I don't think I have a Gold membership anymore, so if my images (that is past pictures, my "Inner Beauty" banner and links, etcetera) aren't working, you'll know why. So far they still work for me. Andrew will probably see this now and yell, "ah-ha!" and steal them all from me as soon as he figures out. Dude I fucking pay you like $50 American just to put pictures on my damn diary. But I don't think I'm going to use this diary anymore, which makes me cry. It honestly does - I've cried twice today already and it's not even 1pm.
This is a pre-cursor for tonight's events. Last New Years I bawled for hours before anyone even got to my house and then the night proceeded to be hell on earth. See here for a more detailed explaination.
Tonight I have big fancy plans at a fancy-shmancy hotel. Going to this dinner/dance thing, where people sip cocktails and champagne at midnight, at the highest peak in all of Vancouver overlooking the city, all dressed up pretty and pretending to have money. I don't know what to make of it yet. I'm looking forward to it being over with.
When my new diary is ready I will let you all know. That is, if you want to know. I don't know what to do with this one.
I think I know what will become of it. It'll become a link on the side of my new diary, a lonely link that nobody will click on. Anyone who stumbles across my new diary won't have a clue who I am. One of my biggest pet peeves with this entire online diary business has been that people will read your most current entry, write in your guestbook that they love you and then they never bother to read backwards. I am who I am because of my past experiences. This Diaryland world is entirely surreal to me sometimes.
I'm not writing for myself as much anymore, I'm writing for you. Sometimes I like it because it feels like good writing practice. Sometimes I hate it because it feels like an obligation.
I'm hesitant to say this is the end, so I won't yet.
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