Seriously. Here I am, being lazy in a t-shirt with the Eye of Sauron on it that I made, which is practically screaming GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

I was humming the Harry Potter theme as I applied a dark red lipstick and adjusted my nose ring as I sang Razzle Dazzle, thinking about signing online to check my guestbook before going back to my strict Harry Potter Reading Plan. [I calculated it out and figured to which point in the books I have to be on a daily basis in order to successfully finish Goblet of Fire on Friday night. This took a really long time due to extreme mathematical retardation. Obviously, what I am doing now--that is, being online, typing an entry, considering socializing, etc.--is not helping me reach my 280 page-a-day quota. (Note: You may check this and realize that my calculations are wrong, but consider that the calculations are for every day--today through Friday--excluding Sunday, and that I was already to page 170 in Sorcerer's Stone at the time.)]

NO FAIR! I so can't pick my nose anymore! OH THE HUMANITY!

Man alive, though, seriously, it really fscking hurts.

Today I was going to share with you more insight in Life, The Universe, And Everything, but I realized, once again, that I wasn't insightful, and wasn't in a particularly weird enough mood to type an entry called "Clarification" wherein I state only "I AM NOT SEEING A YELLOW MOOSE. Just wanted to clear that up."

(Seriously, that entry happened. If you care to look, I believe it was last August, just after school started.)

My nose hurts like a bitch. It's constantly sore, as though I've bruised it or been punched in the nose. I can't tell you how much I hate being hit in the nose and then I voluntarily do this.

Also in retrospect, as I stare cross-eyed at the dark blue hoop from it, I can't believe I actually did it. I have an inkling feeling of having ruined all chances of acting and being taken seriously from this point on.

I also seriously hope that I don't get in any fights with my dad wherein he hits me smack across the nose because then I'll probably start screaming cuss words, much like I almost did when he inadvertently slapped me on the cartilage of my ear just after I got it pierced.

Anyway, since I'm on the subject of being weird, I've decided to start work on an entry called A LOOK BACK AT PHOEBE: AN ODYSSEY.

That's right! Sort of like Phoebe in Band: An Anthology.

Which is a good thing to add to my list.

You see, when one has 718 entries, one can find themselves making all sorts of milestone entry lists. One can also find themselves making lists of the weirdest entries they've ever written, the most thoughtful entries they've ever written, the most nonsense entries they've ever written, and the entries they wished they'd never written but for some reason don't want to delete for fear of deeply regretting it in the future.

Of course I've waited a year with my hand over the "delete" button on one of these entries, and I still refuse to delete it. I also, coincidentally, won't read it again, either.