The other day I asked Shelly if I was 23 years old. But I didn't just ask it like that, it was more like "Oh, SHIT! I'm not 23 am I???!!" To my relief she answered that I was still just 22. Why wasn't I sure about my age? And why was I so terrified by being 23? It's probably because I feel I haven't lived up to my own expectations so far. Why couldn't my expectations have just been "Still own pants by age 22." On the other hand, I'm gainfully employed, my girlfriend likes the Lord of the Rings and I haven't inadvertantly started World War III by playing what I thought was an innocent game of Missile Command on a government super computer 2 minutes ago. So I guess there's plenty to be happy about if you aren't radioactive yet!

You can always tell when you're reading the diary of some 17 year old high school brat because the entries all start out by naming 4 people like "Benji, Sean, Justin and Emily" and they're all in a car ditching school. And then after getting caught our protagonist gets in an argument with her mom where she explains that getting into a car accident is "LIKE SO NOT GONNA HAPPEN. THERES A BIGGER POSSIBILITY OF ME GETTING STRUCK BY LIGHTNING." According to this logic she should have been struck by lightning about 5 times just while writing this entry. Apparently though, her mom thinks she's raised a probability theorist because the sentence is followed by "WELL, THAT TOOK A LOT OF WEIGHT OFF HER SHOULDERS."

Okay shutup little bitch because my first swappingtons item just arrived from Australia!