So I stopped writing in my journal because it’s inherently dishonest; I edit what I really feel to fit the audience that I think might be reading it. What's the point of a fucking journal that doesn't actually reflect what you're thinking? Why even bother? More ironic, I think the only person that actually does read my journal is Kari, but I
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Happy birthday (1 day early), in case you don't get my card in time.
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Not that your hobbit love isn't affecting my life--I get weird faces every time I mention Dom. "Who?" "You know, Dominic Monaghan? He was a hobbit...in Lord of the Rings?" "Oh, um...sure." "No, really, I have this friend... oh nevermind."
That reminds me, I don't know how I could ship it to you, but I got the toy header (poster-like thing) from work that has Merry and Pippin on it. There was a bloody battle for possession. It's like a 1 1/2 by 4 feet long. Tell me if you’re interested!
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