Dig up the past and read it. Memorize the lines upon your heart. Taste it. It is sweet in the mouth, but goes down bitter. Eat all of it, and then rebury it. Erase it from your memory. Do not remember the taste, but keep the burning feeling in your stomach...

Pluto is no longer a planet (officially speaking). Well, I say good for Pluto. Perhaps being a planet was holding him back. Now he's free to pursue other endeavors. I wonder how he took it? Perhaps at his final planetary gathering, you know when all the planets get together, he stood up, held up his middle finger on each hand, and said to the other eight "F all ya alls."

Okay, imagine for a moment, if you will, that you are a normal law-abiding citizen of mars, when suddenly, much to your horror, you hear on the news that a FRICKIN' ROBOT from OUTER SPACE is rolling around some guy's backyard. You'd be freaking out. What if there IS intelligent life on Mars? How are they going to see this stupid robot?

What really gets me is that Jose's pubic hair is always all over the soap. How do I know it's Jose's pubic hair? Because it's black, about an inch long, and is curly. I have to spray off the bar of soap before I use it. Do people not know what a WASHCLOTH is?? Great invention! It keeps the hairs off of the bar of soap!

The Law of Jacob: For every quick reflex reaction, there is an equal but opposite clumsy action. Yesterday, when I took the dog out, I ran back to the house (with the dog), and leaped up on to the deck. I didn't fall on the stairs of the deck, which was good, but I soon after slammed my fingers in the doorway of the bathroom, which proves the law of Jacob.

jacob-energy is what happens when I'm really tired and it's way too late and all I'm running on the energy of myself, which I like to call electro-magnetivity. This is when I'm hard to understand and just laugh for no reason like I'm high. I was running off jacob-energy the other night and I grabbed Mel's wrist and forced her to hit me over the head with her hand while I said, "Quit hitting yourself, quit hitting yourself."

I was the host and had to hold the condom as we filled it with water. Now, it wasn't easy, cause the condoms were lubricated. I had to stick it on the nozzle and you know roll it down. It was a little difficult because a.) I've never used a condom and b.) I had nothing to stick it on and roll it down. Thankfully the water washed off the lubrication. We put it in the bathtub and filled it pretty big before it exploded all over me. It was great. Totally great. That's what we do on Friday nights, my friends and I. Oh yeah!

So in another part of the ghetto there were some shepherds, and they was doin’ their thang when this Heavenly Homie came down. And this homie said to the sheepers: “Don’t be fearin, playas, for I got some d*mn good news. A virgin mother be birthin a heavenly brotha downtown, sons.”

As I drive back from college, I always pass this car junkyard, and in it is this poor, thin, black horse. He's probably a guard horse, but it always makes me so sad to see him in there. I've often just thought of sneaking there one night, cutting the wires of the fence, and riding him off into the dark. However, he'd probably bite me.

I had a friend tell me last night that I am a wealth of untapped resources. To which I replied, "Yeah, like Alaskan oil."

My writing is so awful, and I want to quit, but this story is inside me, wanting to get out. I am pregnant with these ideas, but don't want the pain of birthing them.

I miss the days when I could just write and write and write something, have it pour out of me like a river of ink...

I learned in mythology today (oh Kristen...oh the helpful things you teach me): The average person is afraid to do what he or she truly desires, and only the hero does what they are called to do despite the odds. So, rather than spend my time on break writing in a journal or trying to locate friends in the school, I am going to sit down and WRITE because it is what I am afraid to do yet what I know I SHOULD do.

When I sit down to write, I don't say to myself "This is going to be a commentary on the assimilation of our society under the influence of technology." I instead sit down and tell the story.

You can't judge a writer, only their individual pieces. For instance, I have a girl that's in the creative writing class with me that I thought for the longest time sucked as a writer. All of her pieces were bad. Then one day she brought in something completely different that was actually GOOD and I realized that I didn't know her well enough to say she was a bad writer. I hadn't read every one of her pieces, grown up with her, examined her heart with an all knowing eye like God. We (writers) all write sucky pieces. You have to look at each piece as its own entity and judge the individual story not the writer.

I don't think I'm real enough, ya know? A writer has to have one foot in this world - reality - and one foot in the other...that unknown place where all the stories and paintings and songs and sculptures come from.

Am I all that important, or could someone else have taken my place? You would have been just the same, I promise.

And then the darkness swirls again and I see "The Scream" the painting you know, but its black too, and it swirls, the darkness coming closer and closer to the house, to the windows. I scream out, "I condemn you in the name of Christ! In the name of Christ get back!" But it keeps coming and coming, and it passes over the house...

My bestfriend/co-founder of our studio, Ian Bobinac, was diagnosed with cancer. He has non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma in his bone marrow. So if you could please pray for him, that would be greatly appreciated. He found out he had cancer two days before his 18th birthday...it was a bum way to spend his birthday, in the hospital.

I'm really going to miss Phantom...I literally broke down and cried which I rarely RARELY ever do...I buried him up on the hill behind our house, that's a little bit into the woods, beneath a tree. I'm just really shocked because Phantom was only 4 and he was tough as nails and I thought he'd live longer than me and die taking down a wolf or a cougar or something. Phantom had these very pale eyes, they were almost white, and against his obsidian fur he just reminded me of some ghost, wandering in and out of our woods.

I guess he had some other problems and they had to do a surgery that I am not going to detail because all of this deals with very personal stuff in other words I've never seen my dad so subdued and serious the man jokes at funerals! Maybe this will be a little lesson in slowing down...Dad, you're 63, you don't need to work seven days a week and do overtime and go in at night when they have problems.

Chad and I were talking about how Jose says he's "God's Hammer," and I said I'm not God's anything. Then after a little while Chad came downstairs from his room and I said "I'm God's mockturtle. Melancholy. At one time I was a real turtle."

And it’s not like you can just stop being depressed. It takes a lot of work, and for some people it even takes medication (though we are a society that is too quick to medicate, I definitely believe that, there are some people who suffer from chemical imbalances so extreme that simple talks have proven useless).

Do you ever feel the urge to tell everyone one of your friends everything? Absolutely everything about yourself and hope that they will just suddenly grab you and pull you to them, and you'd be surrounded by all these people and they would just be holding on to you, keeping you safe?

What do you do when you have a friend who is hopelessly depressed and thinks no one loves them and all you try to do is show them how much you love them. It's frustrating and painful at the same time because it seems like your love isn't good enough.
Do you think...that's how God feels?

Coping is always an issue. This hit home because I thought, or have been thinking, wow it's unfair what's happened to Ian its so evil, this is bad...but the truth is...this happens. No matter what we do, no matter how advanced our civilization gets, these things happen. And rather than get hung up on them, rather than calling them evil, we need to take a deep breath, step back, and just move on.

Remember that time in creative writing, when Al, that old gentle man, who came to class as steady as the sun, was talking to Rob, the wise teacher who loved nature, and Rob said “Write about anything you want to,” and Al said “The golden thread” and Rob smiled and said, oh so sure, oh so sweetly, oh so simply “follow it.” I loved him only slightly less then Kristin, and even if you don’t remember being there, you remember that feeling, the small golden explosion in your head, heart, stomach, legs, the one that whispered in a whirl wind “this is home.”

This year was the year of learning from the bad, the unfortunate, and the depressing. This year was the year I took what happened and looked at the positive, learned from the negative, and relished in relaxing mediocre. I am proud of myself for that; I'll admit it.

And whether or not God uses everything to his glory isn't the point here either. I just call that resourcefulness. He can take any situation and bring the good out of it, that doesn't mean the situation always goes how He would like. And if we think from God's perspective, and look at the big picture and not the little one, we see that no matter how crooked the road is, God gets us there.

Do we have a God who has a clear plan and a clear set of instructions, but let's us make our own decisions and learn from our mistakes and is there to help us? Do we have a God, like Isaac Newton said, who is so powerful that He made a Universe that can run on it's own, and also play a personal role in each of our lives?

Faith must be held higher than reason, however it is all right to try to reason what you believe. In other words, to be a good Christian you must first have the belief before you can ever start reasoning that belief. Even though philosophy and mythology provide me with the views of other cultures, I still cling to what I believe which is what i have learned from God's word (the Bible).

And then I said something that I think was cool, and it must have been God speaking through me because I don't know how I would have said something like this. I said, "No, no. The one true church is not a denomination. It is a union of the believers who have faith and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I am part of this church, and you are probably part of this church, and there are Christians all over the world in different denominations who are a part of this church. There are things about your beliefs I don't agree with, as I am sure there are things I believe in that you don't agree with, but what unites us is our belief in Christ as the one true savior."

All that matters is that one moment, that shred of a second, where the book lay on your lap and you knew you were in the right place and the right time, the place where you belonged, and everything made sense and everything was as it should have been.
I want my life to end like that. I hope you do too.

"Dear Jacob,

Congratulations! This letter is to inform you that you have been accepted into the Film/Video major at Grand Valley State University.”

On Friday September 8th, my newest niece, Summer Olivia Beavers was born. She is a very cute little baby, although her head kinda has the green goblin thing going on with it being long and pointed in the back.

Make today special. Find something in today that you won't find any other day. Then do the same thing tomorrow, but make it BETTER. That's the only way to avoid mediocrity. And never settle for the best, but strive for more until you feel that rush.

Well that’s it. Three agonizing years (hahaha). I hope you all enjoyed this little compilation, and now I will leave you with one more gift tonight. Here are some of my favorite diary entry titles. Enjoy...

Urinals and woman on top
Cops getting hard and a new layout!
Soaking wet and Sellers
Cats and crossdressers
Handjobs, hobos, and Shapeshifting
“Hello pussy,” and talking about mating, turkeys, strippers, and the Orgasm Machine – entry url (also funny): stripjet
3 guys, a girl, condoms (or shoelaces ::wink wink::), 2-6 L of sperm, and tomatoes –
url (teehee): grocery list
Grappling hooks and "Topper the mornin' to ya!"
Slippers toward the ceiling
Prostituition-Money for Whores to go to College
Weirdness, Marriage, and Paper Puppets
In one hand there is a man who eats cheese but not fruit which makes sense to only you, you heartless bastard.
Mowing is one of the reasons I can't run for president...

And finally,
“Son, you look like you have a porcupine in your pants...”

That’s my anniversary entry! Three years is just the beginning!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!