I didn’t expect this to happen to me!
I haven’t written a diary in a very long time, years actually. I’ve been OK with reading the outstanding diaries that our DK family is so prolific at generating, then commenting on them when I thought I had something useful to say; often when I didn’t really have anything useful to add, but just wanted to vent in some manner.
Many of the diaries keep me informed, others keep me laughing (pooties anyone?), some make me want to cry when individuals blog the pain they are enduring, and others make me angry about what is being done to them. Some diaries cause me to take action, at least the actions I can take at my age, and result in me reminiscing about the late 60s and early 70s when I was in the streets of the University of Oklahoma during the Vietnam War fighting what were apparently initial skirmishes against an oligarchy that has only grown stronger. The best diaries have some combination or all of these attributes. So I comment quite a bit, rec a lot, but never write diaries anymore.
Below the ornate, orange, mark of Zorro, I quit reminiscing about bygone lore and get to the point.