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Thursday, Jul. 22, 2004 - 10:31 p.m.

One downfall OR plus of returning to the place in with you were raised is that you begin to hear about those you left behind some time ago.

Take, for exaple, JK. JK was my first first so-called 'boyfriend'. The long and short of it is that we flirted for a couple years, dated for three months, then he commenced to not acknowledge my existence all through high school. In fact, he still might be going through willed amnesia. Because this is my journal, the fact that I wrote him the most horrific 'Dear John' letter is totally not the point. The point is that he was (and may still be) a total ass anyway, and now that he is married, some other poor woman has to put up with his total ego-absorbed assiness.

So, JK was one of the few of my fellow high school classmates who graduated from college in four years. Now he lives in Leavenworth and is starring in different theatre productions in this area, including 'Oklamhoma' and 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Coat'. The local rag (paper) this week published a letter to the editor from a local family exalting JK's performance.

Honestly, at first I was jealous that this jerk of a guy recieved more local attention than I ever have. Then, honest to goddess, I realized that JK's life is probably rather boring. After all, he is barely 22 years old and married. What the hell kinda deal is that? Plus, 'Oklamhoma' and 'Josheph and the Blahblahblah' aren't exactly 'controversial', and those of you who know me well enough that you know that I am not sure whether or not I properly spelled 'controversial', you also know that, for me, being controversial is one of my major goals, which feeds into my other goals of 'pissing people off' and 'creating a world run by estrogen'.

In short, I wish JK the best doing what makes him happy and fulfilled. In the end, I really couldn't care less about his sorry (and enlarged, last I checked) ass.

Closure is mine.

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