Aprhodite's Diary, perhaps this should be called

I too have thrown myself upon the blogosphere bandwagon.

When my most recent diary was full (and oh, the salacious tales it holds - Bridget Jones got nothing on me!), I asked Heph to bind me a new one.

He's been making me diary after diary ever since...well, even since we made up, all those years after I broke his heart (how I regret that, that look of horror in his eyes when he pulled aside the canopy's crimson gauze, to find...that's a tale for anothe time). Perhaps because he knows I'm guilty, and feel guilty, he knows I'll forever come to him for my diaries (to record the affairs that are not with him and never shall be again).

But, he's used up all that gauze he uses as binding.

I almost cried -- I'm not a lover of change, we all know -- but he sat me down at this laptop (he'd bought it for me last year, but really, I hardly touch it) and set this up for me.

I hope I can get used to the difference between emotional, tense cursive longhand (I have excellent penwomanship, I do) and this typing. It's so impersonal.