December 03, 2002 | 8:37 PM

Today is not only the first day of the rest of my life, but it is the official one year anniversary of the day I started writing in this fucking thing. I can join the A-year-written diary ring if I want. Woo hoo.

Blow up some balloons and put a polka on the gramophone kiddies.

What a long strange trip it�s been. I feel like I�ve lived five lifetimes in the past 365 days. Oh the drama! Oh the love and loss and monkeys and milkshakes!

O Brutal Youth!

The house always wins, but in the ups and downs of the casino that is life, I think I came out alright this year�even if I did have to tighten my belt and face a few facts I didn�t want to face.

I am now an institution. I can proudly stamp, Est. December 3, 2001 on the face of this diary if I so choose. I should throw myself a tickertape parade and get me a prostitute.

Oh wait I forgot. I am the prostitute.

Thanks diaryland for allowing a venue in which I can whore my intellect and neurosis.

Here�s to another fantabuolous year.