:)

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

Went to the pub for a swift one after work. I'm getting pretty sick of walking around that sodding theme park all day peddling cut-priced falafel. It's not easy being me.

That pervert Arathorn was in there, what a surprise. Propping up the bar and getting off his nut on Snakebite. Barliman was polishing a glass and giving him worried looks every five seconds.

I ordered a slimline tonic water and a bag of pork scratchings and then sat with my bag to everyone and read the paper.

It rained all of the way home and all that was waiting for me when I got in was a Sainsbury's 'Be Good To Yourself' Meal For One.

*Beleg's Diary*

Dearest Diary...

Tinker Bell is always gone from the condo, leaving the three of us alone. Of course, I always feel rather left out since Ecthelion and Feanor seem to have this "brunette bond" or something. Maybe I ought to dye my hair...Tinker Bell has some pretty dyes in the bathroom...

She did bring home something called Mistletoe the other day, and kept following Ecthelion around with it. I have no idea what it's for, but they both seemed quite happy with the effects of this strange plant. Perhaps it's an aphrodisiac, in which case I ought to see if I can snag some of it...

Spent most of the day searching the internet for these "slash stories" about me...was rather upsetting as there aren't too many, most involving Turin and leading up to my death. How typical. People stretch canon for Boromir so he can hot sex for the rest of his life with Aragorn, but I always die a miserable death.

Feel like my archery skills might be waning with my current laziness. Perhaps I'll go outside and shoot some squirrels...maybe make Tinker Bell some roast squrriel for dinner. Am sure she'll appreciate it.

Love,
Beleg the Strongbow

*Feanor comes in later, sees the diary, reads it, laughs, then crosses out Strongbow to write "Beleg the Girlybow".*

Haldir's Diary

Day 1:

L'L bought me this thing, so I must write in it to make her happy.
Today I wrote letter #2568 to PJ to tell him that I'm not dead. I guess the mail is pretty slow these days, because he didn't answer yet.
I also wrote letter #3487 to Craig Parker, inviting him to L'L's house. No reply from him either, but I have to try 'cause that mortal is way too cute! And L'L would love to have a threesome.

That's it for now: Haldir

The Diary of Maedhros

Dear Diary....

When I signed that contract giving my life to Eremir, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Man... That girl is insatiable! There's only so much I can do with one hand, you know. She gave me this diary so I would have something to do when she's not home, but learning to write with my left hand has proven very difficult. I thought this christmas I would get her a leash. Maybe then she will take me outside... I would love to go outside...

She says that if I'm a good little elf, a man called Santa Clause will visit me and give me presents. Apparently this is a very worshipped man. Like a Vala or something. You can wish for things you would like him to bring. I would like him to bring another elf. Not for me, but for Eremir. Perhaps then I won't be so tired all the time. Uh-oh...I hear her calling... Got to go!

~Maedhros

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

Vicky has invited me to her work's Christmas party on Saturday. It is kind of her, but that creep Arathorn will be there as he is with the same company. She cornered me about it when we were watching Eastenders-

''You can't stay single forever Gil. Just because you think Arathorn is a massive pervert with a drink problem doesn't mean he is. He might be a total romantic for all you know. Anyway, his Dad's absolutely minted so you've got no choice. You're going and that's that.''

I started to protest but she was having none of it-

''You've got loads of dresses that you could wear, and while we're getting ready we can crack open that bottle of plonk and slag off men, YEEAAAAH!''

So, look on the bright side- at least I will be drunk.

Haldir's Diary

Day 2

I hate shopping! L'L told me about this thing called Christmas and we went to shopping.
Valar help me that was the most insane idea in the world!
We were going from store after store and there were annoying humans all over the place.
I had to listen to brainless Chirstmas songs like: 'All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth', for Eru's balls what kind of nonsense is that?
And who the hell is Santa Claus? And what he has to do with the birth of God's son.
And flying reindeers? Not even mentioning Santa's little elves!
I was standing behind an old woman and she was like: Oh, what a cute little elf! With his tiny hands and cute pointy ears!
I almost puked!
It looked like a mailformed elfling who starved half to death!
Than we walked to another place and there he stood that Santa creature at the corner in red outfitt with white beard. He had a bell in his hand shaking it madly and every 5 seconds he screamed: Ho-Ho-Ho! Merry Christmas!
Finally 5 hours and 8 full shopping bags later we got back to the house.
Then L'L pulled out some shiny paper rolls and started to wrap the items from the bags.
While she was busy in the living room, I found a very interesting tasting liquid called egg nog.
So I sat down in front of the TV drinking that sweet yellow creamy thing and after a while the room started to spin a bit.
I had the pleasure to taste a 3150 TA labeled wine from king Thranduils' vineyard, but that had nothing on this egg nog!
I could not get up from the couch without L'L's help!
Sneaky little thing is that egg nog! Next time I will drink only two bottles of that stuff...I have to keep up my good reputation!

Haldir

*Arathorn's diary*

Just have time to write in here quickly before I'm off to the company's Xmas party.

Stupid thing. I wish I didn't have to go. Stupid Dad owning the stupid company...

I hope that Vicky girl from accounting brings her friend, Gilraen... Although she does think of me as some kind of alcoholic pervert. Honestly, get drunk that one time and it's with you for life....

Ah well, time to go and prove her wrong, I guess.

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

I was pleasantly surprised by the Christmas party. That is, I was pleasantly surprised by ARATHORN. I discusted myself and can never show my face in public again. Let me explain-

Dispite my misgivings, Arathorn did not turn up already drunk, and make a hamfisted pass at me before passing out in the rose garden and wetting himself.

We were sitting in the marquee drinking the complimentary plonk (£2.00 a bottle Astey) when he walked in. I had gone all out and worn my best LBD after about a year of trying to force it over my hips (I last wore it three years ago). Arathorn had actually done himself proud and managed to look smart for once. He was wearing a very nice black suit and had even washed his hair.

Vicky kept nudging me and hissing ''He's here! Go and talk to him!''. But I didn't want to seem to keen, although he did give me a little nod before going to sit on another table.

As the evening wore on I was astounded to hear him ask for 'Just a slimline tonic please' from the waiter four times!

After the meal (some stale tukey and rock-hard vedgetables thrown at us on dirty plates), I was feeling a little light-headed and Vicky pointed out that I had drank two bottles of wine on my own.

It was at that moment that Arathorn approached the table during the opening bars of 'Move Closer' by Phillis Nelson (the DJ was ancient). Everybody was staring at the two of us as he said ''Would you er......like to dance?''.

I shakily got to my feet and staggered to the dancefloor, trying not to go flying over someone's bag and knock myself out on one of the amps.

So me and Arathorn slow-danced to the song, and he didn't try to grope my bottom as expected.

As the song was nearing it's climax Arathorn took a deep breath and said-

''Look Gilraen, I know I can be a bit of a prat sometimes. But I really li-''

And before he could even finish his sentence I vommited all over his posh shoes and then passed out.

As the darkness engulfed me I was vaguely aware of Vicky standing over me saying ''Bless her, she never has been able to hold her ale'' and Arathorn sweeping me up in his arms.

Then I blacked out..............

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

I dragged myself out of bed the day after the party feeling like a small mammal had crawled into my head and died. I had no recollection of what happened after I passed out. I hoped nothing had happened. Oh, now naive I was.........

Vicky was down in the kitchen making mince pies with a fag in her mouth and a brandy on the kitchen unit next to her. When I walked in she took the ciggarette from her mouth and rounded on me wearing her 'Kiss the Cook' comedy apron-

''Oh, the creature awakens. I thought you'd be out of it for days the amount you knocked back last night. Thank god Arathorn was willing to help carry you to bed....''

''WHAT?''

''Yeah, when you passed out in the marquee he grabbed you and we got a taxi. Halfway back here you came to and started prattling on about how 'us birds' should stick together. Then you launched into an inpromptue version of 'Only Women Bleed', only you forgot most of the words. You were all over poor Arathorn like a rash, you invited him in for taquila slammers.''

''I don't remember......''

''Clearly. You must have drank well over a bottle on your own. You seemed to think that it would be a fantastic idea to bump and grind to the Sting back catalouge at half four. I went to bed and about half an hour later I heard a crash. I came down here and found you arse first in the recycling bin, out cold. So me and Arathorn carried you to bed between us. He was very forgiving. Considering you kept telling him how you'd always secretly fancied him under all the 'low-key Ranger hostility'. He seemed quite chuffed actually. He left his number, and those arrived an hour ago.''

She gestured towards a huge boquet on the worktop next to the sink. They had a note with them that said-

'Dear G,

Thanks for a great night. I had no idea you were such a vixen!
Call me- 098675 657844

Arathorn, Your Sexy Neighbourhood Ranger

XXX'

''You're in there cocker. Get it while you can.'' smirked Vicky before turning back to the pies.

Dear Diary,

Have been laughing for three days straight, so have been unable to write before.

Oh Eru, Gilraen is such a pathetically sweet drunk! After all that stick she's given me for being an alcoholic, she manages to down two bottles of wine at the party, a bottle of tequila at home... and that's just what I saw her with!

Got her back for throwing up on my Brogues though by messing with her head a bit. Hopefully she should be feeling very regretful this morning, that is if she manages to wake up...

~ Arathorn

The Dark and Beautiful Maeglin

It's tough being such a gorgeous Elf in the modern world. By simply walking down the street I'm attracting glances from everyone I pass. I receive an average of three or four photographer's cards every week.

But forget working as a model! The law firm has promoted me once again, just in time for Christmas too. I am now a junior partner in the firm, after no more than three years of joining them! I don't deny that I'm talented at my job - no, modesty is futile when my skills are shining out so obviously.

The thing is, no matter what I want people to do, be they male or female, I simply stare into their eyes, give a sexy smoulder, and a barely-perceptible smile. Today I witnessed the 70-year-old (old, in human years) male judge turn to jelly before my eyes, as I worked my magic in the courtroom. They say that people in the modern world very rarely harbour romantic feelings for the same sex, but from all I have seen, this is obviously nonsense.

I do miss the openness of same-sex relationships in Middle Earth. Time was when I could walk in public with my arms around the waist of any Elf I chose, without repercussions of any sort. Here, I would get more curious glances than if I had my sword at my hip.

This evening I have a date with a very cute collegue of mine. He thinks we'll be discussing the case at dinner, but he's no more than a boy so I'll have him at my sexual mercy in no time. The prospect of tonight is therefore rather delicious. I will write more tomorrow.

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

I have been hiding in the house ever since the disastorous night out in which I publicly humiliated myself by passing out in the middle of a marquee (and then privately humiliated myself by coming onto Arathorn on my own sofa whilst Sting warbled 'Every Breath You Take' in the background).

But I am being forced to vacate the safety of the house this Friday night. New Year's Eve. Dread of Dreads.

In my opinion you either love New Year's Eve or you hate the bones of it and I fall into the latter category. In the four years that I have lived with Vicky she has looked forwards to 31st December every year with something quite like a sick satisfaction. Then when the night finally arrives she dons an 'outfit' that looks like a cross between a bit of string and a postage stamp, shoves a pair of comedy devil horns on her head, and grabs her (previously booked three weeks before) tickets to the best club in town and dances out of the door half cut. I have no idea what she does in between 7.30pm and 6.00am the next day and nor do I have any desire to know. But she usually comes home without her knickers. I am quite happy to stay in with a Sainsbury's meal for one and the repeats of Flog It! But this year she went and beat me at at my own game.

She bought another ticket to the New Year's Eve party at the 'best club in town' (a basement with shit on the walls in my own opinion), and I only found out today.

''Oh come on Gil, it'll be FUN! Arathorn's going and you REALLY LIKE HIM I can tell. Anway the ticket cost twenty nicker and it's non-refundable so don't you DARE back out on me now. You're only 26 for fuck's sake. You should be out there dancing around your handbag every weekened, not sat in watching Ground Force-''

''Flog It!''

''-WhatEVER! You're going and that's THAT! We hit the sales on Wednesday for new togs. You never know, you and Arathorn might end up back at his for a little love-in! He owns this really swish pad just around the corner from the club actually......''

Then she was off and it was useless trying to stop her. So I have to go. I feel sick just thinking about it.

I'm sticking to orange juice this time.

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

Spent a nightmare day in a boiling hot changing room full of skick-thin waifs forcing myself into clothes that make me look like I'm Jo Brand trying to do Jodie Marsh.
The full-length mirror in my cubicle was terrible and made my hips look massive. Vicky was in the one next door, throwing garments over the partition at me whenever she felt like it.
I was trying to force my Christmas inflated saddle-bags into a little leopardprint miniskirt when I heard Vicky shout-

''Well?''

''It doesn't fit.''

''I don't think they have that one any bigger....'' she hollered over the deafening music that was being pumped into the shop. ''I'll go and see if they have another one in a larger size.''

''Will you SHUT UP?!'' I shouted, feeling like a donkey in a stable full of show ponies.

''Ooooh, alright. Don't get all moody on me.'' Vicky whined from the other side of the partition. ''Here try this.''

A sequined boob tube came flying over and landed on my head. Great.

I was just wandering whether I had the arms to carry off a blue halterneck when my mobile rang. The ringtone was the Emmerdale theme tune so I leapt to answer it as quickly as possible-

''Hello?''

It was Arathorn, my stalker and the newly transformed gentleman, calling to check about arrangements for Friday night. I quickly thanked him for the flowers and he got straight to the point-

''I was wandering if you wanted a lift to club?''

''That's very kind of you Arathorn but I think me and Vicky are meeting up with another friend and then getting a taxi.'' I said as I tried to wrestled my way out of the halterneck.

''Right oh. I'll see you there then. It should be a good night from what I've been hearing. I hope you're as good at fast dancing as you are at slow!''

I gave a false laugh and muttered something about having the rythmn and coordination of a puppet when it came to dancing.

''Rubbish! I bet your a right little Ginger Rogers on the floor......''

There was a long pause and I heard him puffing on a ciggarette at the other end of the phone. I was still stuck halfway out of the top with my arm in the air.

''Look Gil. I know I've been a prat in the past but that's changed now and well, I just wanted you to know that-''

And at that crucial moment, just like at the party, right when he was about to pour his heart out to me, fate cruelly intervened. The top ripped straight down the side, and I was so shocked that I fell back into the curtain of the changing cubicle and crashed to the floor in view of the massing general public with said curtain clutched to my chest where I had made a vain attempt to remain upright.

I covered my magic granny knickers and grey bra and (with a squeal of horror) ran into an empty cubical opposite.

Dear Diary,

Wow. Nine day hangover - that's got to be some kind of record. Got royally pissed at the club after making a complete prat out of myself on the phone to G. Was just about to tell her how I felt about her, when there was a loud crash, which could only mean she threw the phone away in disgust.

Damn. I really thought that chicks liked that sentimental feelings stuff. And I actually meant it this time too.

So, long story of humiliation short, I somehow got it into my head that I had to prove to G that I didn't need her, and spent the evening wining and dining random girls.

I woke up on the morning of the 2nd of January (yes, that's right, the SECOND of January) naked in a giant waterbed with four (that's right, four) naked girls, and vague memories of doing some very energetic things.

Got out of the hotel room as fast as humanly possible without so much as a glance at the girls; wearing my jeans, no underwear, and a ripped shirt I wasn't even sure was mine.

So, the New Year's off to a great start...

Arathorn

*Gilraen's Diary*

Dear Diary,

I want to go to sleep and never wake up. New Year's Eve was AWFUL. Like pulling teeth, only without the enjoyable bits. Arathorn ignored me all night, got off with a dozen random slags, and drank his own bodyweight in vodka. As a direct result of his loutish, unexplained behaviour I got completely sozzled, collapsed in the toilets and had to be carried out of the club with my stomach-minimising knickers on display to the whole world.

I just don't know where it went so wrong.

After the terrible day I had searching for a likely outfit I ended up plumping (Ha!) for a classic LBD, that didn't show off my bumps too much. Three hours of bathroom fiddling later and I was ready to face the club.

Vicky called a taxi and re-applied her tit-tape while we waited. I wasn't as nervous as I usually would be because I'd had a few TINY glasses of white wine, just to calm myself you understand. Anyway, when we got to the club it was half nine and the place was already packed.

''Go and look for Arathorn. I'll get us some drinks in.'' Vicky shouted in my ear before dancing off towards the bar.

I silently cursed her and pulled down my dress for the millionth time that night before heading off towards a group of likely-looking suit types. Arathorn wasn't with them but one of them called Jeremy directed me towards the dancefloor where Arathorn had last been seen.

I pushed my way through the crowd of half-pissed clubbers who were bobbing about to the deafening tune of Love Machine by Girls Aloud.

That's when I saw him. Arathorn was on a podium in the middle of the dancefloor, bumping and grinding with a couple of cheap sluts that looked like they were just out of nappies.

Outraged, I stormed to the bar where Vicky was paying for two bottles of Wee Beastie.

''Blimey, what's up with you?''.

''I've just seen that BASTARD Arathorn dancing on a podium with two tarts!''

''Oh.''

''Is all you have to say on the matter?''

''In normal circumstances I'd tell you to go and give him a slap but we don't want to get chucked out. You'd probably make a tit of yourself trying to climb the podium anyway G!''.

Then she burst out laughing!

''Oh, go to hell!'' I shouted, before storming off in an unknown direction.

It appeared the bloody place was round because I ended up back on the dancefloor, only by this time Arathorn and his bitches had dissappeared. I downed my Wee Beastie in three gulps and then in desperation I grabbed Jeremy-

''I wanna dance!''

''Boogie!''

Jeremy was the most unfortunate dancer. I thought I was bad but next to him I was practically Madonna. He had no coordination whatsoever and looked like one of the Chuckle Brothers in spectacles. I couldn't help thinking that he was nothing compared to Arathorn's sultry ranger looks. But he'd blown his chance big style.

I managed to prise Jeremy away from me when I heard the opening bars of Love Shack and went to the bar. I ordered a bottle of taquila and drank it all in a dark corner whilst I furiously watched Arathorn (who had appeared again) tongue some random old slapper a few feet away from me. When I'd downed the last drop of taquila I staggered out of my hiding place to confront him.

''What the 'ell to ya think you're playin' at? You filthy lying bastard!''

The old slapper hurried off assuming I was his wife. Arathorn turned to me and said-

''It's all right, you couldn't have made yourself clearer on the phone the other day. Lets just keep away from each other shall we?''

Then he walked off! What did he mean 'on the phone'? When I fell out of the cubicle? He obviously thought that I was giving him the cold shoulder. Great.

After that little revelation I drank my way through another bottle of taquila while I cried in the toilets and that's the last thing I remember until I woke up on the kitchen floor New Year's Day.

When I woke up the next day, Vicky said that she'd been worried about me because I'd been in the toilets for four hours, so she came looking for me and found my feet sticking out of a cubicle. She called the bouncers and they broke the door down and the four of them each grabbed a limb. I was carried through the club by my arms and legs with my pants showing and my head lolling on the ground, hitting the floor every few seconds.

When we got outside Vicky reckons that they dumped me on the pavement and I didn't wake up so Vicky called a taxi. When it arrived she put my feet over her shoulder and dragged me into the taxi.

When we got home she payed the driver and dragged me inside the house and left me on the kitchen floor.

I asked her about Arathorn and she said that she'd heard on the grapevine that he'd gone back to a hotel with a load of strange women.

Well, that's it then.

*Gilraen's Diary*

Vicky's gone and landed herself the role of Velma Kelly in the local theatre group's April 2005 production of Chicago. She came rolling in from the first rehearsal today, still wearing her bob wig, black slip dress, and fish nets. When I pointed out that she can't sing and can only dance with five Lambrini's inside her she got narked and said-

''I only went along to the meetings 'cause I fancy the director. There was only about ten other people there and they all had 'faces for radio' if you catch my drift, so who can blame him for casting a bit of totty?''.

I tutted and continued to watch the Corrie omnibus while she preened in the mirror.

''Anyway, how hard can it be? I've seen the film. All Catherine Zeta-Jones does is throw herself around a stage and shout ''ALL THAT JAZZ!'' and ''Razzle Dazzle'' at regular intervals. Besides, I look fucking killer in these fishnets. The bint who's playing Roxie leaves a lot to be desired. She hasn't got an awful lot going on upstairs, you know what I mean? And Billy Flynn works down the fish market, so he'll make the place stink of haddock every night.''

Then I heard her clear her throat and start clacking around the hallway singing-

''Come on babe, we're gonna paint the town.....and all that jazz!'' in her best American fallsetto accent.

''See, I CAN do it. So, are you coming out tonight or what? I can't bear stay in watching bad b-movies for another night. Besides, it's Hooch for a Pound at The Outback.''

I informed her that I never wanted to go into town again after the New Year's Eve debarcle.

''For fuck's sake, you got wasted and passed out. So what? I've done a lot worse cocker, beleive me. Anyway, you don't have to worry about Arathorn anymore do you? Now that you're done with him for good. The Outback's far too working class for his highness anyway, so he'd never show his face in there. Oh, PLEASE Gil, come on. First round's on me.''

Begrudgingly, I agreed. Well, she's right. I can't hide away forever can I?

Dearest Diary -

I don't know why, but Tinker Bell has been in the oddest mood lately. I wouldn't exactly call it "mean and short-tempered" - well, actually I would, since that's what Ecthelion calls it. It might have to do with how much she's been studying, or it might have something to do with the fact that Feanor stole her iPod and has been listening to SNL's Celebrity Jeopardy skits over and over again on it. The awful thing is, no matter how many times he listens to it, Feanor never stops laughing. You'd think the skit would stop being funny after 2 days listening non-stop.

The three of us did have fun on Monday thought - Tink called it "Valentine's Day". She said it was a day of romance and love. Well, she didn't say that - I read it on this internet. Tink actually said it was a crap holiday made up by Hallmark to force life into the flaccid florist and chocolate businesses. I don't think she knows what the word "flaccid" means. May have to show her. She did give me flowers though, which was awfully nice of her. She said I'd appreciate them more than Feanor or Ecthelion (which is true), who played with the new sex toys she gave them ALL afternoon. I mean, who needs a dildo when I have both of THEM?

Well dearest, I must be going. Tink is teaching me how to make Swedish Apple Pie this afternoon!

All my love -

Beleg.



Dear Book-type thing -

"I'll show ya a finger, TREBEK!" Hah. Never gets old! Hah!

I'd better run and hide now. Maybe walk up to get the mail. Tink's giving me that terrible look again.

-Feanor


Dear Diary -

Feanor won't stop listening to Tink's iPod, and Beleg is browsing Emeril's website, which means I have some privacy to play with BOTH mine and Feanor's Valantine's gifts. Tink was wrong, this holiday was so not worthless!

Mmm, I wonder if Namo will let me use these on Oropher...or better yet, where did Glorfindel run off to?

-Thel

Dear Journal -

Well, Feanor's not grounded anymore, he finally stopped listening to Tink's iPod, which made her happy.

She's been in a darn good mood lately, something about "Spring Break". I know she's gone to California for a week, and she's invited the three of us along, which is exciting. She said something about an "airplane ride" though, and that it's something we're not used to. We'll have to see...

Anyway, I think Namo's been ignoring me lately. Wonder where he's run off to...maybe he found a new elf to torment, though...I hope not. :whip:

-Thel

Dear Journal-

Glorfindel stole our copy of elven kama sutra and hid it because me and Gil were making too much noise at nighttime.
Its not our fault if we get carried away.. that book is very detailed and explanatory.

love
Mel


Dear Journal,

I found the kama sutra book, did Fin really think she could hide it from us for that long! ha

Sin, Gil

yo journal.

Azzy is a faschist cunt! the stuff dictators are made of! i kid you not! - while Elrohir suffers from the delution that its a nice trait for a mortal female to be a mistress in her own house, i find it directly appauling! she made he feed the baby! *whines* i ended up smeared in fullflake fruit mash. WTF? where i am from the WOMEN fed their own children, but Azzy just says that we gotta pay for our stay, and tat i should stop whining, and that babyfood washes off, a kick in the butt dont.

the nerve! to call me lazy!

Now she is apperently having fun having a beer and browsing this goddamn forum on the internet, i want a beer too! and guess what! she told me i couldent have one, she said there only was one left and that was hers! - she DOES pay the rent, but still... i am the eldest and therefor the beer should be mine!

and oh journal, you wont belive it. her other damn brat fell asleep on the couch, and i want to watch tv, do you know what she told me? that i had to carry the kid to bed myself! its a uproar! i mean... is it that time of month? or lack of it? i dont know..

i cant wait for her boyfriend to come back, we are living in a state of terror here.

*grumble* stupid bitch *grumble*

-yours Elladan

Day...er not sure... the human calendar is so confusing... :huh:

Hm..it's been since last Christmas when last I opened my diary.
L'L was very upset when she found out that I'm a very lazy scribe. :blush:
Honestly I didn't mean to stop writing in it, but time flows differently for an elf.
It seemed to me that it was only yesterday when that tricky egg nog took me for a spin.
Now I have to make it up to her.
Still no answer from either PJ or Craig, but I have time and patience! I have written only 10,000 letters combined between the two of them! One cannot be too pushy if he wants to achieve success.
Well, the summer is ending which is good, because L'L will stop complain about the heat and humidity. Blessed be the Valar who made the Firstborn immune to such things like the weather.
Yesterday I was watching TV and for my biggest shock I saw the young Estel posing stark naked in a movie! :huh: :omg:
It was a very sad movie called The Indian Runner. First I thought that my eyes were cheated by some spells, but L'L was drooling beside me and kept panting and moaning: "Oh you look soo yummy Aragorn! I wish that I could just lick you through the screen!" :pant:
I made the huge mistake to tell L'L that I had the pleasure to taste every inch of Estel's skin and the silly woman started to laugh at me. :blink:
She kept telling me that the man in the movie wasn't Isildur's Heir but some actor named Viggo.
But she can't fool me! I heared that she called his name: Aragorn!
I guess I have to write to King Elessar to get to the bottom of this puzzle.
Well, that's it for now. If the Valar wills it I'l keep up with my writings more often.

Haldir :biglove:

Dear Journal,

Lin is saying that I sound like an army commercial. Something about "Be all that you can be". I cannot help feeling that many beings put entirely too many restraints on themselves.

Lin has explained the concept of "Halloween costumes" to me. To me it is as if a great many powerful beings were wearing ant costumes every day. Few seem to be using the power Eru gave them. Lin tries to explain, but I still do not understand why this is.

Lin suggested that I find Elessar and ask why he went about as Strider for so many years. Is that what these beings are all doing?

Blessings,
Manwë

Deer Booooook -
Is tuff being most hated elf on arda. Fortunatly Tink has sugested most wondwondwonderful drink called MARTINI. Sho good. Makes me forget tht everyone hates me. Lve it. should hve another nhe...another one. yes.

-Fenor

PS - dam tht Haldir is hooooot.



Dear Journal -

Love when Feanor is drunk. He's so much easier that way.

Love,
Thel