I found one of the many, many journals (note: I would never call them diaries; they were strictly journals!) I obsessively wrote in when I was younger. Here is a pretty, well, lame entry. Enjoy or don't enjoy. I can not make your enjoyment decisions.
I have had weird (but meaningful) dreams. One, John Stockton came over to my house and we played basketball. Then he got ready for a date with my camp leader Joanne Mikelson. I said, "Oh! I know her! How did you meet her?" "She cleans houses and she was cleaning Gov. Leavitt's house," Stockton said. Weird, huh?
My other dream: I was at this contest thingy where you make nail polish. My color was a dark purple and called "Stayin' Alive." Dennis Rodman was there (I don't really like him at all) and he was behind me. I made a gagging sign and someone took a picture of me. I asked if Dennis Rodman saw me make fun of him and they said yes. I was scared of him now. He was walking up to the door and I hid. Someone was a Jazz fan, but they were sucking up to Rodman and (or was scared of him) said, "Oh... I just love the Bulls!" I stepped out of the shadow and said, "No! I love the Utah Jazz! They're the best - even if they came in 2nd - they're still the best!" End of dream. -Meghan