...in which the most top-secret, mortifying events are chronicled for the benefit of the world.


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Saturday, June 22, 2002
( 12:12 PM )
Dear World, Well, unless you think you are pregnant and you don't want to be. Duh.

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( 12:11 PM )
Dear World, Horrible, horrible, horrible. Up all night with cramps, thinking I was gonna die, told Damian I was having a miscarriage and he was freaking. I really thought I was gonna die. But I am slightly better now. At least I think I can lie down for a while. I called in sick for work. Don't ever do that, induce your own period. Never ever ever.

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