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	This week's ReEntry editor is a father and husband, has spent 15 days in jail, has seen one of his screenplays made into a movie he hopes no one ever sees, is one step away from Kevin Bacon in the 'Six Degrees' game, has eaten the worm, once moved to Reno for three months 'just because,' and wore two condoms the first time he had sex. Meet... Chuck

Not Entirely Uplifting
Sunshine, Mud and Rainbows

"I went upstairs and found our bed covered in piles of neatly folded, freshly cleaned laundry. Well, I figured I might as well clean the bed off using the Cheryl method. I threw the clothes off the bed in all directions. I guess this is the way we clean up now. I was a little overzealous and accidentally re-injured my possibly broken finger...

"Of course I felt terrible for being so mean to her. After a while I re-folded all the clothes and then went to the garage and cleaned it."

Dave Van. Man oh man, Dave Van. Dave has three impossible children, one of whom is his wife, and the stories he tells about his life with them make you wonder at the resilience of the human spirit. Where another man  me, for instance  would have eaten a bullet or gone postal or stepped out for smokes and never come back, Dave just keeps on keeping on. You have to admire that. Or pity it. I can't decide which.

Most people would describe his journal as a car crash journal. It's worse than that. You wish it were like a car crash because that would mean it's over. Instead you keep coming back day after day to see if Cameron's lost a finger to the de-childproofed table saw, or if Melanie's dumped flour and syrup all over the kitchen again while Dave and his wife slept upstairs, or to find out what status-related thing Cheryl's riding Dave about this time, or  to see if Dave has finally snapped and taken an ax to them all.

Dave complains about not being nominated for awards and that nobody reads him, but I think this is probably one of the most widely read journals out there. Everyone I've talked to about journaling reads him. Several people have written about him in their journals. Dave links to me from his journal and a lot of my hits come from him. Nobody reads him? I think not. I think Dave is everyone's favorite guilty pleasure. And if he's not getting awards for it, it's only because nobody wants to admit they read him.

How To Be White
Perforated Lines

"Now, this next paragraph will be as painful to certain types of readers as if I were talking about my first menstrual period. Which involved a fevered swap of a Chocolate TandiTake for an ordinary cupcake, but that's another story for another day. No, today I will make your blood run cold with this: I collect old paint and I mix it all up together in a big ten-gallon drum with a broomstick handle. All the names, all the gunk from the top if it's not too disgusting  all mixed up into a slurry brew that is thick and rich and ready to pour.

"All the names: Killz, primer, flat, semi-gloss, eggshell, and hi-gloss. As long as it's latex, of course I'm not crazy. But I enjoy batching things that are similar, as I've mentioned before. Thus: studio white and summer sail and foggy mist: swirl 'em together. It makes: white-ish. Linen and snow flake and winter fox  in they go. Belgian cream, gauzy mist, tallow, storm lightning, beeswax, rice paper, ermine whisper -- they all become, once they mingle and blend a bit: white.

"Igor stands over paint chips for hours and hours, as you can imagine. Moves them from the fluorescent to the incandescent to the sunlight. He loads them in the car, unloads them into the garage, and then goes back to his manuscripts and meetings. I open 'em up, mix 'em up, slap it up, and when he comes around to inspect and admire, I come up with an appropriate name on the spot. Oh, that's glacier on the windowsills and pearly barley on the walls. You like?"

I like. Nancy is a new find for me, but after reading the above she made my bookmark list straightaway. She's only been going since August, but I predict that everybody and his brother will be reading her by this time next year, maybe even Dave.

Nancy's entries are warm and clever and witty and stop me I'm gushing. She has a friendly, conversational style that's so smooth you almost don't notice how sharply it's written until you get to the end and realize you've just read a tight, finely crafted essay. I love that. And the fact that it's oftentimes a clever, funny essay -- well, so much the better.

Sad and Glad
Stitches in Time

"I am a big believer in karma. I thought I had a balance in the big karmic bank in the sky but clearly I was wrong. I must have done something very evil to deserve the kind of buyers we seem to attract. I don't know what it is about this house that seems to draw stark raving lunatics to it."

My last choice is one that, if you know me and read my journal, you might have predicted: my wife's journal, Stitches in Time. But wait, belay those charges of nepotism! Would I be recommending her journal if I weren't married to her? Would I read her even if she weren't my wife? Yes, I think so.

Beth employs a conversational style, which I happen to know matches her actual speaking voice  with a plus: she's funny. Until I started reading her journal, I had no idea my wife was so funny or had such a dry sense of humor. She's wry like bread and I never even knew it! I find myself reading her entries just to find out what really happened and to see what humor she found in things that I missed.

It's an odd thing, finding a side to your wife you didn't know existed. It's odder still that I learned of it on the internet. Who knew?

Original "ReEntry" concept by Gus () and other DIARY-L participants.