As anniversaries go, this one is insignificant.

girlfriday has been going strong for over a year. Everyone does this: marks their blogging anniversaries. It is a way of demonstrating our die-hard commitment to hunching over a keyboard hammering out opinions, anecdotes and reflections.

Not very poetic.

Nevertheless ours is here, and I'm glad it is. Among my favorite entries:

Jeb's review of Brokeback Mountain, which elicited some very thoughtful comments, including one in Spanish. Or her Six Women I Admire post which succeeded in doing what love's expression always does.

ihearttexas shares her experience volunteering in the child care center in Austin in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. "...I was on my brother's shoulders, and something in the water kept biting me."

Lois E. Lane succinctly lays out the distinction between experiencing painful or stressful emotions versus transforming that emotion into an entitlement attitude. "This is a crappy world. We have a loving God. Finding the balance in our attitude is the tricky part."

I had nearly forgotten that Jeb and Tex were embroiled in a Bing vs. Elvis debate at one time. It's an important question, people.

The Snark, whose absence has been long felt, waxes philosophical on love. Not on what it is, but on what it is not. "Love is not something done 'for your own good.'"

In my judgement, my most meaningful post was about the nature and significance of our memories. It may happen that I forget that I love you. Or you forget me. Sacrifices made, hard-won victories, crooked smiles, your infectious laugh, my red-hot anger, may slip into the nether regions of a clouded mind. If this happens, I hope you will remember this moment when I tell you that who you are and what our interaction was is meaningful even if I cannot recall it.

I'm glad I journaled that one. I've been meaning to reprint it. I don't want you to forget.

I'm also proud of my "Fifth Noble Truth: Suffering is Only Bad if it's Your Own." If only my pride translated into reform.

This is girlfriday, one year later, not unlike girlfriday every day: life. In no particular order.