Layout: [twenty-four of forty-nine points]
In general the layout performs what it's supposed to achieve, with fairly simple images. There is room for improvement, nonetheless. The solitary red orchid, while striking, competes with the stark white words for attention. Additionally, the way you post content is somewhat sporadic. Some entries are single-spaced between paragraphs, others double-spaced.

Ironically, your poetry is also often double-spaced, which makes it difficult for your readers to connect the stanzas as a single thought. There are a couple of links that don't work, and it appears that there is some bad code in the linked tagboard.com window, which means that it does not fulfill its purpose. Close, but not quite there yet.

Content: [seventy-five of eighty-seven points]
While Miss Dawn was unable to read all of your copious entries (going back to 2002!), she tried to sample reading from various points throughout. She began with those you identified as favorites. While Miss Dawn was nodding in agreement as she read your experiences with Claire, she kept waiting for the angry and pain-ridden entries to be balanced by positive ones. Perhaps it was merely the luck of choosing at random, but Miss Dawn found very few of those. You referred to humor at one point when being woken at 4am when a paramour roused you with a very vocal nightmare, but the humor was buried by self-doubts and your conviction that you would not see him again.

You have gone through working for a job you hate, to employment in a series of jobs you hated so much that they were barely a blip on the screen until they were gone again. You gave a brief notation of your father's illness in your first entry; more recently, you note your grandmother's failing health. In those moments when you write about family, everything superfluous is sloughed off like a moth-eaten garment, and your readers glimpse the gentle passions that drive you.

Finally, you permit your readers a rare moment of giggles with your recollection of hiccups during a sushi dinner. It was a universal vignette and showed that you are capable of not taking yourself seriously, when the situation warrants, even though your wit is apparently quite dry.

One note of concern. Throughout your diary you relate details of illnesses, including some very disturbing references in recent entries. Miss Dawn would hope that you will seek the advice of a physician in the very near future.

Frequency [twenty-two of twenty-two points]
No one can fault you for frequency! Miss Dawn skimmed through your archives and marveled at the fact that there were few, if any, missed days. While early in your writings you posted many times a day, and that no longer occurs, you still write with astonishing regularity. Miss Dawn's only suggestion might be that it would be good to take a day away now and then and possibly leave town, enjoy a brief reprieve. All work and no play could explain your recent malaise, or at least contribute to it.

Bonus Points [ten points]
Your unswerving determination to post daily must count for something, but so too does the fact that you are willing to expose your bitchiness along with your heart. Honesty is still and always the best policy and will always be applauded here.

Judgment:
Your entries are overwhelming in number and many of them are painfully negative. But Miss Dawn believes that they are a fairly accurate accounting of your life, with its ups and downs. For good and bad, it is what a diary is meant to be.