I've kept journals since I was eight years old. I've got enough journals to fill at least a few wide shelves, and that wouldn't even be all of them, because by 'kept' I don't mean that I've physically kept all that I 'kept' - some have gone missing and some I tossed away, out of embarrassment, the writing was that bad. I've got all of my childhood journals, though. The writing in those is pretty good, for a third grader. The topics I chose to write about were interesting, for a third grader. I had systems of belief then. Compelling ones. For a third grader. It was when I got to college that I tossed my systems of belief out the window to the hungry souls below. And then I tossed the window out the window. And my writing became pure drivel.
Shortly thereafter I learned that a person has to have windows. In fact, we just got new ones. Nice, easy-to-open-and-close double paned windows. The husband thought they would help make the place warmer. But they don't. It's still cold in here.
I used to be much more diligent about journaling than I am now. When I was a kid, I wrote everyday, before bed. I don't remember the last time I wrote a true, time-devoted entry in my paper journal. Which is too bad, because I've got a nice one right now. It's got a brown leather cover with a little snap closure and an embossed leaf in the corner. The pages are stained with age. I got it at The Strand years and years ago. Anyway, I know I wrote some notes while we were in Puerto Rico. "White sand. Sipping water out of a giant coconut. Wild horses in the streets." But that was the extent of my most recent attempt at journaling.
Now I've just got too many things to do. Besides working and rehearsals, there are the ever important tasks:
Learn to sew.
- Make throw pillows.
- Hem husband's pants.
- Make window curtains.
Here is an example of my first attempt at learning this new trade, accomplished three days ago:
Today, I borrowed this from the library:
Knit a tea cosy. We got an adorable tea pot as a wedding gift, and I am now obsessed with loose-leaf teas. But in this chilly apartment, the tea gets cold fast. Well, I learned that tea will stay warmer longer if you put a cosy on your pot. This is how far along I am:
Practice Guitar. Here's what song in the "Learn to Play Guitar" book I'm on:
Well, tonight I decided to ignore all those tasks and write a journal entry instead. On my public blog. Why public this time around? Because, the truth is, anytime a person keeps a journal or a diary, one is doing so with knowledge of the potentiality of it being read. At it's core, journaling is a narcissistic activity. Never has that been more apparent than with the mighty blogosphere, of which I am now a citizen. It's nice to be part of a community, and to have another activity to add to my ever growing list of hobbies and tasks.
Note to my friends and family: the above pronouncement is NOT an invitation to read my journals, should you ever stumble across them.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
- Marriage is wonderful. People ask, "Is it different?" and my answer is, "Yes. It is." It is liberating. It is comforting. It is fun.
- My family and friends are amazing people, and I wish I could be around all of them all the time. In fact, ever since the wedding, I have been thinking favorably upon the Mormon notion of the afterlife, in which a person rejoins their loved ones in heaven for all eternity. That is, of course, if they're all devout Mormons. This presents a slight snag for me.
- The photos provide proof of what fun it was. Perhaps I'll post them for your enjoyment later.
- For the purposes of this blog, I will henceforth refer to "le fiancé" as "the husband."
- Puerto Rico is idyllic. But the Caribbean sun is powered by the devil!
- Despite their punishing me with a painful sunburn, I came to quite like those devilish rays and have had a difficult time adjusting to the rolling fog of San Francisco. I shake my fist at this sky and demand sun! But it doesn't help, and I find myself in the kitchen, heating a kettle of tea and wrapping a blanket around my tanned shoulders.