À Retourner
"Let me know if I'm completely out of line in asking this, but my boyfriend and I are planning a trip to Austin in January (tentative dates 17th or 18th through the 21st.) We don't know anyone down there, but from what I know of (all) the pirates, you seem like a decent bunch. We're a couple of Milwaukee pirates looking for a place to crash for the weekend. We'll stay out of your way (unless you feel like going on a ride with us.)
We'll even buy you some beer or cookies if you want.
Just let me know. Thanks in advance!"
Umm, I guess that was a saved draft. No one seems to use this any more.
I started reading my real journal from the beginning of the Jason story more than 6 years ago. Trying to remember what went wrong, what went right, the good, the bad, the ugly. It's a heartbreaking, unending, bittersweet story and sometimes there are huge gaps in it. Six-month-long gaps. That really bummed me out that I had let it go for so long, but I realized that the reason for said gaps was my livejournal which I was writing in almost once a day during 2006 and 2007. Last night, Sam commented on my last post before this and I was reminded that I wanted to break back into this before I forgot my password. There's a LOT of useless crap in here, and I think I knew that as I was writing it judging by the headings, but there are also a lot of forgotten stories and run-downs (I particularly enjoy the year-in-review posts.) My plan is to print them off and attach them to the paper journal, but that is already proving to be a bigger task than expected. I've spent several hours just cut/pasting into a word document suitable for cutting paper into the proper sizes.
Earlier this year, I moved, and upon finding boxes of journals and papers kept (including an auto-biography written when I was 13,) realized I'd been journaling for HALF of my life. This is incredible to me. Learning who you were is as important as who you are now, and the past holds so many clues as to why things turned out the way they have. As obnoxious as I was 6 or 7 years ago, I was still insightful. I still believe a lot of the things I did then, but there are other things I was so afraid of, or uneducated about that I just laugh now when I read how naive I was.
On Joe's birthday this year, we biked all over the Eastside, conquering parking ramps on our bikes, taking pictures from the top, gaining new perspective on the city. We did whatever he wanted to do, went to tons of different places and he insisted on paying. After the sun set, we rode to the top of Reservoir hill and watched fireworks with a little boy who asked Joe "What are you? 15?" The weather was absolutely perfect. Mid-70's, sunny all day, slight breeze. It was one of my favorite days of all time. We eventually went to a bookstore and as we were looking at blank journals, I suddenly got sad. One day, my entire life is going to be a shelf of books. And while that is kind of sad, it was also cathartic. How amazing. Upon reading this, I'm able to keep my current life's trials and celebrations in perspective (and there are many more of the latter.) I'm also forced to acknowledge the mistakes that I continue to repeat as I get older.
I feel decades older than the girl I left here in 2007. It was probably good for me to move on and away for a while, but I do love journaling, blogging, what have you. With the advent of facebook, I'm constantly posting status updates, sometimes ad-nauseum. If it's a slightly more personal matter, I might tweet about it. God, technology has come a long way in 3 years, and I'm sure that will continue.
I am tempted now to resurrect this journal, perhaps with a different handle, but part of me feels it may be best to move on and start over with a different medium... or keep everything to myself for you all to read when I'm dead. (That'll be more interesting than you are prepared for.)
We'll even buy you some beer or cookies if you want.
Just let me know. Thanks in advance!"
Umm, I guess that was a saved draft. No one seems to use this any more.
I started reading my real journal from the beginning of the Jason story more than 6 years ago. Trying to remember what went wrong, what went right, the good, the bad, the ugly. It's a heartbreaking, unending, bittersweet story and sometimes there are huge gaps in it. Six-month-long gaps. That really bummed me out that I had let it go for so long, but I realized that the reason for said gaps was my livejournal which I was writing in almost once a day during 2006 and 2007. Last night, Sam commented on my last post before this and I was reminded that I wanted to break back into this before I forgot my password. There's a LOT of useless crap in here, and I think I knew that as I was writing it judging by the headings, but there are also a lot of forgotten stories and run-downs (I particularly enjoy the year-in-review posts.) My plan is to print them off and attach them to the paper journal, but that is already proving to be a bigger task than expected. I've spent several hours just cut/pasting into a word document suitable for cutting paper into the proper sizes.
Earlier this year, I moved, and upon finding boxes of journals and papers kept (including an auto-biography written when I was 13,) realized I'd been journaling for HALF of my life. This is incredible to me. Learning who you were is as important as who you are now, and the past holds so many clues as to why things turned out the way they have. As obnoxious as I was 6 or 7 years ago, I was still insightful. I still believe a lot of the things I did then, but there are other things I was so afraid of, or uneducated about that I just laugh now when I read how naive I was.
On Joe's birthday this year, we biked all over the Eastside, conquering parking ramps on our bikes, taking pictures from the top, gaining new perspective on the city. We did whatever he wanted to do, went to tons of different places and he insisted on paying. After the sun set, we rode to the top of Reservoir hill and watched fireworks with a little boy who asked Joe "What are you? 15?" The weather was absolutely perfect. Mid-70's, sunny all day, slight breeze. It was one of my favorite days of all time. We eventually went to a bookstore and as we were looking at blank journals, I suddenly got sad. One day, my entire life is going to be a shelf of books. And while that is kind of sad, it was also cathartic. How amazing. Upon reading this, I'm able to keep my current life's trials and celebrations in perspective (and there are many more of the latter.) I'm also forced to acknowledge the mistakes that I continue to repeat as I get older.
I feel decades older than the girl I left here in 2007. It was probably good for me to move on and away for a while, but I do love journaling, blogging, what have you. With the advent of facebook, I'm constantly posting status updates, sometimes ad-nauseum. If it's a slightly more personal matter, I might tweet about it. God, technology has come a long way in 3 years, and I'm sure that will continue.
I am tempted now to resurrect this journal, perhaps with a different handle, but part of me feels it may be best to move on and start over with a different medium... or keep everything to myself for you all to read when I'm dead. (That'll be more interesting than you are prepared for.)