We are starting to pack up and get ready to move and we started, per usual, with the books. (Yes, we have a "usual" moving routine now as this is the 7th move we'll have made - 8 if you include the time we moved my non-profit's office - since we've known each other and Dan and I met, for the first time, 4 years and 2 months ago.) As Dan was sorting through stuff last night he came out with a notebook and said one of my old journals must have made it's way into the books. I thought it couldn't be, but sure enough, there it was, with entries dating back to '95. It's in the trash now. Buried in the trash. I really should have burned it. I think I would die if anyone got their hands on it. The silliness that pervades the mind of a teenage girl should not be recorded for anyone to see. Oy!
We went to bed soon after, but I couldn't sleep. I kept remembering all these embarrassing moments from my teen and early college years. Shear torture I tell you. Then I started to think of my current mode of journaling, this blog of course. I know I put all sorts of silliness here, but I really hope that I don't look back 12 years from now and cringe at all I wrote. Maybe at just a few things-
Like this picture.