Well I have known all these things and the joys that they can bring*

For over 20 years now I have been keeping a journal. My first journal was more of a diary. Think those little books with the tiny locks and itty bitty keys. I recorded all sorts of things in them, from the summer temperatures to the fights with my brothers to the Casey Kasem Top 40 list. My brothers would steal them in search of some big secret, but I suspect they were probably sorely disappointed. Boring then, boring now.

Later I began recording teenage angst, loves lost and other “monumental” happenings. I have written daily Bible verses, lamented on who I wanted to be when I grow up and have even written an angry response or two to someone that may have wronged me.

For whatever they are worth, they are a record of my life. Unlike the mixed tapes I have mentioned they indeed are my words and my thoughts. Unfortunately most people who journal tend to be most productive when they are burning anger, frustration or hurt. Rarely do you interrupt a happy moment in your life to record it, you are too busy enjoying it. I am no exception, so I fear that if they were ever actually read by someone else, it might seem that I was continually depressed or consumed with anger.

I never held back in my journals. I let it all out. That could come back to haunt me, I realized that as I was putting pen to paper. However, it was probably the healthiest way for me tackle the issues at hand. Some things you can’t describe to others. Those little switches in our heads that cause us to worry about what others think keep us from being totally honest and upfront. A journal doesn’t judge you.

I have kept all of my “books” and have left strict instructions that upon my demise they must be burned and not shared. Those that love me have respected my privacy and my journals. Only once (to my knowledge) has someone breached this trust and the ramifications are still with us. It’s quite a break in trust to know that someone felt that they could have privy to some of your darkest and most personal thoughts. Those are yours to share, and yours alone.

I took a photo of my journals last night. I burned a few of my early ones in an effort to keep them away from prying eyes of my brothers. I regret that now, but most of them are filed neatly. I am including a poorly taken photograph of them. Here before you is my life.

I bought my god-daughter a journal recently. She’s only ten, but I know she must already be writing in her head, I just wanted to give her a place to lay her thoughts. I hope she does indeed get the journaling bug, the kind that allows you to write your deepest and most nonsensical thoughts. I hope she doesn’t edit herself and finds the joy in these things that I have found.

No cola rehab
This photo explains why I cannot break free of my fountain Diet Coke habit. 69 cents! It’s like offering free dope to a junkie. How can I resist? I got honked at when I took this photo (not due to my girlish figure) and I didn’t even care, I had big coke and that made everything alright.

(By the way, when they ask for openers are they referring to someone that has mastered those little ketchup packets?)

Dear Jordis
Onto the "Rock Star: INXS" front: Jordis, Jordis, Jordis. What’s happening to you? I am convinced that Gary Gary will save your hide, but you’d better shape up for next week. It’s a sad, sad day when Deanna has a better showing. I am still rooting for you. By the way, take a cue from Marty. He rocks!

*Lyrics taken from the “Anniversary Song” on the Cowboy Junkies’ album, “Pale Moon, Crescent Sun”. If you haven’t discovered this band, you should. Visit them here.