paperback writer rides again
2002-08-03@12:44 a.m.

I'm home! I slept in my own bed last night!

I already miss the baby. I knew I should have snuck him into my suitcase.

For lack of a better segue, speaking of suitcases when I was in the eighth grade I started keeping notebooks. The first one started out as a journal, but since I'm normally terrible about keeping journals it quickly became a receptacle for bad poetry and the longest lists I've ever kept (example: Top One Hundred Hot Guys. Ralph Fiennes was number one for two years running.) I also wrote down story ideas, life goals and notes to my friends. I would only use one kind of notebook though, it had to be a 9.5 by 6 inches with 5 subject dividers. That way I had sections for my poetry, stories etc. The subject dividers were filled with movie quotes written in a spiral design and the occasional doodle. I went through a notebook about every 3 to 5 months and I'm pretty sure I still have each of them.

So why am I telling you this seemingly pointless and definitely boring information? Well, I really liked keeping these notebooks. It was the closest thing to a journal that I could keep without all the hardwork. They were my creative outlet when the preppy loving drama teacher wouldn't cast me in any of the plays (that bitch.) And I bought one yesterday.

A red, Mead, 9.5 by 6 inch notebook. It already has two named sections. Musicology (first item, Albums I need to buy, the definitive list) and Internet Stuff (I know, I'm awfully creative.)

So I think its a good sign. I stopped keeping the notebooks when my depression reached its penacle so maybe this means I really am getting better.

There's just something about 200 pieces of blank paper that makes me feel hopeful.

< woman no cry. baby no sleep. - at the mercy of my keyboard >

Name: MsMongi aka Kim
AIM: Lola_N_Slacks

Too Pink? Bite me.

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