I’m going on a trip soon, and wanted to start a blog for chronicalization purposes (is that a word? I don’t have time to look it up but it’s okay- I make up words all the time.)
I have begun many blogs over the years, but always abandoned them by entry 2 or 3, usually because I forgot my user name and password whenever I had something to write down. This time will be better (… I wrote down my password this time).
Here’s the thing-I’ve always loved to write, but have never been thrilled about having people read what I’ve written. Over the last few years though, since the advent of Social Media (I’m saying this in my old woman voice), things are changing. I’m kind of an open book now, mainly because as I age, I have begun to care less about what other people think of what I think. Maybe that doesn’t make sense but…. it’s okay, I don’t care. I’m writing this for me.
My first journal was a little padded thing with a Scottie dog on the front and a high-security lock that could only be opened with a special key, or a bobby pin. If anyone were to open it (and I suspect they did, since I had two older brothers and a cosmetologically trained mother ripe with safety pins and wig-stands (I have a great wig-story, but that’s for another time)) they would have found out about my deep longing to marry Michael J. Fox and a couple of boys in my class at school. The humiliation would have been unbearable.
My room should have been off-limits, but let me tell you- there was a time when I hid my change jar and put a note in it telling my brother “YOU BETTER STAY OUT OF THIS, JERK” (because I was tired of being robbed), and he left a note back. After combing my room for my money jar, finding it, and robbing it, he left a note that said: “You’re a jerk. I’ll pay you back after allowance day.” Maybe I was, but I suspect it was the other way around. We get along fine now (in case he’s reading this).
The Scottie Dog Journal and all of my subsequent journals piled up in a cardboard box with notes from friends and letters from pen pals until one day when I was 18, and I burned them all in our fireplace. Why did I do that? Who knows. I remember watching an episode of “Coach” while I was doing it. Maybe it was something Craig T Nelson said. Maybe I didn’t want my soon-to-be-husband to read about my love for Michael J. Fox. Whatever the reason, it is one of my biggest regrets. Up in flames went the response letter I received from the Snoopy Fan Club in second grade, with a handwritten note on the bottom commending my drawing of Snoopy. I always imagined it was written Charles Schultz. Maybe it was. I hope it wasn’t.
So this is my brand-new burn-proof blog. The coolest thing about it, is that the photos are no longer cut from Teen Beat magazine and on the internets I can find as many photos of celebrities as I want- for free! This should be fun for some. Others may hate it, but the coolest thing is I don’t care anymore. You can leave your bobby pins at home.