dear diary

Steph brought up something that I haven't really thought about in a while, keeping a journal--an actual, physical journal. "Psh", you say, "what's this here blog then?" I brushed off her IM with a nonchalant, "Oh well I blog now and I don't have too many incredibly personal things I need to keep hidden on paper." She replied, "Sure there are." Then I realized how lame and ignorant my response was. Of course there are! There are things I never really put out here for all to see and I do think it would be nice to return to and turn to (in times of need) a diary.

The conversation triggered some good ol' nostalgia, got me thinking back to when I was obsessed with diaries as a little girl because they made such darn cute ones--Sanrio, Suzy's Zoo, generic flowery ones from Hallmark--gotta catch 'em all! and I did. I collected diaries like I collected pogs and Pokemon cards. Though, there were two points during my childhood that I sat down and seriously kept a single (okay, maybe two) diary of my deepest and darkest secrets, Ooo ominous. You're probably thinking, "how deep and dark are a middle-junior high schooler's emotions?" But I can remember that the writing was, in fact, cathartic for my pre-teen soul, as were those delicious Chicken Soup series! I drank them up! If I correctly recall, there were recurring entries lashing out at father about how he kept "forcing" me to practice piano--my eight year old emotions tended to exaggerate, but I did go through some miserable times with discipline on lessons and practice. Now that I'm older, I can understand why he was so adamant about me sticking with piano for the ten trying years. His explanations are clear now and I'm sure further life experiences will continue to elucidate his reasoning. I also realize now that some of my reasons for understanding are a bit more personal and probably more relevant on the pages of a diary. Perhaps someday soon, when I'm more comfortable sharing those juicy stories, I shall, but I gotta keep something in the suspense box out of fear of losing you, my avid reading audience of three, or four, or maybe more?! I iz basically famous!
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In less dense and weighty news, I believe I have officially crossed over from Daisy Fail Scout to Junior Fail Scout after sleeping 20 hours from 6 P.M. Tuesday until 2 P.M. Wednesday (yup, straight through my classes). At first, most of you may be happy that I finally slept, but the cause of this mega-slumber was a weekend of insomnia. So, fail it is!

I spent the rest of the day glued to TED Talks and fortunately, they're more guilt-free than watching trash tv. I like to think that my IQ goes up a few with each clip. Wishful thinking? Oh well, eat, pray, love. Gilbert also has a wonderfully soothing voice much like Karen Sharp. Gawd, that voice! She can make anything sound like a spa tape. I'm always tempted to call in with a dedication just to hear her say it. "___, Megs is stuck out there cursing up a storm in L.A. traffic, but she wishes you the best Vday ever. She hopes you stickittodaman at your new job and wants to dedicate 'B*tch' by Meredith Brooks to you. Sleep tight." So soooothing.