Wednesday, January 4, 2012


As I sit in an overcrowded coffee shop waiting for a friend (to go to another coffee shop...), I spent a bit of time reading some old blog posts from last January. It is a good thing I don't hate myself after that, right? I remember finding my journal from middle school when I was sixteen and being absolutely horrified with what I had written. Oh. My. How could I have been so utterly ridiculous?

Now, Facebook has the Timeline feature, so I meandered in 2008 for a few minutes and almost had a heart attack at the things I was writing. Completely consumed with myself, it appears. Totally infatuated with a boy, and apparently with smiley faces. My "status updates" were usually pop song lyrics. What I have gained from this pathetic realization, at least, is to sympathize with anyone under the age of twenty on Facebook. Post your pictures, write your hearts out, and I will refrain from any judgment. Sheesh.

Though both in my private journals and notebooks and social outlets I have clearly expressed myself foolishly and with pain I look back on these musings, I will continue to write - one does get better with practice. In twenty more years I will look back on my memoirs I work on, and laugh, but also have something of worth, words that gushed from my heart and soul, words I meant and felt were important once upon a time. With much editing, revision and wisdom, they might even be reworked into something worth publishing someday. We'll see.

Writing makes me happy, writing is probably the most natural thing I do. That and talking with people about their problems and mine. And sleeping, I do that pretty well, too. Actually I'm a wonderful sleeper, I always have been.


Donna Boucher said...

Aw Emma. You are the best sleeper! Any time. Any where! Yes. My high school diary is boys, boys, cheerleading, boys.

In homeschooling we call following your interests...delight directed. You are still on that quest.
It's a good thing.

( I didn't make up that term.)

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