For as long as I can remember I have kept a journal, a diary some say. I would spend hours just writing my thoughts and experiences down into these journals. They started off being cute little things, all pink with flowers and a little lock that couldn't keep a bug out. They progressed through the years into solid colors with some writing on the front, sometimes the writings came with it and sometimes it was my own writing of the current boy I planned to marry when I grew up weather it be the boy in my school or the most current movie star of that time. Regardless, my journals always represented me at that current time of my life.
Here I am taking that next step and out the door, or at least tucked away under my bed, are the hand writings of my deepest thoughts and desires along with all my secrets. I have graduated into blogging. Now my thoughts and experiences can be shared with the world, or at least anyone who takes the time to read them. So pretty much just me again. If you are one of the people who find they have the free time to read this then congrats for opening your mind to my thoughts and opinions. Enjoy, then after your done why don't you go ahead and get yourself a hobby.:)
My first experience that I wanted to write down and never forget? I remember it so clearly, back when I actually believed that Santa crept down our fake chimney and eat the cookies that were left by my brother and me, I can remember that year so well because my brother and I were very sick that Christmas Eve and we all had to skip our yearly tradition of going to my Grandparents house. It was amazing to me that my parents and my brother and I happened to all be sitting on the couch looking at the Christmas Tree just as we heard 'reindeer" hoofs hitting the roof and before I knew it, "Santa" came through the back door to surprise us with a visit and a few gifts to make us feel better. It was one of my most treasured Christmas memories and I knew I never wanted to forget it and as luck would have it, Santa gave me a diary that Christmas, not because I asked for one but because he is Santa and he knows what is in every little childs heart. That was when I decided to start my diary.
I came to the decision to start my diary based on that experience, I decied to start this blog, one because I am sick of hand writing everything but mostly because I held in my hands this morning that very first diary. Started January 1, 1984. Pink Vinyl with little hearts all over it. A wrap around little lock that came with a key that I never lost, after 26 years, I never lost that key. The lock of course could be opened when you add just a bit more power then opening a door knob but that didn't matter to me, as long as I held that key, I was convinced that no one could get into that diary. It holds my thoughts of my childhood, the good, the bad, the thoughts that I would never tell anyone else. People always say that they wish they could go back to their childhood, well, I can go back. I can go back to specific days and bypass the ones that I want. I can recall certain feelings, smells and images just by reading what I wrote some 25 years ago. It is an amazing trip that I like to take sometimes. A trip back to riding my bike from morning till night, a trip back to chasing the ice cream truck or re-living a favorite birthday party, or a fight with my bestest friend. A trip back to my first kiss or graduation from elementary school.
As I grew older and matured, my diaries turned into journals and they lost the hearts and locks that held my secrets in place. They never lost the heart and soul that I put into each entry. They never lost the emotion that I felt with very written word and they never lost the excitement that I felt and still do to record my thoughts and experiences down on paper. So now I guess when I am done I can't hold my journal on my chest and wrap my arms around it and laugh or cry, depending on the entry of that day but I can share it here, with you and maybe just maybe, you or someone you love will start a diary or journal of their very own.
Peace,
Christina
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