forthcoming

I wrote a new post....no really, I did. And it's not this one. I've been reading Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller and in the middle of one of the chapters I was inspired to write about something that was triggered in my mind.

I wrote it in a journal that Kevin got me that looks like this:


It's funny because I don't write in a journal very frequently, but I'd like to, which is why Kevin got it for me. This was my first time to write in my journal as if it were a blog, so that was interesting. Usually my journalling is very stream of consciousness, and I was writing this one as an editorial commentary. Ha! (I don't know if that paragraph waranted a "Ha!" at the end, but I Ha!'d nevertheless.)

Whenever I think of writing in a journal, I automatically skip to the future and think about how one day my grandkids will be sifting through boxes one of my my kid's attic and be just about to go downstairs, having found the contents of their search well below their satisfaction, when they catch a glimpse of one yellow corner of my journal poking out of a box that up until this point remained unopened. Then they will sit and pour over my journal for hours, reading about my ridiculously fascinating life.

Oh, made up happenings that over-glorify me.

All that to say, as soon as I remember, I'll copy the entry into a fancy magic box (read: computer) and you'll be able to read my ponderings at the time.

Holla!

there's a hole in the bucket, dear LIZa....

That's it. It's finally happened. Liz Penelope Lowrie (that's not her real middle name) started a blog. Click on the word "blog" in the previous sentence. It's not the normal "link" color, so I am forced to leave you, my devout readers, instructions. I ask that when you go to the address that you look closely at the URL. I love it! Here's Liz:


She's funny, cute and married to boot! Read her blog. Religiously.

reveal-ation

I've always wished that I kept a journal. I've gone through periods of my life when I've started writing in a journal and kept it up for, oh.....say three or four days, and other than being amusing to look at in hindsight, I never kept it up long enough to be anything of significance. So here sit I, with 3-4 pages of journal entries peppering 4-5 journals, the location of most I'm unsure about.

I think the reason I haven't is largely because of the time it takes to sit down and write in a journal, not to mention the ensuing cramp in my hand. When I'm actually inspired to write something down, it's generally lengthy and involved, and I don't have the desire to spend my free time writing on paper. Typing on the other hand, though it still takes some time, takes SUBSTANTIALLY less time and much less finger/hand/wrist exertion. Which is part of the reason I like to blog. I like to write. About myself, my friends, social goings on, current events, Jesus, you name it.

However..... *cue dramatic crescendo of music*

On my blog, there are limitations. You see, I have feelings, and I go through struggles - with other people, with myself, things in my past, etc. and I don't always want to share them with anyone worldwide with access to a think box (read: computer). It really is theraputic, though for me to process my feelings and emotions and some such onto paper/screen. It helps me work through things, and sometimes it even reveals depths to those feelings and emotions that I didn't realize were there.

I know some people write things on their blogs about specific people in their lives, and some people mention those people critically. It boggles my mind that people can do that with a clear conscience. They write about people that can read what they're writing! It's almost a passive/aggresive way of getting your anger/hurt out there without having to face a person. Then there is a part of me that admires it. "Here are my feelings, like them or not. It really hurt me when you did this, and it's affected me, deeply." But there's also a part of me - the avoid confrontation and people not liking me or a decision I made at all costs part of me - that shudders at the thought of this.

I guess that since I don't like to put people on "front street" all exposed and stuff, I don't like to write about certain issues in this "e-journal" o' mine. Not everything is for everybody, and some things aren't for anybody. Just me & J.

On the topic of such things, I actually really appreciate censorship in people more than I appreciate a lack of censorship. I admire honesty, don't get me wrong. If I've offended someone, I want to know, but there are ways of communicating that don't have to a) make a person feel small, or b) make a person feel attacked and subsequently, defensive. I think that might lead into a whole other post in itself, so....NEXT!

I know I can't find a solution to this that involves me blogging cryptically, i.e. "This friend of mine who's a girl and was wearing that green number on Tuesday really hurt my feelings and I don't know how to handle it." I might just start keeping a file on my computer labeled "Top Secret Diary Folder - Do Not Open Even If You Really Want To," though my computer will tell me that the title contains too many characters. I just really like the idea of a handwritten journal.

Maybe I just need to get over it. Typing is the new writing. Hoopa!

our founding diddy's...

My friend Jerome started a new blog. He's funny. And insightful.

Enjoy.