thank you Crazy Hip Blog Mamas for including me on your blogroll. i seriously began to doubt my limited tech-savvy skills, figuring i couldn’t even copy and paste correctly. then i figured, oh well, i’ll keep this up. i may be talking to myself, but it is an outlet and infinitely more socially acceptable.
i had a diary as a kid. it was covered in pink faux leather and had a little gold lock and key. i think i left the key attached to the latch, for fear of losing it. i was trusting back then. (that was before i confirmed my mother steamed open my mail, incoming and outgoing, to and from the Middle and my junior high friends from summer camp. i knew enough and threatened her with the Federal offense she was committing. Loving relationship, eh?) i recall the diary was a fad, that i diligently made daily entries for maybe a week or two, and then eventually i lost interest. even when journaling was recommended by a professional for my psyche, in the days i was so eager to please adults and authority figures that i was a freaking anorexic, i still lost interest. there is very little documented evidence of my thoughts, my dreams, my stories. that’s ok. as much as i would like to make a difference in this life, i’ve come to realize when i make my mark, it will be rather silently and touch a select few.
i’ve got a good husband and a great kid. if that’s the best i can do, it’s still pretty damn good.
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