Contents of a Serial Suitcase
Reading my journals makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel a little more of that distance that I almost pride myself in maintaining. I don't talk a lot about my kids or my family. I leave out the wonderful little stories that my boys give me and they give me real gems. I don't ever mention Keith or really anyone who is important to me. Words hit the paper like spit on the concrete. They all have that same thump. What woman spat this nastiness?.
I wasn't ready to call this Unpacking My Journal. If you knew me at all you'd know that I never really unpack anything. I like the notion of a Serial Suitcase. Full of dirty laundry and cheesy souvenirs. Course you know that by the time any person reaches the beginning of their secondary education they've kept more than one journal. My second grade teacher, Mrs. May required my first one. Everyday we would pull out our little pads of that funky lined paper and practice.
"Okay, class, let's work on our letters."
Whether we see it or not we begin from the first Aa keeping our journal: pieces of paper left when we've gone. Even if it's anonymous...It's still ours. Some we share. Most we don't. What we do share is our polished view. The one that you'd write in a "complete profile". I was always a funky ID. Did some of my best writings on those things. You can get really creative when you're an avatar. At the end of the night though when you finally close your book on the day you realize that mostly you are the things that you left out.
Maybe that's why my journal makes me feel guilty. It's all of the things that I leave out.
That ain't such a bad thing...Better out than in.
Thanks for this. I needed that ... Bit of air for this musty old closet.
I wasn't ready to call this Unpacking My Journal. If you knew me at all you'd know that I never really unpack anything. I like the notion of a Serial Suitcase. Full of dirty laundry and cheesy souvenirs. Course you know that by the time any person reaches the beginning of their secondary education they've kept more than one journal. My second grade teacher, Mrs. May required my first one. Everyday we would pull out our little pads of that funky lined paper and practice.
"Okay, class, let's work on our letters."
Whether we see it or not we begin from the first Aa keeping our journal: pieces of paper left when we've gone. Even if it's anonymous...It's still ours. Some we share. Most we don't. What we do share is our polished view. The one that you'd write in a "complete profile". I was always a funky ID. Did some of my best writings on those things. You can get really creative when you're an avatar. At the end of the night though when you finally close your book on the day you realize that mostly you are the things that you left out.
Maybe that's why my journal makes me feel guilty. It's all of the things that I leave out.
That ain't such a bad thing...Better out than in.
Thanks for this. I needed that ... Bit of air for this musty old closet.
posted by millay | 9/14/2005 12:01:00 AM
4 Comments:
Huh! Paradoxes, labyrinths, conundrums, mazes, puzzles, mysteries, metaphors, locked doors, deadends, and loose ends--a packed-up, unpacked, repacked, non-security-checked, lost-and-found (so sorry, ma'am, the airline is not responsible) nautilus shell of a piece! Even an 'avatar' which I always have to look up!
So, what are you going to do in the writing line between now and Sunday when I post week 3 of 162?
So, are you saying your journaling dissatisfies you--that you have an ideal journal-type in mind, full of stories about kids and s.o.'s and that if you were not so musty, you'd be that journal-writer?
No. Not dissatisfied. But when I read others with their colorful tales and beautiful details, or when I read back through mine trying to pin point a date for this or that I wish that I were sometimes more inclined to leave those little jewels. But I'm not and I like the remnants that the journal offers in hindsight. That was what I came to in my piece. Before I worked on it I read the blogs of others. Namely the links you have on your page. Brilliant, beautiful pieces. Then I read my blog and even pulled out some old journals. They seemed lonely for lack of a better word. Noone but me in the pages. My journal is a recycling bin.
As for what I'll do now, well I have a girl that needs some help with chemistry. That will fill some time. After Friday I'll just keep checking your page in hopes that there was some little tidbit that I missed and then I'll pounce and devour it and wait for Sunday. There's always housework when homework fails me.
Look! A tidbit. A comment you made about the Big Nanie piece. Maybe I'll do something with that if the jones gets taller than the dishes in the sink.
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