Ann Dee Ellis posted about journals today on her blog. I commented that I did write in a journal, started when I was 9. But it was all a lie. Except for half the time where I apologized to my journal for neglecting it. Journals are sensitive things. And magical things. They sting you with guilt.
I have written from time to time. Tried to write a few things when my babies were little. I even wrote a few excerpts when Brendan and I were dating. I'm glad I did. Even though I was always worried about what my posterity would be thinking when and if they read them.
Maybe I should've written a journal of apologies. I imagine it would go something like this...
Sorry about the freckled white skin, and no, you will not tan. Just accept that pink and white are your only shades.
I should probably apologize for your want to punch people in the face. I should apologize for that. I really should. Punching people is wrong. But for some reason, punching people is some of my favorite memories. Also, sorry about whatever mental issue that is.
Sorry about being painfully competitive. Eventually you will temper and mature. But until then, kick some serious trash. Take no prisoners. NO ONE should ever beat you in a water fight. Ever.
Also, okay yes, this has to do with violence too. It's just that, well, just try not to land yourself in jail. I'm just saying.