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Like everything, a journal is the reflection of a journey and its form morphs with time. This archive covers my blogging from 1999-2002.


The Blogger years. It started as I began travelling and wanted a more daily journal of my life to share with my friends.
oct sept aug july
june may april march
feb jan    
dec nov oct sept
aug july june may
april      

The leap from milky white pages to glowing white screen...the start of virtual exhibitionism.
apr.17: irate
apr.08: expired
apr.07: home
apr.06: free
mar.26: bound
feb.18: inked
jan.02: lost
jan.02: dream
sep.13: high
sep.02: wander
aug.30: touched
jul.24: glow
may.11: snap
feb.29: sex
jan.11: why
jan.01: the apocolypse
dec.06: mourning
nov.01: insanity
oct.13: caged
oct.13: surrender

baring a soul : march 2001

bound: 03.26.01
"Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

those ties that bind.

in all the ruckous of moving, i have learned a lot about my interpersonal relationships. i have become acutely aware of the people who are treasures to me...the ones i know will never be far away. i have been forced to understand and accept those who can't be a part of my life...and to let them go. moving seems to filter people pretty efficiently.

but funny enough, tonight i am not thinking about those i am leaving behind, but someone i left behind a long time ago.

i got vicky's wedding invitation today. she was my best friend for 12 years...my soulmate through high school...the one who picked me up off the floor more times than i can count.

its been years since we have been really close...we drifted into our own lives...occassionally touching base, but in that distant casual way that never really tugs at your heart-strings. our initial breakup had been hard, but the years had buffed out the sharp corners and our distance was just a factor to accept.

she's been engaged for years. this was no surprise.

i figured that when i opened up that envelope and knew the date, i would find a way to scrape together the money...and put myself on a plane for a helluva reunion.

until i saw that the wedding was in Costa Rica.

merf.

i just sat blinking at the invitation.

and my chest got all tight.

and i realized that no matter how many years we had been apart, *this* was the thing i was supposed to be there for.

*this* was the thing that we dreamed about when we were 12, scribbling boys' names on our book covers: Mrs. Virginia Graciella Shaver, Mrs. Vicky Cabe, Mrs. V.G. Cook.

and for the first time in years, i was homesick to live around the corner from her...to pad over in bare feet and pajamas to giggle late into the night.

to try on foofy dresses and parade around.

to leave little notes on a damp car windshield.

to swing as high as we could on the swingset at the elementary school playground, jumping off in mid air to chase the ice-cream man as he crept past.

when we ate raw chocolate chip cookie dough and wept about stupid boys, i knew i would be there.

when she sang "So Happy Together" to me, i knew i would be there.

when we sat in the back of the band bus reading the truly tasteless joke book, i knew i would be there.

and i'm not gonna be there.