I am a prolific journal/diary starter. I have started so many journals/diaries that they are really not to be counted. I guess you could say that I am very good at starting a journal/diary. The part I struggle with is the whole regular writing thing that is expected of journal/diary writers. The only time I have ever been very good was when I was in Northern Ireland--even then I don't think I wrote an entry the last 2 or 3 months of my stay there. But since returning, I have been having a hard time convincing myself that there is something to write about--which is horrible because I haven't stopped thinking, doing, saying, etc. all the things that I did in Ireland it is just that the locale doesn't seem quite so cool. But I have recently decided to once again make the attempt and have gone so far as to purchase a wonderful, new journal that I am determined to finish so as to be able to proudly display it next to my Ireland journal.
It's gorgeous, isn't it? In case you can't tell, it is a lovely red leather. I absolutely love it and must finish it because it really must be displayed. As a means of inspiring me to write I have decided to re-read Bridget Jones' Diary. This is actually a great book for me to start reading right now since I was just saying in my last post that I need a good bathroom read (I drank 8 cups of water yesterday and I'm up to 5 cups of water today). One side effect that you may need to brace yourselves for is a temporary penchant to drop the subject from my sentences, an over use of the phrase "in the manner of," and possibly a preoccupation with being eaten by Alsatians.
I was just thinking about another book I just finished titled Book of a Thousand Days which, like Bridget Jones' Diary, is a diary. Interestingly, both these books books could be said to be loosely about how an ordinary (but to those who really know them obviously wonderful) girl makes her way in the world and through all the ups and downs of life ends up with a most amazing man. Is this how journals/diaries work? Could it be then that the reason I, an ordinary (yet possibly wonderful) girl, am still single is because I have yet to finish a journal? Food for thought? or horrible way to set wonderful girls up for disappointment? Ask me again in a year.