Sense and Sentimentality in Packrat

Alright...I'm breaking in my new home here with a gripe session. You are forewarned.

This is more of a whine than a rant. The diary I so worried that I wouldn't get to save is now driving me nuts. It's saved in text, and I'm preparing it to print out. No pretty backgrounds, all entries run together - okay, so that's like a real paper diary. I want SOME semblance to what its presence was at OD. I'm bolding the titles to keep all entries separate, changed the font, spacing some things...but now my sentimentality over it all is wearing thin. If I weren't picky (oh, haha, I made a funny) I'd just print it all off as is, but no, I want it to look nice; I made a nice cover page for it and will keep it in a pretty binder...but turning Cinderella from house maid to princess IS TEDIOUS!!! No wonder fairy godmothers exist only in the movies. Even with technological advances making some things simpler, it's still a pain in the a...atmosphere.

But as always when skimming old entries, I'm struck by some things. I wrote about love and Free Spirit in 1999, and guess who's confusing my poor old brain and stirring my poor old heart in 2014? One person who appeared in a lot of my early entries was my online "dearest darling", NY. Those entries were written in 1999 and 2000, but while he and I have never met in person, he's still someone I tell things to. We may not email as frequently, but we stay in touch, and the last big news I had we talked on the phone for hours.

I just read the entry in which I speak of wearing a silver ring with two dolphins. That was 2000. Guess what ring is still on my right hand?

I'm glad we had the option to save notes as well. Some of the comments on my diary came from people who are no longer on this earth, and I treasure every one. I also saw a comment about how the coyote would try to handle things in his "lopsided coyote way" - which usually meant embarrassment and a wish to sink into the ground for me.

But that's what diaries are. "Junk drawers" where you can throw everything and do, but then when you're looking for that valuable artifact, there it is, stored away with the fluff.

Of course once it's printed, I'll have to squirrel it away as I do with my paper journals and hope that my open diary stays an open secret as they are.

Okay, now I have to get back to work because I'd rather have the pain in my backparts than to do the easy thing and keep it as is.