My journal turns 29 this year. Can that be right? I thought i was 29. (har harharhiarharh)
(i have to. I watch this show on a constant, unending loop)
Yesterday I was at a friend's house making french toast. She was like, "want to come over for brunch?" and I was like, "yeah, what can I bring? i've got berries, brioche, orange juice, eggs."
Did someone say "breakfast foods"? I've got you covered. So I brought over everything including my own pan and was like, "step aside." I will totally bulldoze your food ideas. But she was happy about it so it's fine.
While I was doing that she told me she used to be a chameleon. She'd mirror the moods or attitudes or or demeanors of whoever she was with, including guys she dated. She'd take on their interests as hers, personality traits. Until she realized what she was doing and stopped. I asked her what brought on that realization and she said an assignment in college where she had to JOURNAL EVERY DAY. (emphasis added. She did not necessarily speak in bolded all-caps, but that's how I heard it) She said that as she did this, she realized she didn't know who she was, didn't know what her own interests were, and it helped her learn about and find herself and ultimately, love and appreciate herself.
If you know me, this is not news, how I feel about journaling. But I really love having empirical evidence for something I strongly believe in, particularly when I did not have to gather it myself, so you know it's totally unbiased.
Happy anniversary*, best friend.
*It actually turns 28, not 29, but I really wanted to use that 30 Rock clip.
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