…I would have at least a silver medal. (I think gold must go to my Ai-Ren, who at the tender age of almost-22, has finished 29 journals. Obviously she takes far more studious notes during sermons than I do. Now all I do is knit.)
You can see all my journals, except for the two most recent and a little one that I forgot to photograph, in the slideshow at the end if you have lots of time and stalkerish tendencies. Otherwise, some highlights:
- The earliest dated entry is 12/25/1997, written in the dalmatian diary I received (surprise!) for Christmas that year. I know that an earlier diary existed at one point, but its whereabouts are unknown. (I suspect it may be in a landfill.)
- I was fairly inconsistent in my journaling (see timeline) until about 2004. Part of this is due to pre-adolescent spasticity, and part of is due to the existence of my histrionic Xanga, into which I chose to pour most of ramblings in early high school.
- From 2/8/2004 onward, there is no discernible break in the journaling.
- The period from September 2009 until present (Sneaky Hate Vortex) saw a decrease in the frequency and length of journaling, but I don’t think I ever went more than a month without writing.
- Omitting the inconsistent journaling periods, the average lifespan of my journals is 204.4 days, or 6.8 months.
- February seems to be the most common starting date for my journals, and those first entries usually resemble, “Bitch bitch bitch it’s Valentine’s Day and boys won’t talk to me so I’m going to write a stupid entry about it in my stupid journal and feel proud of my woebegoneness.”
How fitting that the only topic on which I can write an overly detailed Pioneer Woman-esque entry is journaling.