Dear Diary

I have kept diaries since I was in middle school. At least I have on and off. I have always enjoyed the act of journaling and I treat it like an old friend. I recently came across one of my oldest diaries. I let my husband read it. What did it really matter, it is the thoughts and actions of a 14 to 15 year old girl, or maybe I was 16. I don't really remember. He really gets into reading those things, like he loves studying me. Now I see one of consequences from doing such a thing. I picked up a new diary. A leather bound book of blank pages, I love them. I couldn't help it. I came home and started writing in it. My journaling had stopped with the blog and I need to start that again. I mean it's not like I can really do the same thing online. You can't really share your heart and your raw emotion to anyone who could possibly want to simply stop by your web page. After I finished writing he looked over and asked if I wrote how I was sorry for not writing to the diary before because I hadn't purchased it before now. Yes, that sounds about what I would usually do. Hey, like I said I write to them as an old friend. I've read diaries where the person writes simple and basic info of their day. That is so boring! I can't take that. One thing that I love more than anything else is letters. I love reading old letters and such. Sometimes I miss the fact the act of letter writing is more or less dead, taken out by email. I write the diary like a letter. I think it makes it so much more interesting when you look back. Maybe that is why Arthur was drawn in? I don't know. Hmm.... I just know I must sleep. Diary and then blog is a little much, but on the weekend I have time. What can I say? Laters.