monkeymom's Diaryland Diary

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Guest Entry - Rachel

Guest Entry from Rachel

It's amazing what you can find when you're not looking for it. I was looking for a journal to write in tonight since all mine are still in DeKalb and yes, I know, that's what Diaryland and Xanga are for, but there are some things that just don't need to go on the internet, so I was looking for a real journal to write in.

My problem is that I start a journal and then something happens, like I move away from home or I'm at home and I don't have my old one or I'm on vacation and need something to write in or I just don't like the book I have and want to start another one. So I've got like 4 journals started right now, but over time, they've all ended up in my apartment in DeKalb. The problem is, I'm not in DeKalb right now, so I went searching in my old room at home tonight for a journal I could write in.

I actually found the journal that I started right after my mission and stopped writing in about a month or two after Dave and I started going out.

Now, I love looking at my old journals. I usually get line-less sketchbooks to write in, because I like to draw in my journals, I also tend to save stuff in them, like scraps of paper, or pictures or stickers, or what-have-you, so they are always a lot of fun to go through. Well, I was flipping through this one, remembering some of the incidents, etc, when an old letter fell out.

It was one that Dave sent me after that first week he had come down to look at the schools. I'm not going to go into the details. Dave has a very... prosey, emotional style of writing and there's absolutely no way to reproduce it and I really don't have the stomach for it tonight. Anyway, I read the letter and laughed about it because it just made me realize how full of it he is, so then I decided to burn it. Don't get me wrong now. There was no malicious intent in the burning. I just decided that the letter did not need to exist anymore and throwing it away just didn't seem right. It would still exist in some form then and I didn't want it to at all, so I swiped the lighter that mom has in her room for candles and took that and the letter into the backyard.

The only problem is that it hasn't really rained in a while and I really didn't want to set the yard on fire, so it took me a few minutes to find a safe spot. I started by walking through the grass trying to feel for damp spots with my toes, but wasn't really coming across anything. Then I thought maybe the driveway, but most of it is covered in dry crap that has fallen from the trees. Finally, I settled on a bit of the driveway that was close to the house with one of my dad's velcro shoes nearby (to beat out the flames in case the fire got out of hand because no one would miss those).

The whole thing was over in about two minutes and all that's left is a smudge of ash on the sidewalk and the faint smell of smoke in my hair. Hmmm, all that's left is Ash. I'm sure that could be metaphorical, but I won't start getting all prosey. :) So, it was really a nice sort of evening, especially if you're a pyro.

12:01 a.m. - 2007-06-13
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