It's really strange to see entries dating back nearly 6 years ago--before I had a brain. Even now, almost two years have passed since my last entry. This shouldn't be a surprise. I don't show very much devotion to my journals.

The first one I ever got was in 5th grade. It was glittery and keylocked. I thought that owning it would make me a notepad-carrying literary prodigy. Kind of like a miniature Hemingway... First I wrote in it every day. Then every week, then month, until the widely-punctuated entries trickled to a stop.

Then I got another diary for my 16th birthday. A total of 8 or ten entries marks that one (most about my naiive romantic exploits), spanned over the course of my few years of adult life.

Yet, as minimal as they are, and as embarrassed as I feel for their (mostly) stupid content, I'm glad that they're there. The older and wiser you get, the easier it is to forget your past selves, and the harder to see just how much you've grown up.

So, this will be one entry among many dotting my slow life cycle. I hope Diaryland lasts that long. :)

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Things going on in my life:

I'm still dating Christian, my soulmate. We'll probably get married and have babies one day. It's that good. :) As of this writing we're 2 years, 2 months old.

I'm living with Cat, an excellent roommate.

I have a cat, an excellent bedmate.

I've grown out of anime, especially Inuyasha. (Rumiko Takahashi needs to learn to finish a series.)