Notebook Insanity And Collection

Let’s talk about notebooks. I mentioned them in my You May Be A Writer If.. post under number three.

3. You own ten different notebooks and MUST have all ten on hand 24/7 because they each serve a different purpose and people don’t understand that.

‘Like’ this post if you agree.

I have a notebook for every possible outlet of my life, and then other notebooks for the sub-outlets to those outlets.

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Some people don’t get that. Some people go to the 99c store, buy one notebook for their purse and that’s it. That’s all they use. No organizing. No page numbering. No index or table of contents. They sloppily jot down their whatever and move on with life.

Do they even worry about wasting paper? Do they use one note for one page and leave the rest of the page… blank? What about bookmarks? Do they indent?

Gonna Miss My Best Friend

A few blog posts ago, I wrote about being a college stayer, though I fear that that post came off too “woe is me.” The reality is I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. But I’m not sitting around, pitying myself day after day or anything of the sort. I didn’t want it to come off that way.

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However.

Today, you may pity me. Pity away. Because today (well, yesterday) I lost my best friend.

“You make it sound like I’m dying,” he told me and my friend.

“You’re gonna be dead to us,” she joked.

This is true. Though I am very much aware that the dead are incapable of shooting me a “I’m making friends!” text, when you see someone on an almost daily basis because they lived a few streets down from you and then suddenly can’t see them for three months. Instant. They’re gone. Only memories remain. It’s quite similar to death.

Half A Dog — Kiki

I have a dog named Kiki. She’s a chihuahua, which is mostly why I didn’t want her in the beginning. She wasn’t a yorkie, so I checked out.

My Mom, however, was interested. So one thing led to another and “Goggles” was then at our house — as my mother’s dog.

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We barely knew anything about her. My first impression was that she must have part wiener dog in her, for her length and the length of her tail. Other than that, the poor thing was just fixed and looked utterly worn out. She did nothing but sleep, and we weren’t sure she could bark.

One evening, we heard her yapping in her sleep, and we all shared little laughs and said, “she does have a voice!”

It was cute then.