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03 September 2013 @ 03:24 pm
I'm on a boat  
Yes, that song I'm "listening" to is a real song, and it's exactly as bad as you're probably imagining it to be.

For Labor Day weekend, softlykarou and I went out to visit my parents in the suburbs, prompted by them mentioning that they had tickets to go on a boat ride on the Fox River, which was pretty much exactly like I expected. It was only an hour and the boat wasn't that fast--and it wasn't a real steamboat, since the paddle is just for show--but it was still really relaxing. There was even an overcast sky, so I didn't have to worry about being sunburned.

That's not the main thing I thought was notable, though.While I was looking through the stuff that I told my parents to throw away that they never threw away, I managed to find one of the books I was looking for--the World of Warcraft RPG, about which I'll have another entry later--and didn't find my Warcraft III CDs and had to buy them again, but one of the things I did find down in the basement while rooting through the storage room were the journals I kept in high school.

For pretty much the entirety of my four years in high school, I kept a pen and paper journal. I wrote at least a page every day, and sometimes more. Thinking back on that now, I wonder what exactly I wrote about? The daily minutiae of life in high school, I assume, and all the ponderings that only an adolescent who doesn't realize that their amazing philosophical insights have already been better expressed by others can think are worth writing down. That's what I remember going into that journal, and while I was there, I didn't pull them out and read them again. Maybe I should have. I've often thought of taking them and transcribing the entries in them into LJ, which wouldn't be as bad as it sounds because I wrote them using allusion and obfuscation with the aim of making anyone else who read them have a difficult time figuring out what it going on. Unfortunately, that works for me too--softlykarou read them a few years ago, and I couldn't answer most of her questions about them because whatever the context for the references within had long sense passed from my mind.

I think the main thing that I want to keep is continuity. I started out on Ujournal, which just vanished out from under me one day (which is why I back everything up on Dreamwidth, just to be safe). A while later, the entries came back on AboutMyLife.net, and while I saved some entries (you can see them under my Ireland tag), I reasoned that I had changed enough that it didn't matter and let the rest go. I still regret that. I posted a lot of random stuff, and a lot of worthless stuff...or at least, that's what I remember. Even AboutMyLife.net is gone now, so there's basically no way to get the others back. At least if I wrote down the stuff from my high school journals, it'd be saved, and in re-reading them to transcribe them would probably be personally valuable. But it's the probably that stops me, and also how much work it would be. Typing in more than 1500 handwritten pages would take a very long time. But if I don't do that, it'll probably get lost somewhere, like the other book and my WCIII CDs did. Ugh.

I haven't looked at it in over a decade. Maybe it doesn't matter.

"All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return."
Current Mood: pensivepensive
Current Music: あっくん - Shibuya Party Rock Night
q99q99 on September 3rd, 2013 10:48 pm (UTC)
I misread that as 'I'm on a boar' ^^
marianlhmarianlh on September 4th, 2013 01:34 am (UTC)
Whereas the first thing that came to my mind was Something Ellie's sig quote. "You're on a boat? Well I'm on an elf boat, motherfuckers, and elf boats are made from the bones of your face!"

I have no idea what the original context of that statement was, but it's always amused me.

Last fall, my parents sold the house they've lived in since I was 3, and when I helped them clear out the attic, I found several boxes of material from my elementary school days. Old school projects, crayon drawings, report cards, and goodness knows what else. Like your journals, a lot of it is now cryptic to me, but a few of the pieces brought back long-forgotten memories when I saw them again.