My husband has recently rebooted our old desktop so he could clean it out and trash it, so we could finally stop lugging it around each time we move. What we (maybe mostly me) forgot was how many memories it was keeping safe for us.
Over 20,000 photos to be semi-exact and each photo sent a small burst of warm light straight to my heart that I didn’t know I needed. Have you ever had a wake up call that knocked you on your ass and made you happy cry at the same time?
I needed to be reminded of the early stages of love with my then boyfriend, now husband. A lot of time and effort has been spent running from the memories of my early twenties.
Remember when it was our ‘thing’ to go out to the beach at night and walk? I pushed away from you for a long time, this picture is more than 1,000 words.
A slew of pain and bad choices cramp age 18 through 25, so I’ve forgotten about the magic of our firsts.
And it’s because, fast forward eight years and life has become more difficult. The monthly bills are more expensive, pressure of career choice weighs heavy on shoulders and the dinosaur-old-age trouble with money rears its ugly head more regularly.
That one time I flew out to California as your ‘friend’ and met your entire family. Our first trip together, three months after meeting for the first time and my first trip out west.
I needed a dress and was nervous about going to a fancy and very upscale restaurant with you and your dad for New Year’s Eve in 2008. We got back from the mall and my dress still had the ink tag on the side, we only had an hour to get ready and there was no way we could make it back to Wet Seal to remove the security device. I started to worry and get upset that my lack of nice clothing was going to ruin the night. You found a hand saw and carefully removed the ink tag while ignoring my frantic reasons on why I wasn’t going to be able to go and reassured me everything was going to be fine and it was, our first New Year’s Eve together was going to be our first of many.
In last week’s Dear Diary entry, never forgetting to dream was the central topic and it applies again to this week’s diary post. My husband and I have forgotten to dream, together. Instead, we’ve been consumed with money quarrels that has put us in separate deep, dark graves and it’s lonely down there.
It was your birthday and you were far away from home, so we took you to St. Augustine and did a ghost tour. It was only 2008, but still cheesy. Don’t forget to wear your sticker, otherwise you might be confused for a ghost!
So enough is enough. It’s time to appreciate all of the trial and tribulations of life because it’s the only one you’ve got.
This is Dear Diary: Party Like It’s 1998. We’ve finally made it in to the new year.
Jan. 2nd 98', I wish I was sexy like Sandy I Love Danny! Jan 9, 98 Remember the whale that I got from GrandmaR I love Grandma R! Jan. 14 98 I love the cute guy on Mrs. Fine. not Niles Mrs. Shepfield! <3<3<3 Jan. 18, 98 I love Camp Nowhere Bluse's Cluse JaberJaw and Clifford! January 30th, 1998 I am a Spy!!
How does a EIGHT YEAR OLD know the word sexy? Lawd help me if I ever have a little girl!
Also, how cute is it that I keep referring to The Nanny as Mrs. Fine. Did you ever watch that show? Mr. Sheffield is the OG of silver foxes, amiright?!
Jabberjaw was an old 30 minute television show which aired on Saturday mornings and featured a great white shark who continually saved the underwater sea community.
What, you don’t remember it? Neither did I, Google does wonders, so here’s a refresher clip for you, too.
Saturday mornings and the WB hold most of my favorite childhood memories. What were your favorite television shows growing up? Was anyone else a fan of Ghost Writers, Ahh! Real Monsters or Hey Arnold? Oh, oh! What about Arthur?
PS: I’m a spy because the movie Harriet The Spy had entered my VHS rotation and immediately became my number one movie. I was obsessed with learning how to be just like her. SO much so, many mornings and night were spent behind a couch spying on the family. #whoops
