Dear Diary – RamblinRandol

Path to Publication or Acceptance & Depression

TikTok is either trying to troll or humble me. The algorithm keeps feeding me videos of young ladies in their early twenties doing GRWM clips for class. They all start with an immaculate skincare routine before doing a full face of makeup then hair and cute outfit. Every lady looks so put together and fab. In my heart, I am one of these ladies.

I pretend to be put together before reality crashes in and reminds me I was showing up to class in men’s basketball shorts and a tank top or oversized hoodies and sweatpants that needed the waistband to be rolled two or three times so I wouldn’t trip.

While I have evolved from men’s basketball shorts and sweatpants, it would take a miracle to get me to their level, haha. And that’s okayyy, lol. I know I can’t be the only one.

Speaking of accepting reality. Remember when I said, brb, gonna chase my dreams? Well, it took longer than expected (that pandemic whooped my ass) but the manuscript is “finished.” I’ve been pitching it to literary agents since the beginning of January. My goal is one a week. All but two have sent me rejection emails so far.

The thanks but no thanks emails haven’t dampened my mood. It feels exciting to have made it to this part of the process after dragging my feet and self-sabotaging the editing stage for so long. All the nos just make me feel “official.” Hahaha.

This will probably wear off as time passes and the not for me but good luck notes stack up. Last week I pitched to Meg Thompson. She edited Men Have Called Her Crazy. Every hot-button-item topic was well fleshed out. There was personality emphasized in the writing. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. My gut simply shouted out, her! She would be excellent for Don’t Forget to Tip Your Waitress.

I took an extra week to complete her submission form. A rejection from her will probably sting. But who knows, right?

One of her asks was for a website. So here I am, resurrecting RamblinRandol with a new and clearer purpose. Documenting (because I don’t wanna spill the beans on Instagram… yet) this (what I expect to be winding) path to publication or depression that leads to acceptance because maybe this idea I’ve had for the past ten years just isn’t in the cards.

Hoping to update you every Monday. We’ll see. I hate rules. Even ones proposed by me.

Byeeeee

Dear Diary: I love that funny guy

At eight years old I noticed not everyone lived the same way and wanted to make a difference in the lives of those less fortunate. Reading that last entry Dear Diary: I live in Walden, made me happily pause to re-read what I had wrote 20 years ago.

This Dear Dairy experiment started in hopes to figure out who I was as an adult by reading the diary entries of my past. It may be too soon to tell and I don’t want to jinx it, but I think it might be working.

Have I always known exactly who I wanted to be? Maybe I just needed to force myself to remember.

Dear Diary: I love that funny guy …

December 23, 1997
I love that adein sanders!

December 25, 97
Today I saw the real
Santa Claues on T.V.
Now I know there is a
Santa Claues in the world. 
tell my children that.

December 26, 1997
I LOVE THE SPICE GIRLS

December 29, 1997 
Rember the claddaugh neclies 
to the symbol, hart symbol of love, hands - symbol of friendship
crown - symbol of loyalty. It was from Grandpa and Grandma S!

December 29, 97
On grease I am Sandy and I love Danny! <3

December 30, 1997 
Rember I can fly in my dreams. 
Those are the best <3

Happy Gilmore had probably just came out and it wasn’t his one liners that stole my heart, it was the saving grandma’s house story line.

I’ll tell ya what I want, what I really really want… and I wanted to be Scary Spice. She was and remains to be, my favorite Spice Girl. Sorry in advance for getting the song stuck in your head.

*Giving bunny ears to Scary Spice at Madam Tussauds Wax Museum in New York City.*

Did you walk to the gas station after school every day to buy a Spice Girls sucker, with high hopes you’d get the final sticker you needed to complete your collection? #guilty

Everyone loves Danny Zuko, enough said.

Dreaming is important, both figuratively and literally. As time has passed, I’ve forgotten to dream about possibilities of the future. Life can be hard, but it’s important to keep on dreaming. Don’t allow bumps in the road to determine your overall goal.

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: What happened to Sporty Spice?

PSS: RIP to armband tattoos.

Dear Diary: I Live in Walden

The first big move has happened. I no longer attend Wolcott Street School in Le Roy, New York. Corn fields do not elongate my backyard or catch my model rockets durning the summer. We livin’ in the big city now.

[insert car brakes screeching, records skipping or nails on a chalk board]

Walden wasn’t big city living, it was bigger small town living compared to LeRoy. Another bonus was my bus ride, I wouldn’t be stuck on an hour long route. Walden is also where my Mom achieved Mayor status.

Well, not actually the Mayor but if she would’ve ran for Mayor in the town of Walden, she could’ve won by a landslide. Tu Madre knew everyone in town and there was no such thing as a quick run-in to the grocery store with her, she’d get stopped two or three times to chat.

Walden 2 — Welcome to Walden, New York. Look at all those houses!

My uncle (her brother) used to ask if she wrist cramps for all her pageant waving. I moved out of Walden four years later and have only been back once, same goes for LeRoy. It would be interesting to go back, even better with my Orange County husband. He thought Florida was country ….

Something interesting has happened since beginning this odd journey down memory lane. The narrative inside my head has began to change. Instead of constant self-doubt, a thin sliver of confidence has cracked my inner voice and it’s getting louder.

But let’s not jinx it.

Dear Diary: December 1997

December 19, 1997
rember Tammie's family. 

December 20, 1997
My first sleepover in Walden. 
You know taly Ho in Midlda and the girls seid it to.

December 21, 1997
I love Mrs. Clements the hamster!!
And Pepper!! <3

December 22, 1997
I love Grampa in heven!!! <3

December 22, 97
I like that guy on smooky mouton christmas!

December 20
I feel bad for poor people maybe
one day I will make a sand of food and poor people can eat
and I would give some of my clothing for them!
Maybe when I grow up I will do that if I rember!!

Yeah, so I named our family hamster after my Kindergarten teacher and then told said teacher I had named a rodent after her …

There is no better flattery than a 7 year old loving you so much they want to name their pet after you, at least here’s to hoping that’s what she thought.

The last diary entry gave me a whole lotta pause. It’s incredible how small children can have such huge (greater than themselves) thoughts.

Of course there’s no memory of what prompted this post, but little Shannon would be pleased to know I beelined for nonprofit work after college and haven’t stopped helping those who can’t help themselves.

PS: Smokey Mountain Christmas, who?

PSS: ‘I love Grandpa in heaven,’ makes me a little uncomfortable, almost so much that I wasn’t going to acknowledge its existence. Grandpa in heaven was hardly mentioned after my Dad’s dad passed and is never talked about now.

It freaks me out that this person (who I only knew for 6 years) gave my own Pops life and has been erased from conversations. Death is weird and everyone copes the best they can.

Dear Diary Series: December 1997 II

This Dear Diary series should get renamed to I Love [ fill in the blank] series instead. If love had a max fill line, my cup runneth over. To be honest all the love is a bit embarrassing, but if my homework was to be uncomfortable than I’d get an A+ because this week’s entry is way worse!

Quick recap: I am magic and my family is possibly magic, too. The verdict is still out on Pops but I’m convinced his love is magic (according to the drawing). I think bus crush Neil has been left in the dust of “loves lost” and have moved on to someone named Andrew.

There’s a real possibility I try to find my yearbooks so we have some faces to go with names, but my lawyer hasn’t gotten back to me.

JK. Lawyer is code name for conscience.

Here is December 1997 part II.

December 11, 97
Loves
<3

December 12, 97
I love
Scooby Doo!

December 12, 97
I love Frosty the
snowman!

December 12, 97
I love
Santa

December 12, 97
and I 
the song 
of Frosty!

December 12, 97
We made a Snowman   now
we can name 
it Frosty the
Snowman!

December 12, 97
I wish
Frosty would
come to 
life.

December 12, 97
I wish
Santa could
play to
with us!

December 12, 97
I am going 
to have my Diarys for
ever

December 12, 97
I will have
my Dairy keys
for ever!

December 12 97
on homealone 
that guy
I love him

December 12, 97
On home alone
that old guy
I love him

December 14, 97
I am pen pals with my teacher and friends

December 19, 97
:)

December 12, 97
I got this
Diary on my
brithyday

December 12, 97
I got this
Diary from my
Grandma S. 

December 12, 97
On home alone this old giy is nice!!
L <3

December 13, 97
My family is
pepper, Kelly, James,
Mom, Dad. 

December 13, 97
I love
pepper

December 13, 97
I love Kelly

December 13, 97
I love James

December, 13, 97
I love Mom
pritty

December 13, 97
I love Dad
handosm

December 13, 97
And I love
myself

December 13, 97
James is
handsom.

December 14, 97
I love 
Johnny
Bravo

December 16, 97
name my eagle 
evenger

December 16, 97
I like 
the
70s dance

I love couisen
it on the adam's
family. 

I love Fester

I love Bascket
Ball

I love pepper

I love all sorts of
dogs!!!

Are you as exhausted as I am by reading all of those I Love Yous?

I sound a little manic, desperately writing down every single piece of information possible about who I love so I won’t forget. Why was I so worried about forgetting?

This phase grew from writing it down on paper to taking photos. An entire afternoon during 5th grade was spent lining up every possession I owned so each item could be photographed. An elephant never forgets, so neither should I.

It’s entirely possible this obsessive need to remember came after my grandpa died and learned about death for the first time at six years old.

I’m happy to announce the anxiety driven panic has been slowly stiffened over the years, but can still rear its head when seemingly fit.

Can we talk about the old guy from Home Alone? You know who I’m talking about, right? Shoveled snow while mean muggin and creepy music played?

Old Man Marley ends up saving Kevin at the end and isn’t as scary as once believed. Underrated characters who turn out to be the hero in the end are my favorite.

Oh yeah, and I’m positive my 8-year-old self would be pleased to know this diary has lasted forever.

But I hate to tell ya kid, those keys have been long gone.

[NEXT] Oh, Santa. How I believed in your magic for far too long. I was in middle school when a friend started to pick on me about believing. I ended it the only way I knew how,

“Say Santa is real or I won’t give you your Christmas gift!”

Like most little kids who like getting gifts, she complied. Pretty sure that was the extent of my bullying. I bullied for Santa’s sake.

If you’d like to dig up some of your old dirt and have it featured on the Dear Diary series, email it to ramblinrandol@gmail.com

PS: I think my siblings would be pleased to know I loved them so much I wrote it down a zillion times.

PSS: My spelling errors are phonetic enough that spellcheck tries to correct them to the proper spelling for me every time.

Dear Diary December 1997

I have a confession. I flipped through a couple of the pages in my next diary and had a quick thought I should end this NOW. Guys, it’s SUPER embarrassing. It starts somewhere in the early middle school years. Ya know, when it’s cool to write your name with your crushes last name…

I’m going to have to start drinking while I write these; liquid courage.

Quick recap: Still no Neil or Alissa. It has snowed a bunch which isn’t riveting because it’s Buffalo. It snows all the time. No joke, had a birthday party in May and snow started to dust the ground while we swung at the piñata. My diary signature ‘Love Shannon’ has disappeared, probably because it wasn’t cool anymore.

Oh yeah, and my family has three bat stories.

Here is December 1997.

December 9, 97
Andrew
is cool!!!!!

December 10, night 97
I have to be magic
Because I took plastic. A 
little piece of plastic,
and put it on my finger 
and it fell on my elbow
because My finger was 
sticky and the plastic 
stick to me and not
just my elbow!

December 10, 97, night
Even Kelly, James, MoM are magic,
But I don't know
if DaD is But,
if are
then his is <3

December 11, 97
I
am
Magic!

December 11, 97
I Love
Andrew in
my class
Walden Elementary school!!!

December 12, 97
I love
Scooby Doo!

[Dear Diary] My name is Super Nerd and I’m highly embarrassing.

Jesus, I’m going to have to start digging out my old yearbooks. Andrew, if you’re out there and not too terribly shy, show your face! I’d like you to do this willingly so I don’t get sued if I flash your picture.

Could I even get sued for revealing the face of my 4th grade crush? There’s gotta be a statue of limitations already in the books regarding 15 year old crushes.

Oh, and I’m magic. Just in case you somehow missed it up there in the big red letters.

This little girl doesn’t even know what magic is yet. She still thinks the only magic left in the world surrounds Santa, the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny (swear I saw him, once. He was creeping outside my bedroom door one Easter. He KNEW I was waiting up for him to hop in and was fake sleeping.).

Just you wait little girl. A whole world of magical mischief is only a few years away from rocking your bookshelf. You’ll spend many nights at the midnight book releases AND movie premieres. Just. You. Wait.

Not going to attempt to explain the plastic on my elbow rant up there. I was eight, give me a break.

PS: Who didn’t love Scooby Doo?

PSS: It took until high school to figure out Shaggy and Scooby were a couple of stoners.

PSSS: I wonder if my siblings ever knew I thought they were magic.

Dear Diary November 1997

It’s 1997 and so far, there isn’t one damn mention of Y2K, nothing about my collection of Beanie Babies, or my want of an Easy Bake Oven that Santa forgot to bring two years in a row! What the hell?

This purple plastered Garfield diary is making it rounds, so have faith. All the goods must be yet to come.

Quick recap: No sign of bus crush Neil or Best friend Alissa. I haven’t moved closer to The Big Apple yet, because I remember it happening after Christmas break. My TV crush is Danny and have discovered the holy grail movie, Grease.

Here is November 1997.

Nov. 11th 1997
Today Me Kelly, James rebilt
the Fire pit
and even we,
put the wood back.

Nov. 12 1997
every Day
I hug Mrs. Pike
I love her Because
she is nice, Buitful,
cool, loving, and caring.
Mrs. Pike is the
Best teach in the 
whole wide world.

Nov. 12th 1997
<3 Mrs. Pike <3

Nov. 12th 1997
Today it is 
snowing out.

Nov. 16th, 97
Today it just
snowed again and
even depper!
Cool!
I am going to make a
snowman. Cool!

[Dear Diary] It looks like I’ve graduated from pencil to red pen, cheers!

There I go again, capitalizing the ‘b’ in best, must’ve had a really strong inclination best was important as a child and should ALWAYS be emphasized.

Pretty sure depper is deeper, although for a short second I thought it might be Pepper – our first family dog. But that didn’t make any sense, context clues people.

I purposely didn’t write out teacher, I meant teach. For as long as I can remember I’ve had a knack at shortening words for the fun of it. I still do it to this day and have no idea why or how/when it started. It looks like I’ve been doing it since the beginning of time.

That damn fire pit.

One night the whole fam-bam was sitting around it when bats started to swoop down and when I say swoop, I mean Kamikaze swoop. Within seconds Mom is wrangling her three kids and hauling ass back into the house while Super Dad swings plastic patio chairs in the air.

Believe it or not there are two more hilarious bat stories in our family.

(1) Mom, Grandma, Grandma’s longtime boyfriend (get it Granny), my sister and brother and I, took a vacation up to boyfriend’s lake house on Lake Erie. Us kids were sharing the upstairs bedroom while Mom and Grandma shared the bed downstairs, boyfriend got the couch.

Us kids had just snuggled in to our beds for the night, and I was reading my book by the nightlight (I’ve always been a nerd) when one of my sibs started to scream. “Something came in through the window! Something came in through the window!”

I hadn’t heard anything as I was in deep with my Babysitter’s Club book, so I started to look around. One curtain shake a later, a bat came flying out and smacking into the walls. We all went downstairs screaming.

And while we all went downstairs screaming, Grandma’s boyfriend came flying up the stairs (in his underwear) with an empty cereal box and a broom. Not sure what he was going to accomplish with his items, but we laugh about it still to this day. The mental image of an old, sleepy bald man in his underwear, who is standing in the hall dazed and confused, with an empty cereal box and broom.

(2) The family was at Home Depot getting whatever families need at Home Depot for a weekend project. We were walking down the main aisle and my Dad was lagging a little bit farther behind.

I turned my head for whatever reason and see my Dad crouched low with his hand in a swatting motion, aimed in my direction. In my head I’m yelling out, “What the flip did I do now!? I didn’t do anything! We’re in public!”

Before I could remember what I was guilty for, he swatted at something behind me and a quick whoosh of air went up my side.

A flipping bat. A damn bat was hanging on the back side of my shorts and hadn’t even noticed. Super Dad to the rescue.

Knock on wood, this is the last near death encounter anyone in my family has had with bats.

PS: We lived in the middle of freaking nowhere; loads of bats slept in the woods behind our house. The corn fields though, they made excellent model rocket launch pads after harvest season. Dad would light the fuse and us kids would chase the rocket down, twirling in aimless circles trying to be the kid who caught it.

My family has three bat stories, what does your family have? Haha. Let me know about your crazy animal encounter in the comment section below.

Dear Diary September 1997

What else could be revealed in this week’s dose of preteen nostalgia? Let’s find out.

Quick recap: I’m very proud at the age I started walking, 9 months if you’ve forgotten. Alissa has made her regular pen-ins, but bus crush Neil has been increasingly absent and it can only mean one thing. I don’t love Neil anymore, what has the world come to?!

Here is September 1997.

Sept. 24, 1997
on
Fiuer it out.
And someone 
on there is
cute   his name is Danny.

Sept. 24, 1997(9?)
I have a 
cute guy
his name is
Denny
from Grease

Nov. 15, 1997
I am
moving
To New York
City!

Sept. 25, 1997
My poor bother
is sick! I feel
bad! but my mommy
is taking him
to school

[Dear Diary] I have sinned. I misspelled Danny Zuko’s name. Forgive me.

Mom wanted to go Grease Lightning on my ass after the six-hundredth ka-jillionith time of watching Grease. There are only so many times a girl can drool over John Travolta before losing her shit, sorry Mom!

Anyone else out there notorious for loving a good to-do list? The best part is checking off the tasks and probably explains all the jumbled-month diary entries. Just wanted to fill up my diary in a timely manner!

Fiuer it out has got to be Figure It Out? My husband and I just had a conversation about favorite 90s TV shows, otherwise I’m not sure I could’ve cracked the code. Plus, wasn’t there a Danny regular on the show?

Or was there a Danny from All That who was my hottie? Lawd, I’ll never know.

PS: Poor Moms, always being blamed. How’d you like that semi-passive aggressive blow to my Madre for taking my poor sick brother to school?

PSS: “I’m moving to New York city!” If only this kid knew it’d be the first of many “I’m moving to ______.” And it wasn’t New York City, it was a small town in Hudson Valley just outside New York City. Totally digging I have it documented though.

PSSS: I googled Danny. I’m pleased to say my memory has done gooooood. He was on both Figure It Out AND All That. I think I might be like-like him all over again, because who doesn’t love the Giants for ruining Tom Brady’s perfect season?

Dear Diary August 1997

The dedication I had to keep up with my diary writing is impressing my twenty something self. We’ve made it to August and I’m still plugging away, determined to fill each and every page.

Per last post, I’m currently smack dab in the middle of a love triangle within my own heart. Tom and Neil, Neil and Tom. Who knew it could be so complicated for a single-digit-aged kid? It’s hard out there for the bus crushes!

Quick recap: I’ve planned out dog names for my future self. One will be named Shep (can you guess where I got that one from? 10 cool points if you do!) and one named Lucky. Full disclosure: currently have two puppies, neither by the name of Shep or Lucky. My two rascals are dubbed Bella and Bailey, a.k.a. Bella Booski and Hurricane Bailey, or simply–da puppies.

I’m not editing any of the contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is August 1997.

Augist 18th 1997
Today I went 
to Alissa's house
and played baby
with Max it was
fun!

Aug. 19th 1997
Today paul, Dan
Ashly, Nicol, Key, paul came
over. Dan is 10 years old. Ashly is 2 years
old. Nicole is 8 months
old. Kyl is 6 years old. paul is 6 years
old.to. They are twins.
I was only 9 months
old when I started walking.

[Dear Diary] DONE is my go to word when I’m stressed and overworked. Considering this is me and I’m still me, I think I was DONE.

Well, August was a slow month…

But you got a complete rundown of each kid I played with on this day, future reporter? Nah, I went to journalism school and took the classes. It wasn’t the life for me. Mad respect for the reporters struggling, though.

Speaking of reporting, did anyone else take on an semi-unhealthy obsession with the movie Harriet The Spy? Oh. Mah. Gawd. Did I want to be Harriet. I begged for a marble notebook 3.2 milliseconds after the movie ended.

I’d sit behind our lounge chair, which was backed up a corner leaving ample triangular room for a kid to hide, and spy on family (pretty sure Mom knew, damn moms always knew).

13d4224cf46455c20c5aa2cd3a2fa574 — Swift and painful death

The label even had PRIVATE etched across the front, super official. It’s also possible I got a friend to do the infamous pen tattoo. We were so cool.

Do kids still play ‘baby’ anymore, or is that too gender specific now-a-days? I can’t explain my then fascination with pretending to be Mom, maybe it was because I loved the shit out of mine and mimicking her was the only way I knew how to flatter?

I defiantly don’t share the same sentiment at almost 28-years-old. Still not okay with how babies come out, can hardly afford to feed myself and not sure I’d fare well in Mom jeans. Maybe when I grow up.

Good to see I’m super humble, too. “I started walking at 9 months.” To be honest, I have no idea if that’s even true. Ya can’t trust an 8-year-old.

PS: Get your spelling together Shannon!

PSS: I have no idea who any of those peeps are or could’ve been.

PSSS: George Of The Jungle (Brendan Fraser). The elephant (dog)’s name was …. Shep!

What was your favorite movie growing up, or who did you want to emulate so badly it hurt? Let me know in the comment section!

Dear Diary July 1997

There’s a slight chance I’m still embarrassed about outing my competitiveness at such an early age, but I’ve come back to share some more! Hopefully you haven’t hit the snooze button yet.

Quick recap: I think Neil is still my bus crush, no clue where Alissa has been. I most definitely out fished my brother and jotted down some good fatherly wisdom.

My entries are growing farther apart, as I assume my need to jot down every thought I had the moment I had it grew exhausting, but who knows. I thought my sign off was ‘Love Shannon,’ but apparently that got old after a few months, too.

If you’re new and have no idea what I’m talking about: I’ve recently discovered all of my old diaries, journals (not sure of the difference, maybe maturity?) slam books and old high school notes. I’m sharing them here for everyone’s enjoyment.

I’m not editing any of the contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is July 1997.

July 20th 1997
today it was my
Brother and Sister
and me at the theatre! 

July 20th 1997
When I grow
up and when I get a Dog I will name 
it Shep. and
when it dieds
I will get another
dog    I will 
name it lucky!

July 27, 1997
Today my friend
Alissa has a very
lose tooth!

July 27th, 1997
Tom loves
Me!

[empty]
Done

[empty]
I love
Neil!

Ah-yes, the tooth fairy. How could I forget?! My tooth fairy had a name and I wrote her letters. For the life of me I can’t remember what her name was, I used to ask her all sorts of questions.

Where did she live? Was her house made out of teeth? Was that sanitary? Did she like being a tooth fairy? Could she draw me a picture of what it looked like where she lived?

HER NAME WAS MOONLIGHT!

I used to ask the other kids if their tooth fairy was Moonlight, too. Needless to say I never found another kid who shared the same tooth fairy.

Neil was almost a goner, but he crept right back in there at the end. Poor Tom though, he didn’t stand a chance against bus crush Neil. It does say Tom, right? Maybe Tom was my codename for Neil.

PS: I was going to breeze past the awkward naming of dogs and death bit, but something struck me. This has to be the only time in my life I was able to speak (write) about death without an ensuing panic attack to follow. It’s odd (but not) how simple your mind is when you’re younger. I say death so matter-of-factly without knowing its finality.

PSS: Who the hell is Tom? Tom, are you out there? Do you remember me?

Did your tooth fairy have a name? I still must know! Let me know in the comment section below!

Dear Diary June 1997

We’ve technically gotten into a new month on the last post, but it’s officially official this time around.

Quick recap: I’m still crushing hard on my bus crush, Neil. Alissa is my Best friend and hasn’t lost the capital B status, yet. They are both cool and fun. I root for the Chicago Bulls and don’t want Neil to know about it.

I’m showing off my cool numbering skills in the date line and can’t ever end an entry without Love Shannon. It’s important to let oneself know where the diary entry ends, dontcha know.

What will June bring for my tiny 8-year-old self? Why don’t we find out together. I’m not editing any contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is June 1997.

June 17, 
Kelly cought 
her First Fish! 

June 17, 
I cought 
a Fish
to. 

June 17, 
Mom cought 
her First
Fish to. 

June 17, 
Dad cought
two Fish. 

June 17,
James
cough zero
Fish. It is
o.k.
James

July 2nd 1997
My Daddy seid
a Bad Day
of fishing is
Better then a
good Day at
work

[Dear Diary] It took three tries before nailing down my Dad’s life lesson. If anything, at least I’m thorough.

Way to be a show off, Dad. Two fish?!

Who else enjoys my running tally of caught fish and wanting to remember my little brother caught NONE? How about that little piece of wisdom from my Pops? Super Dad-like.

My Dad’s still good for life quips and I’m still notorious for being a smidgen competitive. To this day I’m embarrassingly proud of the fond memory I have with Dad and brother at the golf course.

At the end of the day my golf score stayed below the triple digits, James’ did not … love you little brother! It’s a shame you can’t see my beat red face smeared with a grin from ear to ear right now, I’m terrible.

Ps: What I wouldn’t give to be out on a lake somewhere again with my Dad and brother. It’s weird, you spend so much time with your family growing up and then all of a sudden, you haven’t lived in the same state for almost a decade and a random text every few months or years is all ya get.

Got any sibling rivalry you want to share, extra cool points if its embarrassing! Share them with me in the comment section.