so you wanna be a writer, eh?

no, i don't. but i wanna be a blogger. a good one. and blogging makes me like to write. for years i wrote in journals. from middle school through college graduation. then i fell in love and i stopped. why is it that i stopped journaling once i had a lot less to whine about? what's up with that? seems backwards, doesn't it?

i recently came across three old journals in the top of my childhood closet and took them home with me to read for a trip down memory lane. i read about 5 pages and i had to stop! what i worried about as a 16 year old seems so ridiculous now. apparently all i cared to talk about was boys. i loved boys. boys were stupid. does he like me? what a jerk! i'll never find someone. how dare he do that to my friend? i think it's love.

wake up, teenage cortney! it's not love. i cross my heart, hope to die. man, if i could sit that girl down and talk to her today. reminds me of this post written by one of the jewels of blogland. what would your letter say? mine would say something along the lines of chill out.

blogging has replaced journaling. i am not a writer, but it appears that i like to write.

now i'll leave you with a few things that make me smile:

  • chris was once matt foley for halloween (on the far right, pictured with a dip shit, a pot head, and that guy from nightmare before christmas). he does one helluva chris farley impersonation.
  • i am really loving all things suzani, especially from wisteria.
  • could someone please loan (*give*) me $2999.00 for this bad boy? (also from wisteria.


big boy's nap time is coming to a close. so enough journaling/writing/blogging for now. (and back to obsessing about followers and comments :)


  1. i am that blog nerd you speak of. how exciting!

  2. I am loving reading your posts, even if I'm not always commenting. I hear your voice in your writing and love it! Keep them coming!!

  3. Man, I hear ya about the journaling. With moving, I've gone through so much...STUFF...and deciding what to toss, what to keep. But journals. Not only do I treasure them, but I can't look at them without opening (knowing that I shouldn't) and losing hours of my time.... It's so hard to get past the sheer stupidity and shallow musings of the 15 year old you...but in fighting through it, I've found the one or two lines within every 15 or so pages that make me want to journal again. Buried within musings about that one certain HS boyfriend and how i was "sooo in love" i found a note to my 16 year old self to "write a card to Emily Wilson: Love/Friendship/Support/Birthday" Why support? I don't know, but at the time it was important and it's good to know that 16 year old Sarah saw that in the midst of her shallow-ness :) And I wrote about when my Grandma died, and my moms feelings, and my own feelings, and what it was like being at her house without her, surrounded by my family...I could hardly read through those pages. But I cherish those memories because I had forgotten so many minute details that were recorded in a sleepy daze one night after volleyball and before church... And here I am, on adventures of a lifetime, happily married, traveling, moving, surrounded by friends...and do I write? Nope. Somewhere along the way we decided that journaling meant drama and sadness...so when the happiness is here, the journal goes. Maybe I'll bring it back. Maybe.

  4. you could blog, my friend. you would be fantastic.