I’ve never been a diligent journal keeper, although over the years I’ve made several half-hearted attempts. I kept travel journals during trips, started a gratitude journal at Oprah’s insistence, which was short lived due to the fact I had far too much attitude and not enough gratitude, (that has since changed, thank God) but once I actually managed to keep a journal for an entire year. Enter 2000.
Recently, I stumbled upon this journal while cleaning out my closet, which lead to an evening of laughter, cringe inducing moments and a little reflection. The passages run the gamut from hysterical to heart-felt, raw to ridiculous. Every topic is covered from family and friends, to my coming out process, to ramblings about feeling lost and lonely, to career dreams and desires, to dating or the lack there of. The first page I flipped to - February 5th, 2000.
This particular entry features names of men I barely know – like No-Chin Craig (obviously a nickname) and Don, simply described as “an old queen.” I have no clue who the later is, but according to my journal we only spoke on the phone. (I remember all my tricks, thank you very much!)
Then I reveal how devastated I felt after giving my phone number to Matthew, an adorable check-out boy at Pavilions, and then never hearing from him. Now, Matthew I remember well. We would cruise each other like crazy every time I was grocery shopping. We’d flash a few coy smiles, occasionally make small talk, and totally flirt – it was totally fun. And according to my journal, I was totally obsessed:
“I so wanted him to call me, and obsessed over it for days. Everyday coming home and checking the answering machine. Every time the phone rang, my heart skipped a beat – why? For a boy I barely know who works in the grocery store? I thought for sure he would call, and now that he didn’t I feel like a complete ass.”
I was 28 years-old then, I guess it comes with the territory. Matthew was adorable, but also a douche for not calling. After that, I never used his check-out aisle again. And now, I can’t stop laughing at how absurd it is that I once thought I could find love at the check-out stand.