I was over at Bumblebee Sweet Potato today - this is one of the blogs I read because I wish I could write like that, and also because I think I might could write like that if I just put more time and thought into it, which means maybe someday I will. When I don't have to hustle so much, like. Not only that, I really, really admire her politics, especially how she gets out there and lives them instead of staying home and thinking them and making excuses, which is what I do.
So anyway, she has this entry called "why we write", which mentions teenage journals and which prompted me to comment that reading my teenage journals makes me cringe. That's exactly the word I used, cringe. And then, almost the next thing I did (the very next thing was to go to Crouching Mommy, Hidden Laundry and see that there was nothing new since yesterday, but the next thing I did after that) was find this via Dooce, and lo! There in the sidebar! The very. same. word.
Perhaps the universe speaks to us through coincidences. Maybe, instead of boring you with Eurovision trivia, I should out some of my teenaged self-absorption (it really is a miracle, and possibly proof of the existence of God, that I didn't actually implode - that's how self-absorbed I was) for you all to laugh at. Hm.
Or maybe I'll just pretend that the mildew ate my journals, since they've been stored in the basement for three years. Actually, I haven't looked at them lately, so that could be true.