Even though today is a Monday, it feels like a Sunday. I woke up late, enjoyed 2 cups of cinnamon coffee, caught up with some friends and family, went to the gym, came home and cooked. It also probably didn’t help/hurt that I spent last night with Steve, Meredith, two bottles of wine and a cup of peanut butter chocolate frozen yogurt. 
As I was chilling on the couch watching House Hunters and waiting for the pot roast to finish, I decided to browse through some of my old diaries. I admit that since I started blogging more regularly, I have been neglecting my diary-writing a bit. But even though I really love blogging, especially for the way it allows me to connect with others, there are still some things that are too private or personal to write about on the internet. Or, at least that’s my opinion. And back in the day when I still had dial-up, I didn’t even know what blogging was.
It was so interesting reading things that I’d written when I was 23, 24 years old. There were mentions of people that I have no idea who they were. There are detailed descriptions of interactions that I have only vague memories of now, 5 or 6 years later. It reminded me that although sometimes I do think it would be nice to be 25 again, the person I am today is made up of all the experiences, moments, laughter and tears that I’ve accumulated up til now.
Came across your blog randomly. Just had to comment. Try reading something you wrote in high school or middle schools. It’s a very weird feeling. Especially when you think about how one day you’ll look back on your blogging now and you’ll wonder the same things.
Really nice post. I just go through it. Thank you for sharing.