Sometimes, my dear queer diarists, you are fortunate enough to go on a vacation. These occasions, I know, are sadly few and far between. Even fewer and far betweener are the occasions on which we are cast adrift without the comforting cocoon of the internet — clutching our journals hopefully and praying that we find our ways without the help of our friend Google maps.
Such have been the last few weeks in Dear Queer Diary-land, my fearless readers — hence the long silence from these parts. I hope that your journals have been filling themselves with brilliant thoughts in the intervening period.
As I suspected as I packed up my Moleskines in preparation for this trip, my own pages have remained fairly empty, but for a few games of tic-tac-toe (my favorite feature of the signature AS notebook) and some smeary recollections penned in my very worst train handwriting — which, I have learned, is only moderately more legible than what I attempt to write with my non-dominant hand.
Other recent additions to my notebook include the guest list for an apartment-warming party my girlfriend and I planned on one of the aforementioned train rides and an exhaustive chart of who will receive which of the seven million postcards I have not been able to prevent myself from buying.
In addition to filling the inside of my journal, I have also taken a few choice opportunities to document the outside of it, in the style of the immortal Flat Stanley and his ilk.
I shall no doubt have more to say upon my full return to the World Wide Web, but in the meantime, keep journaling as queerly and dearly as possible. Do you have upcoming summertime adventures you will be able to document?
Dear Queer Diary is a column about the joys (and occasionally, the pains) of journaling. We crack open our tiny notebooks and break out the rainbow-colored pens on the regular, so get ready to limber up your writing hands and document all your beautiful feelings!
Header by Rory Midhani