(as if I've been really blogging a lot lately...)

My Research professor (whom I currently love) has suggested to a couple classmates of mine, and to the rest of the class in general, to keep a journal for our research work. There are so many things we discover when we do research, but we don't get them all down right away and some things get lost in the process.

This reminds me of college and I was taking a choreography seminar under this girl from the States, an American-Filipina named Christine. She encouraged us to keep journals of creativity, to write down any ideas that we could use in our choreography. I still have my choreography journal of that period, it recorded my thoughts while making the dance of this piece for a friend's composition recital. Strangely, I don't think I'd be needing the stuff I had written down there. I can use more stuff from the journals I keep, both online and off, where I write about my life.

When I killed my previous blog Joelle So Far aka http://jete.blogspot.com, I had decided not to make it disappear entirely and put it together in book form to give to some of my friends (the ones who'd want a copy). Reading through the old entries, I found a lot of things that I had forgotten - some trivial, some quite important. This is what journals are for, academic or otherwise. There's a lot I had learned and a lot I could still stand to relearn and remember. Journals chronicle these important discoveries and should keep you from forgetting. They also remind you what you've done the last few years. I may not be a controversial moviestar or President, but my life is interesting. According to my blog, that is.

I have a dozen or so journals in existence. A lot of them are useless whiny drabble, but they have their moments. A bunch of years ago, when Mayo and I had become super buddies, I had texted him, "May! I read my journal when we were together and I was so in love with you, ang gross!!!" And he indignantly replied, "What was so gross?" When I think of the things I chose to write about, I feel that I should have written more about things, I should have written about more things. I've been actually thinking maybe I should burn them when I'm around sixty or so.

But then, you'll still have this blog. A little bit less whiny and about more things than my offline journals. I can't burn it but deleting it is possible. If it manages to survive centuries, I wonder what people will think when they read it. "Oh so that's how it was in the 2000s... Their pointe shoes were already made of fibreglass but they can't fly yet, can they? What the hell are laptops?"

Okay, I'm babbling on and on again. My point is I have to stop babbling (how ironic) about things that I cannot use, things that make me feel bad. While blogging has proven to be a useful outlet for when I'm upset, I realize I should do this in my offline journals (the ones that I eventually plan to burn) and save my online space for stuff that are worth reading. Self-improvement and reflection should be entertaining. If not, don't post your thoughts online, then. I'm just saying.

I can say though that blogging and writing in my journal has been good for me. As my Research prof says, writing in a journal is very personal. The part I like there is the me. Me Me Me. My thoughts, my feelings, my reactions. My going on and on and on. Sure, it may border on whiny and useless, but better here than while interviewing somebody for a racket. This article I'm writing is about me. While I would have wanted to turn the interview into conversation, I'm glad I am able to stop myself by quickly thinking, "Save it for the Sleepyhouse."

Okay, enough romanticized bs. Back to our regular programming.