Today I did some temp work at an educational company that makes college textbooks. With little to do, and no internet access I decided to leaf through one of the textbooks. Here is an excerpt from 'College Writers':

"Journal writing suffers when you let someone, in your mind, look over your shoulder. Honesty wilts when a parent, teacher, or friend looms up in your imagination to discourage you from putting your true thoughts on the page. Keep your notebooks with the abandon of one who will know his words will go up in smoke."

As a teenager I was very careful to keep my journals out of view knowing that people in my family had a penchant for snooping. I would only use a hiding place in my bedroom for about a month before paranoia would set in, forcing me to find another hiding place. At the time it seemed genius so I wasn't hesitant to write with the abandon of one who knows her words will go up in smoke. In one journal I mentioned that I wanted to be buried with my journals so no one would ever see them.

On my 22nd birthday my Grandma had the family over for dinner. My gift from her was a blank journal. I thanked her and she mentioned that she knew how much I liked to journal in the past. This led to a very frank conversation with my aunts. They revealed to me that not only did my grandmother read every single page of my journal when I left for school each day; she would call Julie, Peggy, and Beth and read it to them.

I decided some time ago that I'd rather be cremated than buried. Maybe when that day comes someone will toss my journals in with me and we can go up in smoke together.

But before that happens, I'll be sharing some of my journal entries to a room full of strangers in a show called Mortified. If you'd like to come and watch me sweat my way through it please feel free.

www.getmortified.com