OddThinking

On Sunday, while looking for something else, I stumbled across a journal that I kept for six weeks in 1991. Journals are a lot like blogs; you write in them regularly for a while until you don’t, and no-one else reads them but you.

It covered a period when I first traveled to Sweden. It was written to help me remember what it was like to be alone in a foreign country for the first time. That’s a bit sad, because, at the point that I discovered it, I had absolutely no recollection that it even existed (Errr.. the journal, I mean, not Sweden.)

So, what did I discover about my twenty-year-old self?

God, he was boring!

Why was he so fascinated with what he cooked, what he watched on TV, and how he managed to withdraw the (equivalent of) $20 from the bank. Who cares?

2 Jun 1991

Clean up today. Watched Hollywood Bowl on Filmnet [Filmnet = Cable TV station.]

Napoli sauce with microwaved rice. Nice!

Shoot me/him now!

Where are the stories? Where is the intrigue? Where are the exciting experiences of living abroad?

Oh, and I get it. He missed his girlfriend. That’s a great hook, but don’t waste the human interest angle by merely chronicling every letter and phone call made and received! It just gets boring.

It’s not like nothing was happening. He had a short jaunt over to Finland by ship. Seven of his friends took this exotic cruise, into a foreign land. What did he have to say for himself at the end of the first day of travel?

14 Jun 1991
Went to Helsinki in huge ferry only 3 weeks old.
[.. list of the people who went…]

(Fortunately, the next day’s entry about Helsinki was slightly more loquacious.)

The experiences were actually happening around him, he just wasn’t aware enough to write them down.

People who sit still enough to listen to my stories know about my theory of Swedish flagpoles, the poor king who lost his hat, and why Swedish bakers always send cookies to the palace at Christmas time. All of these tall stories come from one boat trip to Viggsö Island. It was a rich vein of memories for me. However, you wouldn’t know to read the diary. Nary one is mentioned in the diary entry for that day.

The saddest part is that sometimes you can see the vestiges of what became much better stories.

21 May 1991
Got hopelessly lost on way to work. First turn I took was wrong. Was beeped at by bus at traffic light. Turned out to be one way street where opposite direction was bus lane only! I had done a U-turn though.

Sound familiar? (At least it turns out my memory was clear!)

The diary has “Dag för Dag” printed on the front. If you translate that from Swedish, it translates to “day by day”. I think the original text is closer to the mark.