January 10

I’ll Pay in Monthly Nickel Installments

It has been a long time in the making, but the original Pink Sparkly Notebook, the 75-cent assemblage of paper bound between glitter-drowned, magenta plastic covers, has been surreptitiously filled with my poignant, albeit cliche and whiny, account of 2014.

So now, it is time again for me to stroll into the nearest Dollar Giant or Shoppers Drug Mart, find the best and brightest high-school dropout, and explain:

“I’m in the market for an extremely gaudy notebook. Pink is obviously a non-negotiable- but leopard print is also a huge selling point, faux fur highly encouraged. I’m willing to offer double your retail price for something that smells like cotton candy, or plastic. You guys sell glitter here, right?”

^ All this to continue the brand.

For those who have not read my first post, Hot Pink, and Sparkly, in which I explain my risky, if not entirely godawful, choice of domain name, I will simply state that I fell prey to a sensation known for making asses out of so many others from Generation Z: I was trying to be ironic. 

But though I’m not crazy about the stereotypical facet of teenage diary-keeping, I would highly recommend to anyone, especially to someone as emotionally mangled as me, that he/she keep a journal. I have always been quite utilitarian, so the biggest draw for me is the writing experience gained from such constant practice. The more I blog, and the more I jot down in a journal, the easier it becomes to articulate my complex thoughts and ideas. I’ve found that this has improved my academic performance as well as my ability to communicate in relationships. But in a more touchy-feely way, it also helps with my anxiety and stress, and with understanding and sorting through my feelings in a healthy, non-disruptive way. Even when I’m not feeling stressed or conflicted, journaling helps me to become proactive about my own happiness by allowing me to recognize patterns in my thoughts and behaviours that could be harmful if left unsupervised. It also helps me to understand myself better, which is invaluable for when I’m trying to make major life decisions.

I went to therapy for a binge-eating disorder a few months ago, where they overwhelmed me with written techniques to “affirm” and “enlighten” and “empower”, but I found the only way that I could follow through with any of it was by sneaking it into my regular journaling; hiding affirmations in something I will actually read is like putting my medicine in a massive glob of peanut butter. And who doesn’t like peanut butter?

Not someone with a binge eating disorder, that’s for sure!

Bye for now,



Copyright © 2014. All rights reserved.

Posted January 10, 2015 by Avery in category "Uncategorized


  1. By April on

    For the record, we are all emotionally mangled. :) Some of us just hide it better than others, and some are so deep in denial that it will eventually explode (not that I’m wishing bad things on anybody. I’m not. It’s just something I’ve watched play out so many times: eventually, the truth comes out).

    This kind of ties in: I’ve learned that a lot of people don’t have it together as much as it seems. I was recently telling a friend about my older sister. J was always talking me down from my childhood fears. There aren’t monsters in the closet. There’s nothing in the dark to be afraid of.

    When our dad died, J was the first one to go back to our childhood home to clean up. Imagine my surprise and amusement when I arrived a few days later and found out that she had been sleeping on the couch. The reason? It was too spooky to sleep in any of the bedrooms. hahaha

    I think I kind of rambled off topic. I’m going to go and have a snack. TTFN!
    April recently posted…6 a.m. is not early enough/Let’s Do This, 2015 (Part Three)My Profile

  2. By Wide-eyed on

    I hadn’t been around your blog for a while courtesy exams and school etc etc but god had I missed this. I, too, have fallen victim to a misguided attempt at sarcasm and irony when it comes to blog urls. It’s not fun.


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