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welcome back, me.
recent chats with an old lj friend has made me wistful for my own old journal, which i hastily deleted many months ago. i really wish i hadn't; of course if i'm nostalgic i can dig up my many attempts at keeping an journal, but entries are all over the place...torn out pages stuck in notebooks, half completed entries with dangling sentences. i was much better at keeping this 'cause i'm lazy and my hands don't tire out as quickly.

and i am very much the nostalgic type. ever since i was little, i would scribble on books of mine; "kendra was here!! 5th grade, almost in middle school! woo hoo!" all the way up til now cause i still do it. i like seeing those little notes to myself.

so let's see, right now...i am 23 years old. 24 in october, and i never thought i would be so terrified to be inching closer and closer to 30. i guess because it always used to seem so far away. i'm in school and i've decided i want to teach art to little ones. not exactly a financially lucrative career choice, but oh well. hair's in a ponytail. flip flops are dangling from my feet, and i'm wearing what i like to call my hackin' clothes. gray jogging shorts, and nondescript purple t-shirt with a horizontal bleach stain on the chest. i think i was doing laundry one day and i had to lean in to grab a lone sock. i have many shirts like this.


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