J.O.U.S.

I am in possession of a J.O.U.S. Curious as to what this initialism refers to? Here's an image of this species:

This is my Journal Of Unusual Size. (If you don't get the reference, go watch the film Princess Bride right now. Seriously.) Most journals do not morph into J.O.U.S.'s; but, with years of love, a tendency to keep every scrap of paper and a strange relaxation technique (cutting and taping), one can breed all sorts of J.O.U.S.'s.

My journal didn't always look like this. I wish I had a picture of the original... striped purple plastic cover. Today, both the back and the front cover have fallen off. The first few pages are even starting to fall out. The blank white cover is empty, except for a small addition I made about three to four years ago.

It reads: Passion -- A collection of me. My hopes, my dreams, my loves, my fears, my insecurities, my longings. A collection of my soul and who I am.

Which is incredibly corny and sappy. I wrote that blurb during sophomore year of high school, so that explains its ridiculousness. Such an embarrassingly melodramatic time in my life.

I received this journal as a gift in eighth grade and used it to chronicle my exceptional nerdiness. The first five or six pages contain images, newspaper clippings, stickers, quotes and anything else involving Lord of the Rings and Star Wars.

I even started writing Star Wars fan-fiction about Boba Fett and a spurned lover/bounty hunter character that I created. Such a nerd. No one is ever reading that. Ever.

The following pages make their way through my various phases and interest. The Outsiders pages. The Pride and Prejudice pages. The His Dark Materials pages. The Eragon and romantic and Charles Dickens and Jane Austen pages. Many song lyrics and quotes are written among the images. As well as interesting looking candy wrappers, photographs and movie ticket stubs.

A change in style and content occurs after a couple years into the journal. There are more collage-like pages, less about interests and more about images I like, pictures that go well together, and various undertakings.

Camp, family runs, IYC 2007, volunteering in the library, Malawi, various Valentine's days, interesting newspaper clippings, tags, bookmarks, stickers, candy wrappers, a piece of my favorite sweatshirt, cards, recipes, cats, a list of my favorite male fictional characters, Reese's. I counted how many times Reese's came up throughout the entire journal; there was an excessive amount of chocolate-peanut buttery references. Post cards, notes from friends, flyers, tickets, small bits of writing, traveling, etc.

There's even a Pomegranate Page. I started collecting wrappers that had anything to do with pomegranates (because I am obsessed) and put them all on a page together:

Every page of my J.O.U.S. is chock full of ("chock full"? Does anyone even say that? Apparently I do. Sorry... random, unedited thought.) memories. Every scrap a moment, a person, a day. The journal is a lovely and honest representation of the last six years of my life. This week I finally filled the entire journal. Which is good, because it might have exploded.

Like the end of most good things, there was a touch of sadness when I finished the very last page. A bit of fear too because I no longer have a place to put all the pieces of paper and scraps I collect.

But mostly there was joy. The end of one journal always means it's time for a new journal. Perhaps even a baby J.O.U.S.