The Moleskine Club

I am proud to announce that I have finally purchased my first moleskine journal. Technically, I purchased two in two shades of pink.

You know what they say “All great writers have a moleskin”. “They” being the owners of moleskin, of course. The “manual” that came with my Moleskine says “The Moleskine notebook is the heir and successor to the legendary notebook used by artists and thinkers over the past two centuries: among them Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemingway and Bruce Chatwin”. This must make me a great writer. In turn I am officially inducted into the cool kids club, population 2, Hemingway and myself. Which brings me to my next point. I haven’t always been cool.

In 6th grade I entered my prime awkward years. I had five friends and lived off of Harry Potter. No shame here. I will always love Harry Potter, especially Neville- have you seen him lately?

In the middle of 6th grade I decided it was an excellent idea to take home the pet rats from my English class. For whatever reason I thought it would be really cool. It was not. I don’t like rats. Or rodents. The long scaly tails and red eyes gave me nightmares and my mother was not too pleased to find out we had new houseguests. Somehow I became the “girl with the pet rats”. I’m wiling to bet everyone forgot about it in a few days, no one cares about the random girl with 5 friends.

High school was excellent. Believe it or not I WAS COOL. I had friends, a job and a boyfriend. The moment I knew I was cool: the moment I had more than 5 friends. That’s all you need. Find yourself 6 friends and a Moleskine and you’ll have it made. Promise.