The 19-year-old version of me was something else.

That was my initial thought as a flipped through the very first journal entries I wrote back in 2004.

Dreamy, wistful, and frustrated are how I would describe the younger me.

With the hindsight of nearly two decades and large helping of worldly experience, it's easier for me to reflect on the overall vibe of young Keith from reviewing those early snapshots in time.

No going home

"I was back on the couch again and uncomfortable as ever my legs didn't fit on the couch."

For some reason, this first line from May 22, 2004 jumped out at me. Why?

It was a first and a last.

It was my first journal entry in my childhood home (the cathedral) I ever wrote.

It was also the last summer I would spend in that house. Mom moved to her new home later that year.

Zooming out from the details of my day-to-day thoughts a few things became apparent to me.

1. Even back then I was a social chameleon able to shift -unknowingly- between unrelated and unconnected groups

2. I was frustrated my family wasn't closer

3. I was a good writer

Here's me describing a river tubing trip that went bad when the weather changed suddenly. ('tubing' is what we call floating down a river in innertubes. usually with an ice chest and other random things in tow)

"We floated and relaxed our down half of the river until a harsh thunderstorm broke out. Torrential rain, thunder, lightning, hard wind, even hail were included in the storm's barrage...When we got out of the river the first time I slipped on the muddy bank of the river. I also had to pull up the innertube with the group's ice chest in it. In the end we got out of the river twice because of the hail. Hail hurts!"

Not a bad little story.

More observations to come.