Like a long, lost friend.

I have a tendency to collect things. Not sure if I've ever really talked about it before. My dad collects quite a few things such as spoons, coins, Christmas Nativities, etc. Have I ever mentioned that I collect journals? I know that I've talked about it here a bit, but I guess I never really came out and said it.

Reader, I collect journals. there.

As most of you do know, I travel a fair amount. When I started traveling in college, I decided that I should start collecting journals from cool places that I go. I have some really cool journals from Europe that I haven't even written in yet. Since my stash has gotten pretty extensive over the years I've started collecting these, but I digress.

One of my favorite things to do is read old journal entries. I find that when I go back, I'm super emotional in my journal writing. In that way, its a huge outlet for me. If I'm having a hard day and I write about it in my journal, the pages just suck the bad emotion right into them and it goes out of me. Hallelujah for journal writing.

In May of 2002, I went to Italy for two weeks with Matt and Beverly. I knew that what I really wanted to buy for myself on that trip was an awesome journal. The second or third day of our trip we were in Florence. I found an awesome journal. I thought to myself: "Self, you are going to so many amazing cities in the next two weeks that I bet you could find one that is even more awesome than this." We continued on to cities like Pisa, Venice, Napoli, Palermo, Rome, and Assisi. Did I even see another journal on the entire trip? Of course not. I could have cried when I knew that I would be leaving Italy without a cool journal in my paws. The journal that I coulda-shoulda-woulda bought was sitting on the shelf of a cute little shop in Florence without me.
Years went by and I thought about it often. In fact, I even mentioned it in some of my blog posts here and here. Someone tried to buy me a leather journal once in Florence in the summer of 2003 and while I was grateful for the effort, it wasn't exactly what I wanted.

What a coincidence that my home teacher is from Florence, Italy. Last month he went home for a few weeks, so I sat him down before he left and even drew a picture of the journal that I saw five years ago. Obsessed, yes; but...I know what I want.

Boy was I happy when Andrea sent me this picture. A few days after he got home from Italy, he brought me the most beautifully wrapped present and inside, I found this:
That's my thumb, by the way. I LOVE it. Almost as much as I love this one. I know, I know...I've been wanting the Italian one for years...but the other one is hand-made by one of my BFFs. Thank you Andrea! You're a nade.