{"id":2487,"date":"2015-03-02T09:27:27","date_gmt":"2015-03-02T08:27:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=2487"},"modified":"2024-08-27T08:03:44","modified_gmt":"2024-08-27T06:03:44","slug":"changing-of-the-guards","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=2487","title":{"rendered":"Changing of the Guards"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"20150302_083806\"<\/a>I am on the couch jotting notes in my notebook on my lap desk. It’s Sunday, the lazy day. I sharpen the pencil as my notes full up the page and I near the bottom. It’s as though I am hesitant. When I get to the end of the page I turn it and wipe a tear from my eye.<\/p>\n

This notebook is filled.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s time to crack a new one.<\/p>\n

The changing of the guards is about to begin.<\/p>\n

Notebooks are a part of my daily life, and I refuse to simply discard a filled one. I carry around each notebook for months. It\u2019s gone to pubs and meetings with me, it\u2019s been the recipient of my most embarrassing rants and crappiest tripe. But it never tells; a good notebook keeps secrets. It is my therapist, my friend, my brainstorming partner, my shopping assistant.<\/p>\n

It takes in everything I have to get out of my system and it does it all without judgment.<\/p>\n

Nothing fits my hand more comfortably than carrying a broken-in notebook. There\u2019s the satisfying thud on a tabletop when I flip it open, the heaviness of the pages when they\u2019ve been written in. The way it lies open flat and conforms to my writing style. Though I use my tablet for some notes, I could never give up writing in a notebook.<\/p>\n

The ceremony has begun: put the old to rest, bring in the new. I sit them on the desk, the B Monster and I observe a moment of silence. I have a shot of scotch as a forty proof salute. I close the notebook and put it with the others on the notebook shelf. I rub its spine one last time.<\/p>\n

I try not to get too sentimental, because now it\u2019s time to bring in the new. The plastic is stripped and the spine broken. I jot my name and the reward one gets for returning it should it be lost \u2013 heartfelt gratitude and one Becherovka. A new notebook holds possibilities \u2013 what will end up in this notebook? The idea for another novel, blog posts, love letters. Also, I put careful consideration into the style of the new notebook. I want to go larger, smaller, a different color, a different brand. I\u2019ve heard good things about Piccadilly\u2019s paper quality, this one has a nice string, that one has a pocket for papers in the back.<\/em><\/p>\n

It\u2019s sort of the nerd equivalent of deciding to date someone completely different from your most recent ex. I am snapped out of my sentimental revelry and prepare to write the inaugural note.<\/p>\n

So, why the pomp and circumstance over a measly notebook?<\/p>\n

It’s exciting to open something new. Whether it’s cracking the spine on a new notebook or peeling the plastic off of a new phone screen. I attain an inappropriate level of joy from slipping my feet onto brand new Dr Scholl’s sole inserts. Maybe it’s because opening something new means completing something else. There’s a sense of accomplishment. A filled notebook means months of writing, a tattered pair of running shoes means months of running.<\/p>\n

The first note in the new notebook commemorates the retirement of the old one. The second is to pick up new sole inserts.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I am on the couch jotting notes in my notebook on my lap desk. It’s Sunday, the lazy day. I sharpen the pencil as my notes full up the page and I near the bottom. It’s as though I am hesitant. When I get to the end of the page I turn it and wipe […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2487","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1EvEu-E7","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2487","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2487"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2487\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2490,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2487\/revisions\/2490"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2487"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2487"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2487"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}