I’m a sucker for notebooks. Not the spiral bound, 70 pagers that you pick up at Shaws or Wal-Mart in your frantic back-to-school shopping, but a real, archival quality paper, beautifully bound notebook.
These, unfortunately sometimes with the word “Journal” sprawled across the cover, are my favorite things to write on. Yes, I know a cheap spiral bound college ruled notebook would do just fine, and they have. There’s something special about writing on good quality paper.
When I was in Italy in April 2007 (has it really been that long?), the first thing I bought while I was there was a leather bound notebook. That was the only souvenier that I knew I needed to have. I’ve filled it, but writing on its pages brought me back to Florence and Rome.
My current notebook was a gift from my grandma. It’s red with faux gold foil on the cover. The paper is thick so the ink from my pen doesn’t run through (except when I accidentally fell asleep while writing. There’s a big ink spot going through four pages. Oh well, that adds character.
At Christmas, my parents gave me a beautiful notebook, also from Italy, that’s yellow with pink and blue flowers with gold vines all over it. I’m looking at it right now and smiling.
The thing about these notebooks is they hold specific memories of when I received them. Those spiral bound notebooks do not. They are boring, identical in every way. Plus, those spirals get caught in everything.