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The adventures and struggles of a petite, geeky journalist-in-training living in New Zealand.
I’ve always felt that there was something inherently stylish about notebooks and journals. They harken back to a time before digital technology, when it was commonplace to see wet glistening flowing script emerging from the tip of a fountain pen. There is something very romantic about handwriting, the smell of paper and the sound of a nib scratching its surface.
This journal was given to me by my best friend. It is a thing of incredible beauty, with a genuine leather cover featuring a Celtic cross (I love Celtic things) and pages of handmade paper. I’ve been hesitant about using it because I was afraid of ruining the pages. For now, it sits on my shelf and is taken down every now and then to be admired. I will use it someday, though. What is a notebook without words?
Look at the sign four down and five across. That pretty much helped me decide whether I wanted to buy this or not. That, and the price.