Well, if I let a whole year lapse between posts, that'd be downright lazy, so here's a random update.
I have, in the last few months, rediscovered that I might still have some residual writing talent left over from my (long ago) days as an angsty teenage fanfic writer. I've started writing random snapshots of things, instead of journaling my own life, but I can't decide if it's worth the effort or not. With no plot, no direction and no real point, I'm collecting a huge mass of words that I have no intention of sharing with anyone. Except a close friend, who assured me it's not crap (I was kinda desperate for approval and mortified that she can probably extrapolate how weird I am from two pages of drivel).
At any rate, it's keeping me quiet.
Thing is, my hobbies tend to go in a very rigid cycle: discovery, interest, OHMYGODIAMOBSESSEDTHISISMYENTIRELIFE, mild interest, embarrassment that I'd ever brought it up in front of anyone. Rinse, wash, repeat and revisit in six years' time, when I'll come across a bunch of old writing that, at first glance, seems like it might actually be half decent.