The Writer’s Notebook: Loving Moleskines

I know.  I'm fifty gazillion years behind everyone else on this.  It
is a perverse streak I have that I don't quite understand.  For
instance, if everyone and their uncle is reading and talking about a
current bestseller, I won't buy it.  (One exception is the Stieg Larsson books.)
I'm not proud of this because it reeks of snobbery…or something else
I can't define but which doesn't reflect well on my moral character. 
(Another example–I'm only just now on the third volume of the Harry
Potter series.)

But back to the moleskines.  I've gone whole hog for them.  I resisted them for so long because they were a thing.  And they had a mystique.  I can't do mystiques. All those famous authors and artists used them–Picasso! Hemingway! Van Gogh! Bruce Chatwin! 

Also I resisted them because I thought they wouldn't work for me. 
With some rare exceptions, I've always preferred spiral notebooks, the
easier to turn the cover back on itself and balance the book on a
knee.  Perfect bound notebooks often break and split and are sometimes
awkward to handle. But guess what? They turn back on themselves beautifully and the standard size is perfect for carrying around.  The paper is thin, but not too thin.  They have a ribbon to mark your place, a generous back pocket to stick stuff in, and an elastic band to wrap around the whole thing. Sigh deeply.  Have I mentioned I'm in love?

And plus, there's more–there's something about the overall feel of the moleskine, more than the sum of its parts, that lends authority to everything I write in it.  My first moleskine has rejuvenated my journaling habit.  My journal is my constant companion, but sometimes it just feels….dull.  Not anymore.  Not with the moleskine.  Just opening it makes me happy.

What kind of notebook do you use? What do you write in it?