A beginning.

I realized the writing bug had bit me when I was answering survey questions on my other blog, and my answers became so ridiculously long that no one would ever read them.

I kept a journal for over 10 years, writing regularly if not daily, until the summer of 2007. I don't know exactly why I stopped. Shortly after that, I met a man who changed my life completely.

In late September 2007, I met Anthony. We hit it off (read: hopped into bed together) right away. We fell in love, despite our relationship being long distance (I lived in Massachusetts, he lived in NYC). In early February 2008, I found out I was pregnant. We freaked out but in the end decided to suck it up and have the baby.

On September 22nd 2008, one year to the day after Anthony and I first "hit it off," I gave birth to my baby girl, Téa Lourdes. I spent the subsequent 3 months falling madly in love with her.

I always kept a journal because I didn't want to lose anything. I wanted to record all my important memories. I feel like I have the past year and a half stored up in my head, waiting to get out in words, and I feel an urge to finally get that done before the memories start fading away.

And, this may be too ambitious, but I'd also like to revisit my Lacanian research and entwine it with these memories somehow. Maybe add a little psychoanalytic perspective to my life, to give it more meaning. The interpretation of memory can't be separated from the memory itself. Memory is only a reconstruction.

We'll see where this goes, I guess.