2011 marks a completely new life for me. I'm finishing my last semester of graduate school - which means working on my thesis, a collection of short stories based around (in form, content, and all that great nerdy stuff) interstitial texts - and am a new mama to an awesome little *surprise* droidlet. I'm also at the beginning stages of planning a wedding (but if you look at my "ring finger" you won't see an engagement ring; and no, not because I'm delusional and hopingprayingwishing that he will pleaseproposesoon, but because we know this is what we want and what we are planning). All of this is great and exciting but oh-so-different than what I expected for myself.
2010 would have told you that I wasn't going to have kids until I was 35, if at all, that I laugh in the face of that silly institution called marriage, and that my fluid sexuality would never have me end up living on my old college campus with my BOYfriend (who I refer to as partner, even though he doesn't like that word). I was going to move to England and sit in pubs reading Lacan and Saussure and drinking lots of great cider (which I'm still determined to do, at least on holiday). And all of these changes do have their reasons. Damn good reasons. That is what this blog is about.
Because here I am, life snirking and giggling in the background, starting a blog (another thing I never thought I would do) to try and wade through the madness that is student/mama/partner/wedding planner/writer/daughter... that I am. I know I'm going to learn and I want that documented. It's part of my writerly self; I can't help but turn everything into a story. And maybe, along the way, some readers will trickle in and learn something too. Or not. If I've learned anything so far it's that my expectations are always either exceded or underwhelmed, never matched.
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