on moving.

After being here four months, we finally found an apartment and moved into it. This meant rediscovering everything that had been in boxes in my aunt’s garage for the past 3.5 years. And the stuff we’d carried with us from Chile. Not to mention packing and unpacking the stuff we’d accumulated since (re)arriving to California. 

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Anyway. During all this unpacking, I opened several old journals. Many starts lasting fewer than days with some tome-like miracles thrown in. I flipped through and read an entry here, a soppy digression there. At every new journal beginning and often in between, I lament the lack of storyline. What happened after August 23, 2005, and before January 7, 2009? Even though huge gaps glare at me from my past, I’m generally, momentarily, fascinated by what’s been noted. I feel like I’m snooping a peek into somebody else’s life. Have you ever felt like this looking back at your own writing?  

So, what’s happened since December 2, 2010, since we entered the States. Even though I feel the urge to somehow fill in the blanks, I know the blanks aren’t all that interesting. A bulleted list can’t penetrate the psychology of a timeline. So, I start here. We are now three in our own place, and it feels good. 

We have internet now, and that feels great. Let’s just say I’ve missed you all so much. Thank you for your lovely notes, comments and mail. I so look forward to catching up in the coming weeks. 

Do you keep a journal? Regularly? And how do you manage it?