Who I am

It has been a while since I posted, and I think that I'm long past promising another post will be forthcoming. 

But while I have a minute, and your attention, I thought I would describe the space that this blog has been, and is, for me.

I'll begin with a story of me, age 22.  I lived in a little 4-plex apartment and had been settled in for several months, though I still had two boxes in the trunk of my little yellow toyota corolla.  Feeling mad in the crazy sense, I took those two boxes and without looking inside dropped them at the good will.  I felt good about this unorthodox and totally un-sentimental-packrat-me move until a few months later.  When I realized that I had inadvertently donated my box of memories and could not get it back.  Goodbye spelling bee button.  Goodbye prom princess crown and sash.  Goodbye old love letters.  Goodbye childhood photos of me.  Goodbye little art pieces saved through the years.  Luckily, I had saved my journals separately.

Yesterday I started looking for this binder I made in 8th grade called "My Self Book."  I think it is torture to have an 8th grade girl create a self book, as I think most 13 year olds have a hard time identifying as a unique self at all and just want to be a loved part of the pack.  And I couldn't find it.  And now I worry, was it in the box?  Is it gone forever?  Because that would mean the loss of other treasures, beauties of my heart, lost. 

My twenties were spent in a pre-digital age.  Sure, digital cameras existed.  But I was happily luddite, stupidly "punk" and had very few friends that gave me photos of myself.  Any friends out there with pictures of us?  Send them this way!  I would love any photos that prove that I was once between 18 and 26 years of age, carefree and beautiful.

So first and foremost, this is a place to save memories.  It is a place to track the hours (a la Virginia Woolf).  It is a place to prove the past was real.

Ah, beauty.  Ok call me crazy, but I love it.  I love the amount I have and get to enjoy in my person.  (There I said it and call me an egotist.)  I love what I see outside and in small things every day.  I can't get over the beauty of my children, and they grow on these pages as my relationship with them does.  Cada dia.

My children.
The Bug and the Fox.  With their dad, they form the brightness of my every day.  I am delighted by watching them change and grow.  We have a love positive feedback loop that is just divine.  I post about them all the time and go back and forth about whether or not this is a good thing.  Time will tell.

My husband.
I am very stingy about him and you get to know very little at all.  Unless he says it is ok.  Our love is private and I'm not sharing.  (Ok Morrissey song, get out of my head.)

I'm also a big idea person with very little follow through.  I blame this on lack of free time.  But really, it is also that I just cannot stay focused on one project at a time, or apparently long enough to make something out of it, most of the time.  But here in this electronic blip of memory, I can record my stops and starts, my minutes of ingenuity, and feel as though they had some purpose.  This gives me peace.

Fu#!ing politics.
I will now and then make some stupid political commentary and you dear reader just have to suck it up.  I will try not to swear though because I hate swearing.

Fashion and Design.
In my daydreams, I have a really stylish wardrobe and an organized home full of carefully selected pieces that reflect me, my family, my husband, my life, and our favorite things.  One day soon (two years from now?) we hope to remodel our kitchen.  One day soon (before I die?) I would like to have a really stylish wardrobe.  So here and there I will likely post the kinds of things that inspire me.

As I wrote this post I realized I was writing about what this blog is and will be about.  That was not my intent as I sat down, so now that I am taking the time to try to capture all of what it is, humor me in knowing that it will likely evolve, be totally erratic, and maybe only half the time meet the descriptions I have made here.

I want to be an author.  I may someday post little bits of my latest book idea here.  Or story.  Or something else altogether.  (See above.)


  1. Oh, losing that box sounds heartbreaking, but liberating at the same time. I love this post. And I really love that photo of you and miles! Beautiful.

  2. Amy!
    You brilliant beauty! I love, love, love this post. I am so excited to read your stories and admire what's inspiring you and see more pretty dresses. Pretty dresses were made for you, Amy Robinson! And I remember so fondly, the chilly morning in 2005 when you came to the school to drop off Adam, and I kidnapped you and made you sit in my classroom and drink coffee and tell me your stories and how delighted I was to have just met you, lovely creature, and how hungry I was to read your fiction!
    Hooray! Happy Sunday to you, Amy!

  3. Gina, I absolutely positively remember that day sitting in your classroom. Thanks for reminding me of that moment. And thanks for the encouragement! I hope you like sci-fi...

    Emery, thank you thank you. FYI, the self book turned up at my Mom's house. Phew. But the box...argh. I miss it.


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