201

When I realized I had hit 200 posts- this is my 201- I was surprised and a little in awe of myself. What the hell have I been writing about 200 times? Humph.

There are certainly the drivel posts, and ones where I whine or complain, rant ones too. But mostly I was surprised that I do seem to be writing about the goings on around here and thoughts that pop into my head, invited or not.

Tonight, I could fulfill NaBloPoMo by listing all my posts, but that just seems ridiculous and boring. Plus you can see them all over there on the left. Which made me think about a couple of things.

One, I've been toying around with labeling and categorizing the posts. I think it would be more for me than anything. Kind of a neat (as in tidy, not neato) way to compartmentalize them all. And two, I've never completed the whole story of how our family came to be. I just need to finish the twins, everyone else is done, but there story is the hardest to get out and deal with. I think it's a subconscious, conscious maneuver to not write it all down so I don't have to deal with it. Writing makes it more real somehow- not like I didn't live through it all- a lot of anger, I think, that I'd rather leave untapped.

Perhaps I'll take a page from G. She wrote an incredible post about her son Elijah. Her son taken from her at 13 months. A life stolen.

I've got my twins and it all ended happy, mostly. Move on, let go. Yes?

I'll do it, I swear and then I'll label all the posts and put them in neat little categories- at least the 'how we all became a family' ones. Sometime...in the near future, I will. Then I won't have to save up my nickels for therapy, because I'll have done it here.

I've also been thinking about attending blogher. (Follow that link, Raquel- it's not a lesbian thing- far from it, I'm sure) It's in The City- so I could get there easy enough and it would be some alone time, and something I'm interested in. I'm just not so hip on the sorority part- where you think it's going to be all good, but really it's just a bunch of cliquey women all talking about each other. Not that I'm saying it is going to be like that. It's just all that estrogen in one place is a little scary. Perhaps I could use a pseudonym? Or jsut be a fly on the wall. Hmmm... Not to mention it costs an arm and a leg. I don't have to stay at the St. Francis. I have family in The City, Oakland and down the peninsula, but then I couldn't be all cliquey with everyone, or just pass out in the hotel room. Oh... so many things to think about. Probably like 201...

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