Sleep Deprivation = Blog Fodder

It's 2 am and I can't sleep.  Might as well write...my lovely baby Bichon is curled up on my pillow next to me anyway, snoring away so peacefully that I would feel like a massive meanie waking him up. Insomnia is not a new feeling (if you can call it a feeling...it's more like a state) for me.  I can remember being 6 years old and laying in the dark as my baby sister slept like, well, a baby on the other side of the room.  My mother would put me to bed at a decent hour and I would stay awake in the dark, eyes wide open and anxious, wondering about how big the universe really is.

  (I am not kidding.  I was/am really good at angsting).  

To take my mind off more existential matters I would whip out a little flashlight and read under the covers until my mother came back in a few hours later and make me fork the flashlight over.  The next morning I would fall asleep on the bathroom floor and show up late for first grade class.

Rinse and repeat.  Ad infinitum.  

Flash back to this morning, when I did the same thing.  

I promise to put some nice visuals into this blog soon...

Familia

Yep, it's a stereotype but one that has a grain (I mean boulder) of truth to it:  Latinos are generally very family-oriented.  My family is as well, I am the middle child of three (1 older bro, 1 younger sis) and happily my parents are still around and very healthy.  

That said, I come from a classically dysfunctional immigrant family.  My parents immigrated from the Caribbean a few years after marrying, with the intention of spending one year here and then returning to their country.  One year turned into two, my older brother was born and then me, and then my sis and then...the saga continues...

The US has been an extremely rewarding yet simultaneously very difficult place for my family.  This tension is reflected in just about every aspect of our lives, even for those of us who were born in the States.  Being an immigrant kid is a tremendous privilege in many ways, but it also forces you to mature rapidly -- for example, you are at times expected to act like an adult and speak on behalf of parents with heavy accents or limited English in a given situation, or you are obligated to navigate aspects of the US system (public schools, for one) on your own.  And since your right to "belong" in this country is frequently questioned -- sometimes in the smallest, almost imperceptible ways -- you tend to develop an acute sense of self, or at the very least a sharp understanding of what/who you aren't.  

These are just a few everyday examples.  

My intention here is not to complain, but rather to enlighten.  I'm just writing down some random thoughts that floated up to the top of my mind after speaking with my mother.  It's incredible how regression works, isn't it?   

Welcome to my brain (Run while you can, gente!)

Ahem.  This is my first-ever blog post, and the fact is that I am shocked it took me so long to arrive here.  I decided that I was going to be a writer at age six and that's exactly what I ended up doing (I technically am an college professor, but spend a large portion of my time writing books and articles).  But for some reason I have stayed away from the internet, even though I spend an inordinate amount of time researching, surfing, and just thinking about the net.  

Isn't writing a blog kind of like what those of us who grew up in the eighties and early nineties did with our diaries?  (I am referring to those cute little diaries with the useless  (but darling nonetheless) locks that my everyone else used to be able to pick with their eyes shut.  You know, those miniscule Hello Kitty or Merry Melody diaries with the impossibly skinny pencils...)

I digress.  

I also feel kinda vain for having this blog.  But then again most of me doesn't give a crap. 

So welcome to my blog, the thoughts of a thirty-something U.S. Latina with a penchant for music, books, movies, travel, dogs, great food, and a mad handbag fetish.  There's much more to the package than just that, but I figure we have time to get to know each other.  

So if you read, I'll type.  Hell, my dog will even join in sometimes (he's very sharp).  

And feel free to drop me a line once in a while.  

Por favor.