A new trick

Is it possible to be a "diary person" despite having never regularly kept a diary? I may not have succeeded, but I've had at least a couple compelling failures.

In December 1993, I bought a one-year diary. It had 365 pages (marked Jan 1, Jan 2, etc.), and I was excited to fill them all.* By most accounts, this effort was a failure. Within a year, fewer than twenty pages were touched. I accepted the failure, but refused to accept that the irregularity of my entries condemned the diary. 16 years later, I'm still filling it in. Nothing more ambitious than a few entries a year, but it's become valuable to me.

I appreciated Diasporatic; the name, the people, the shared history. What I really loved about it was that, for a time, the blog represented the commitment to stay close as our lives diverge. Some of you are better about communication than I am, but I was born an old dog. New tricks come slowly, and the fact that I posted on a blog at all was huge first step.

Apparently, Diasporatic is dead. I don't suppose that I did much to help. I haven't written an entry in eight months, and haven't actually posted one in twice that time. If you've been unfortunate enough to subscribe to these posts, thanks for your willingness to read and my apologies for not actually writing anything. Now that it's officially dead, however, I miss it. So I'm going to give this new communal blog a whirl. Follow if you will.

Best,

Amar

*For you film buffs, my first entry ("bye bye 1993") was a review of one of the great movies of our time: Beethoven 2.