Three-years ago today is the first time I thought of the name “La Belette Rouge”, a name that more people know me by than my REAL name. Actually, three-years ago today I was co-teaching a class on Jungian symbolism in the films Pan’s Labyrinth and Amelie. After the class was over I drove home and went to my office and sat at my computer and saw that neither of the two blogs I was reading at the time had a new post up and it was then I had a thought that changed my life, “maybe I could do this, maybe I could blog”. An hour later I had a blog of my own.
This blog was supposed to be a place where I would write about my francophile interests, interests that I didn’t have a place to talk about in my everyday life. Oh, and did I mention that I was sure no one would ever read my blog? I thought it was just going to be me, myself and I and occasionally He-weasel, who would read my francophile-filled posts out of matrimonial obligation. I was also sure I would NEVER-EVER-EVER write about my personal life and I certainly would NEVER write about being a therapist or being in therapy. Hah! What did I know? Three-years later and I never write about France anymore ( and yes, I still love you France) and now you can’t shut me up about my personal life and/or my therapy. As I said a few posts back, blogging has changed my life. And I know I have said it before but I must tell you again how much you all mean to me and how grateful I am that you are here and for the real and true friends I have made here. I can’t imagine how I would have gotten through the last three-years without this blog or without lovely you.
I wish I could have a party to celebrate my three-years of blogging( where does the time go??) and you all could come, that would be lovely. I would serve champagne and all kinds of lovely treats. Lily and He-weasel and Igor would be there and I would thank you profusely for coming to my party and to my blog. I would thank you in person and tell you how grateful I am for being there and reading and commenting and I would tell you how I remember the first comment you left( I am sentimental and I have a fantastic memory). Since I can’t have such a party, I hope that you will go get yourself a glass or cup of something lovely to drink ( cappuccino/cafe’ or Pellegrino will do if you read this in the a.m.) and let me toast you and thank you for being here( oh, and I can’t thank you if I don’t know who you are—please, lovely lurkers, delurk!) Please don’t be a party pooper! Come on, stay…have a drink, put a lampshade on your head and dance a Conga—or at least sign the guest book and let me know you were here.