Words About Stuff

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

I was a lover

It's been observed lately that it's been awhile since I wrote anything here. It actually took some time to clean all the cobwebs away, but with that and the subsequent coughing fit aside, I think I'm ready to write some more words. About, you know, stuff.

I guess, in my particular meta-blogging idiom, I ought to start by writing about why I haven't written in awhile. Turns out, I've decided, personal blogs aren't really my thing, at least in the frequently-updated-online-diary style. I gave it a shot last year on my birthday, because I'd been toying with the idea and that seemed like a suitably portentious day to begin the project, but then it fizzled.

I think it's the hidden luddite in me, actually. I realize what an odd thing that is for me to say, but I think those of you who've really been paying attention may have already noticed it: as much as I enjoy and am comfortable with technology in all its ever-changing glory, there is also a voice of moderation in me. There's a part of me that thinks important things should be said in person, and internet shorthand is a lame thing 4 us 2 do 2 our language. In the end, a personal blog ends up containing the things I might have said in conversation with a friend, if I'd happened to have such a conversation before sitting down and trying to write a blog post.

That's what got me, in the end. It was the feeling that blogging was too much like having a conversation with a friend, except way less personal and therefore way less rewarding. I stopped wanting to write about my life here because it galled me to think there might be people out there who would start reading my blog to find out what's going on in my life, rather than just calling me to hang out and talk. In fact, come to think of it, there's one friend in particular who sort of disappeared on me awhile back, and the last thing we ever talked about was some inconsequential comment about my blog. That was probably about the time I stopped writing so much, because I'd rather just hang out and talk.

In other news, TV on the Radio is singing, "I was a lover before this war." I really like that line, and that song. I think a lot of us have gotten a little battle-hardened of late, ever more consumed by frustration and fury at the way of the world. But we were all lovers, once. I hope, when the battle is won, that we'll still remember how.

I had an interview the other day which was a little intimidating at first, because there were six of them and, as you might imagine, only one of me. The first question: lay out a plan of action and resource allocation for the setup of an entire local intranet of 30-some workstations with file- and device-sharing, internet access, email, etc. Oy, at least they started with the easy stuff.

I suffered through it, though, as they worked their way up to the last question: do you usually snack throughout the day, or do you stick to a few major meals?

Hippies make my day.

3 Comments:

  • But can't we hang out AND read each other's rantings online?

    Ok, fine, I will forgive you if you abandon me out here in the blogosphere (blech, I hate that word). Just remember, I know where you live...

    By Blogger Andrea, at 8:10 PM  

  • hi, at the risk of being awkward, who writes this blog? i noticed you link to tadfad (kudos!) but i have to admit that i can't for the life of me figure out who pens words about stuff.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 9:51 AM  

  • It's so strange that I would happen upon your blog, because I'm not a blog-reading kind of gal. Much for the same reasons you stated. And I'm not a blog-writer, either. Livejournal + Me = barely happening at all.

    It's just a far less rewarding experience that in-person communication. It's just a bit hollow and sad, eventually, if the people who once were so IN your life just drift in and out of your "internet life", as if you've devolved into nothing more than a moment's entertainment over morning coffee. I'm exaggerating, but you get the idea.

    That was so nice of you and Anna to stop by my house YEARS ago. I wasn't there, but I got your notes. I think I still had them in a drawer somewhere until I spilled something on them...

    So has Treya drifted back into your internet life? Because she has mine. We're in sporadic contact. Ces't la vie.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:48 AM  

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