I’m having a problem sleeping. I’m gonna chalk it up to the half gallon of half-n-half (homemade lemonade and iced tea) I drank during the Super Blow. I’ve already trolled the MFA forum, checked the email accounts (why do I still have three?) and I just can’t look at the manuscript of the crappy essay I wrote yesterday because I’m not in the mood. So I hit bloglines and I check in with the 400-plus feeds I’m still subscribed to but no longer have the time to read — honestly, seven feeds on animators, just because I like their art? Who has that kind of time!
But the thing I’m looking for is that little highlight that isn’t there anymore. In my folder of blogs I call “personal” there’s one that no longer shows any new feeds.
Because my Suze stopped blogging a week ago. And I miss it.
What the hell? It isn’t like I need to read her blog to know what’s going on in the house. Half the time she was blogging while we were in the same room. Rarely (though it did happen) I would learn something about her day or her job or something about the girls that I didn’t previously know before the blog, more often I would see a shared moment for a unique perspective that wouldn’t have otherwise showed up in casual conversation. No examples, just every once in a while I’d see something and go ‘huh’ and gain a different perspective.
She came to the decision because she was burning out on it, she doesn’t have it in her anymore. I can dig it. It’s easy to start and conceive a blog as a place where you’re just going to jot things down to make sense of things and to commnicate something personal with the world at the same time, but when it starts to nag at you, when it feels like a chore or an obligation (as one of my previous blogs began to feel like for me) and your heart isn’t into it, well, time to put it down. She’s gone back to reading more, and the transition between school and work has finally settled out. Suze had her audience and things to say and now she’d rather not chronicle her days but find time to enjoy them. Or decompress. Or just enjoy a book and some wine. So be it.
But I still miss my favorite blogger.
What’s funny is that while we were first dating I used to keep a journal, and actual fill-in-the-pages-with-my-own-handwriting book. I made that book, repurposed an old 1960’s beginning reader (I learned me some bookbinding techniques when I was in college), and I really liked that book on so many levels. I liked it’s privacy (as opposed to a blog) and the tactile aspects of the pages (I bound many different kind of papers into it, as well as included bits and pieces of ephemera) and the fact that it felt more like an historical document than an exercise in bloggerrhea. One can add things to a physical journal — ticket stubs and photos and crazy bits of drawings made on napkins in a cafe — that on a blog have to be designed and uploaded and laid out in a way that makes them more self-conscious of their audience and less an act of personal expression.
Thinking about it now, I miss that sort of journal as well, but that journal ceased to be as important once Suze and I started dating. It was a sounding board, a place to speak and keep myself from going crazy, and once my life took on a different direction the book was no longer necessary.
On her last post Suze says she may yet return to her blog, that she might find she misses it and go back to dropping four posts a day about the girls, her job, how frustrating I can be. I keep thinking I might one day go back to my notebooks and my fountain pen and my crazy personal thoughts that wouldn’t make any sense on a public platform.
Or not. Life without regrets. Blogging without regrets, including the right not to blog.