Hello, November. Hello, you. I haven’t touched this space in four months. For most of the summer, I kept a steady stream of poems and other little bits and pictures up on a small board on my front fence. It seems a more relevant platform for posting things that might inspire. And I want to remain stalwart to my analog commitment. I do. But keeping a public blog amuses me. Even if I think that it’s all a big fat wink wink nudge nudge and the more I think about it, the more I understand that we all want someplace to be who we want to be, even if we can’t be that person all the time. Blogging is as authentic as pro wrestling is as true as my smile would be if my cranky old biddy neighbor rang my doorbell. And anyone who says otherwise is pulling your leg.
Since last I wrote, my computer bit the dust. All family members in my household now jockey for turns on the frankenmachine in the basement, a mishmash of new + old parts. It’s funny how a monitor that seemed so brilliant in 1998 is so square and roundy-cornered and irritating now; it warms up slowly, like my childhood teevee, and the bottom left quadrant is prone to the ripples. Which is to emphasize that blogging would be (is!) a hassle anyway, separate from my growing apathy. Just the logistics of using a machine that isn’t really mine, isn’t set up per my preferences, has restructured my relationship with the internet. This is not necessarily a bad thing.
Oh, I have a smartphone, don’t get me wrong. I have facebook and flickr and twitter in my pocket all the time. Of course I do. I update and read in tiny bursts, though. Even email seems like a postcard: quaint but not for timely matters, no. I am grateful for the honesty of everyday friends. I am glad to have people who want to know more about me than the quick smack I type out in those little updatey places. I am thankful for being known off-line.
My old blog was called Little Pitchers. I wrote on it for, what? Three years? And even now if you search for those two words together, no quotes or anything, that blog comes up first on google. So maybe this is an altar to my hubris, a sly under the table foot rub to my shrunken ego. Let’s see if I can do it again. I have used the phrase “have a banner day!” on my outgoing voicemail greeting for a lot of years, as far back as I can recall. I feel attached and fond of those words together. And if I can increase their association with me, just by writing about whatever to the faceless internet, well then why the heck not?
No guarantees. But it is blog posting month.