Travel, sports cars, fine dining, and beautiful counter-agents aside, the downside to being an undercover operative is it often takes you away from blogging.
Okay, so maybe I’m making that up, but not all of it—I’m sure undercover operatives have little time for blogging—just the part about me being one…maybe.
But, the thing I can be completely straight-forward about is my absence was not because of you, it was me. I’m not the first to have slipped away. Recently, I went through my “follow” list and felt a pang of loss at all the great bloggers I followed, who had also slipped through the dark veil that separates our on-line world from the places where we act out those other life roles.
In a way, blogging has always been like a favorite book or movie to me. A world that exists in my mind, and the mind of those who read my stuff, and of those whose stuff I read. A comfortable place filled with friendships and acquaintances made from written words. As I looked back at my last post from January I wondered at the time that had passed. There didn’t seem to be a single moment or a particular event that I can mark and say, “this is why I stopped blogging.”
It seemed instead that this perfect little relationship, through no fault of its own, simply stepped back to make room for other things…like the completion of my third Creepers novel, work writing, my consulting career, the gym-rat I’ve become, and completion of my new office—all great and upcoming topics.
Mostly, it felt like an old friendship, the kind that never breaks, but often fades into the background of our lives. I knew for weeks now that I planned to reestablish my blogging. Let’s face it, I never stop writing and without several outlets I would be in danger of maybe collecting cats or posting endless sunsets on Instagram. The problem wasn’t “what to say.” I have the next 8 blogs outlined. It just seemed weird to post a post without a “Hi, how are you? Sorry I was gone. Hey I missed you,” etc etc.. I felt etiquette required an “I’m back blog.”
The situation reminded me of another relationship I once ignored.
Back in my first third year of college—yes there were two third years—those first few weeks on the University of Connecticut campus were magical. Perfect late summer weather, tons of activity, beautiful co-eds who hadn’t yet given up on summer still sprawled out on the green lawns getting the last of their tans, a never-ending selection of parties, and that hint of crisp autumn air that promised the arrival of Halloween. With so much to distract and a new-found love of cross-campus frisbee golf, I decided that life and college had to be about more than just sitting in a classroom.
A few weeks later I remembered that I had a Spanish class on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I had delayed the two-year, four semester requirement for as long as I could. With just four semester remaining to graduation (that I wouldn’t actually see until I grew up and returned to college four years later), there was no time to screw up the class.
I, of course, was not alone. My best friend Chris had the same class and we had taken turns rationalizing for each other why it wasn’t necessary to immediately attend. Finally, however the time had arrived. Another friend had shared her syllabus with us and we saw that the first exam was quickly arriving. So on the last Tuesday morning of September we trudge our way across campus at O’Dark thirty and sat down in a room full of strangers, hoping the professor would not ask any inappropriate questions of us, like—who the hell are you? Or “where have you been all month?”
Thankfully she didn’t… or she might have, I don’t know because for the first ten minutes she spoke not a word of English. Now I had taken Spanish years earlier and I had been to Mexico where I did okay communicating the more basic needs like—cerveza, tequila, bano—and where I could Donde esta my way to the most important places e.g. Playa, discoteca, and tienda de licores.. This, however, was dreadful She spoke fast and I feared I’d never pass first semester Spanish if this was the standard intensity of college level foreign language classes. Worst yet, everyone in the class seemed to follow along, as if they had spent their entire life speaking the language. Well not everyone—I looked over at Chris and he had the same “WTF” expression that I wore.
But listen it was early, I was still only a few sips into my first coffee, and I would have sat there for at least long enough to allow the caffeine to kick-start my brain. Chris, however, felt bolder and he raised his hand.
“Is this Spanish 101?” he asked.
“No, Italian 215,” the professor answered.
Well, we were certainly relieved. Sort of. On the one hand it made sense why the class lecture moved so fast, but on the other …we had to find out where our intended class had moved to. Actually, it’s a mystery we never solved. Chris decided on a business degree which didn’t have a foreign language requirement and I decided I’d figure it all out later and we both dropped the class. But that’s another story…
Coming back to the blog was sort of like that. Thankfully, my WordPress account was right where I left it. Still it was a little surreal. I had an old list of topics in Scrivener that have come and gone, but I also had the certainty that I don’t want to stand in the Bloggers Add-Drop line. I think we have too many fun things to talk about …like my “dream come true, the kids are finally gone, Dark Fiction Writer’s Perfect Office” that I designed…or the fact that after receiving my second novel award I totally have to kill that old post about how I’ll never win an award…and then there’s the whole Amazon thing, and the world losing its collective mind of course and that new study that demonstrates that sexist men are literally losers…well the list is endless, as are my opinions.
So truly it was not you, it was me. But it’s nice to be back in front of my WordPress account. And if I can get really ambitious and organized…well…I may jump back over to Goodreads and stir up some trouble there too.
So hope all is well with you and wow, why did we wait so long to get together again?
Categories: Life is Funny