Pretty Quiet Indeed

I don’t know where I am anymore.  I’m here, in this chair, wondering, but where am I really?  In terms of the Internet, I don’t know.  I’ve gotten to the point where I’m wondering why anyone would care about what I have to say.  Who am I and why would anyone listen (or read, as the case may be)?  I’ve lost my grip on Twitter.  I was once an enthusiastic and prolific tweeter; I could wittle any thought down to 140 or less with skill and precision.  Now, I’m lucky if I remember Twitter exists.  I’ve never understood Facebook, but what I grasp now is that it’s the forum through which we Windows phone users can play Words With Friends.  I throw up a status update once in a while, just to see how it feels.  I long ago abandoned Google+ because I didn’t get it when it first came out and I’m much too old and crotchety to bother.  Do people still do Google+?

I haven’t written for MamaPop in about a month and a half.  I miss the people.  With Eirinn and Avery in skating and gymnastics and my 9-5 being about 694 times busier than usual, I’m thankful for having one less responsibility, but I do miss the people.  I also miss having that as a part of my on-line identity.  I noticed on Friday that I still hadn’t removed the MamaPop link from my email signature.  It had been a part of me for so long, it hadn’t even occurred to me to delete it.

Even this blog (g’head and roll your eyes at yet another Pondering The State Of My Blog post; it seems there’s a new one everyday somewhere on the Internet).  I’ve been here and also not.  I’m at that point where every blogger gets stuck, usually at this time of year or during the busy summer months, where everything seems too boring or insignificant or self-indulgent to bother those of you with who have stuck around.  I’ve been considering doing a post about How To Transform Your Closet, but then I think I’m being pretentious and presumptuous and so I don’t.  I haven’t mentioned how my kids seem to be skating phenoms and gymnastics prodigies because blah.   I know my kids are rock stars, but do you need to know?  Do you want to know?  Instead of finding out, I just scrap the whole idea.  It’s like that with a lot of things.  I start out thinking something would make a great post, but then I talk myself out of it, and in its place is a great void.  It’s like my blog is being consumed by The Nothing and, like Bastian, I can only watch.

But whatever, right?  It’s only a blog and it’s only the Internet.  I’m still on the computer as much as I used to be, I suppose, mostly because that’s where the majority of my job exists.  Not on the Internet, but near it.  That’s sort of been the story of my life.  I stay just on the outside of what’s happening; watching and listening as much as my failing eyes and ears allow, but never stepping with both feet into the inner circle.  Never with the in crowd, but near it.  Like a character actor you recognize, but can’t name.  And if I continually believe that no one cares about what I have to say, that’s where I’ll stay.  But you know what?  I think this is where I want to stay.

It’s easy out here, on the outskirts of what’s happening.  I’m not fighting for attention or raising my voice to be heard or worried about how my hair looks.  I’m always wearing the right shoes and no one cares if I stutter.  I don’t think I was ever right in the center of it all, but I was certainly closer to the action.  Right now, further from the mark, this is exactly where I belong.  I can be as quiet as I want, which is pretty quiet indeed.

Advertisements

16 thoughts on “Pretty Quiet Indeed

  1. Bastion? Was there a book to go with that movie? That movie was awful. But I think now, if there was a book upon which that awful movie was based perhaps that book was a good book and I shouldn’t besmirch the name of the neverending story based on a bad movie when there was a good book. So that’s my first question. Was there a book?

    I think to myself, when i write my blog (which is new and has yet to suffer a moment of “should I just quit the blog”) at the very LEAST I have something that my kids can read in a couple decades. Something that was written FRESH when they did or said something. . . not years and years later. Something that maybe gives an adult version of themselves a fresh perspective on what mommy and daddy were going through when they said “no” to the puppy. Hell, maybe even a manual on “how to parent” or “how not to” depending up how angry they are when they read it. So at the very LEAST it’s a record for yourself of things you’re far to busy to remember five years from now, let alone five weeks from now.

    At the most, it’s a chance to reach out to others with stories of your rockstar children and make them laugh or cry and maybe let them do the same for you with their rockstar children.

    So anyway. . . maybe I don’t NEED to know what skating phenoms your children are. . . but maybe your children would appreciate reading about it in a few years or. . . gulp. . . after you’re gone.

    • True. All of it. I just always assume I’d be too embarrassed to show my kids the WHOLE blog to show them the parts that they’re included. But, no. You’re right.

      And, yes, The Neverending Story is based on a German fantasy novel, but, being entirely illiterate in anything but English, I haven’t read it to find out if it’s better than the movie. Although, I do love the movie, if only for nostalgic reasons.

  2. Wow…I could have written this post, Jen. I’ve basically dropped out of Twitter and wonder why it no longer interests me when I used to be on it every day. Haven’t blogged in months. I think about it but then something always stops me. But I’m fine with it. I have too much going on, and lots of sadness right now. Don’t really want to blog about it. But whatever… when you post, I’ll be here reading.

  3. I like your words. Whether you post them daily or once out of the blue, I like them so I hope you keep putting them out there when you feel compelled to do so, not for any other reason. And the fact that you bust out the Bastion and Never Ending Story reference just gave me happy flashbacks to being young and SO SO SO wanting to ride on the big dog/dragon thing. That’s awesome.

  4. I READ YOUR BLOG! I have subscribed and I am a new blogger and you are an inspiration to me. In the short period of time that I have been doing this I have gone on the emotional highs and lows ride of “Why the hell am I even doing this?” I think you are following your instincts. I know I like to write and I like to learn and blogging is addressing both of those callings for me. I think you are funny and sharp and you should be proud of yourself.

  5. #1 Google+ is stupid.

    #2 I like your blog. A lot. There’s something about your tone that I relate to and want to hear more.

    #3 Yeah, I think we want to hear about your kids doing killer stuff and your closets and sh*t. Why not? There are many “fluffy” mom blogs out there and you are not one of them. I’m confident that even a piece about your closet will be entertaining and sharp. Do it. Don’t stop…

    #4… but stop if you need a break. It’s only blogging. Your readers will still be here.

  6. I am feeling this post. I almost wrote one like it. Mine would have been less eloquent though. Something along the lines of “I’ve got nothing, but I’m still lurking.”

  7. I totally hear you, Jen.

    I have pretty much stopped using Twitter – I just feel like I can’t get a word in edgeways and cannot compete with everyone else. I beat myself up about it for quite a while, but now I’m just letting it slide. If Twitter were a party in real-life, I would sit in the corner and observe, saying very little, so I’ve figured that my online presence kind of reflects that too.

    I really, really enjoy your writing, I love hearing about your kids and your life.

    Be still – you never know, in a few months time, you might emerge from the quiet, shouting from the rooftops!

  8. Like everybody else, I can’t help but nod in agreement. Blogging… why DO we do it anyways? And who should care about our little life, yet obviously people care because we keep on reading, commenting and trying in some odd way to connect.

    I get quickly bored of Twitter and Facebook, never wandered on Google+ and never ever had a MySpace account. And my blog, well, I sometimes go weeks without writing and what’s weird is that when my life becomes highly active and I should have something to write about I tend to ignore my blog. Its a good sign, it means I’m actually out there living my life with real people rather than some cyber thing that doesn’t quite exist…

    I love reading your stories. I love the pace in which they read. Just nice and every time I finish reading a post I sit back and think of how cool you’d be as a friend. That is if you really existed. Of course!

Talk to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s