When we first got involved, blog, dear, you filled all my needs. I could indulge the lifelong illusion that every thought and half formed notion that popped into my head should be recorded for posterity.
Even as a kid, I wrote in my childhood diary about my somewhat ordinary childhood and my uneventful suburban life, certain that I would be the next Anne Frank or Helen Keller.. that someday school children worldwide would read my diaries and journals and be spellbound.
“Today I rode my bike to the 7-11 and bought twizzlers and a pack of cabbage patch kids. Bret L. said I have a big nose. We had pork chops for supper.” Wow, they’d say. Pork chops. Imagine.
I journalled all my days until I was 29. Marriage meant I had somebody to prattle all my stream-of-conscious brilliance to, and babies weren’t far behind.
Then I found you, dear blog. As a lifelong show off who, in childhood, had put on long involved performances for an imaginary audience, (including monologues) — I was in love with your features — photo downloads? Daily updates? Remarkable! For years, you were all I needed.
I don’t know what happened, really. It’s not you, it’s me. OK, maybe it’s you. Your unwieldy outdatedness just didn’t keep up with the times. You became unreliable, and somehow got stuck in a post from last spring, sending my imaginary audience back to the same picture of sprouts under a shop light while I went on with my life, blogging away unseen.
I tried to get some counseling… I called yahoo’s support, and asked how I could make this work. The answer was always the same… “We no longer support that outdated function… we’ve changed over to a new system…
Before long, even uploading a photo became a chore. You froze up on me, signed me out without warning. I learned I couldn’t depend on you to remember what I said once I pushed the “save” button.
Somewhere along the way — and I didn’t plan this, it just happened — a friend invited me to join Facebook. It was just a lark, I tried it just out of curiosity. I never meant to get involved.
But that’s where I have been spending all my time, dear blog, and I am sorry but this relationship just isn’t working for me anymore. Maybe I will stop back once in a while for old time’s sake, but Facebook offers so many things that you can’t. It’s not just a monologue… I am beating my high school boyfriend at scrabble, sending my mother-in-law pictures of Molly’s double-yolked egg, and my passion for Word Challenge keeps me up late into the night. There are faces of my friends there, fellow potters, childhood pals, homeschool moms, family and area organizations like Toledo Grows. It’s where the party is. And deep down, I am still a party girl.
So, blog, thanks for the memories. There are a lot of good posts, here… motherhood and my MFA, canning peaches and adventures with the kids… so I can’t delete you. But if you want me, I’ll be with my new friends at facebook, where I can overshare what I had for dinner, and what bird is at my feeder, and other essential details — several times a day! Imagine.