Sunday, June 10, 2012

Another Time, Another Place

It's been nearly six years since I left The Chronicle. That means it's been nearly that long that I've had a blog. Man, I've loved it. Begun with the assumption that I'd just be creating a little place for far-flung family to pop in for a visit now and again, it soon lost that purpose. Not that I discouraged those visits, mind you, but visits didn't matter.


I began to use this to record those years of my children that were speeding by in a blur. My only regret was that I hadn't done it sooner. Who the fuck can expect to remember all that happens in the heady days when your first is a wee thing and every single solitary thing he did was surely branded in your memory to last for...


They last only long enough for another never-to-be-forgotten moment from Eldest or then Daughter or then Youngest to occur and nearly wipe out everything before it, tsunami-like in its destruction.


They don't last. Duh.


Then this becomes too important to me, this documentation, and I expand it out beyond them to the world I encounter nearly always because of them. School. School districts. School boards. And all that vomit-inducing suckitude that apparently is the meaning of desolate and deteriorating suburban outposts.


Speaking of vomit, so far, I've spent about six minutes just letting my mind wander and spit it out into a keyboard. [Some might even call it "vomit it out."] Such a small amount of time to write this post, to write any post.


But I rarely take the time anymore. And I think I know why. It's because you're here. And I don't want my life here to be available to many of you there. Some of you, for sure. Yeah. I couldn't go on without you. Think Tara. And Janet. Others, too. Of course Virginia and "the boys." My husband. My BFF. And my other BFF.


It's like an Academy Awards speech gone amok. See what happens when you spend seven minutes on something?


You know where to find me, if you want to find me. Or if I want you to find me.


I don't promise anything. I don't say I won't be back here. I'm just going to go somewhere eother. I kind of like that combination of "ether" and "other." I'll bet it's already trademarked.



11 comments:

Josie Two Shoes said...

I totally understand this, it's one of the reasons coworkers and relatives aren't envited to my blog and I don't advertise it on Facebook. While it is in the public domain, most of the folks who read there are people I want to share my inner self with, unlike many of the people in my everyday life. If you end up moving elsewhere, I'd love an invitation. I feel like I've come to know you a bit over the past years of shared blogging, and I'd enjoy seeing what changes are coming next in your life. Josie2shoes@yahoo.com

Josie Two Shoes said...

Wrong email address, that one is closed.. use jts.2000@yahoo.com :-)

Tara R. said...

Been there, done that. I know where you lurk, and I'll keep an eye out for you.

Anonymous said...

I will soooo miss you. You are a fantastic writer. Ginny

Sarah said...

Oh no!
Don't go!
(Look! A poem!)
Will you at least come to BlogHer this summer so that I can meet you in person?
Pretty please?

I am so fond of you, friend.

42Skidoo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Magpie said...

really?

also, what sarah said. come to new york.

mayberry said...

so if we're following you elsewhere, all social-media like, we're good, RIGHT?

Anonymous said...

I feel if not for this blog we NEVER would have reconnected, or maybe even connected for the FIRST time, and I would have been the worse for it. Love you AND your writing,truly inspiring and intelligent, like you.
Brother Steve

Jomama said...

I've just started re-surfacing after taking a hiatus myself. Let me know if there is an alternate way to follow your musings. I've enjoyed your perspective.

Jomama said...

Just when I am coming back online after crazy work hiatus, you're leaving. Good luck going forward--I understand. My only consolation is that I have about a year's worth of your posts to catch up. I'll miss your perspective.

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