Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Then Again, I Could Soundtrack This with Europe and Asia
I haven’t felt like writing. Period. Which, considering the amount of word-related stuff I’ve been blowing off, is kind-of an understatement. If the writing wasn’t directly related to petroleum cleanup*, ecological risk assessment, or plumes of drycleaning solvents, I was blocking it out. Or putting it off. Form letter(s) to family to accompany new pictures of Mia? Nope. Entries for correspondence workshopping? Nuh-uh. Blog posts? Sorry . . . er, well, not really, anyway.
Patricia recently told me that the domain this blog is on is set to expire next month. She asked if she should renew it, as (apparently) I’m the only one using it. The price is thoughtlessly cheap, but the possibility of shutting down this site is tempting. I mean, I have Vox, right? Maybe that would (further) motivate me to start an online (and limited print) poetry journal. And perhaps that novel idea that I’ve been passively telling people about (and researching . . . and planning).
I think I’m starting to realize I don’t have the time (or inclination) to keep it all going at once. As people younger, more interesting, and more talented than me shut down their blogs or go on indefinite hiatus, I keep I feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome.
Of course then I have a moment like last night when I was wading through post-home-game traffic and phoned in my order to a local indie pizza place. Two slices? (“We don’t sell slices any more.”) Okay, how about a 14-inch with meatball? This conversation took place around 7:55, when the girl taking my order couldn’t give me a time when my pizza would be ready. (“We’re really busy, so I’m saying 20 to 25 minutes.”) Reasonable. I arrived and paid for my pizza. Was told it would be another 5 or 10 minutes. This was about 8:20. My pizza was ready at 9:05. To be fair, the place was mobbed. Near campus. After a home game where “we” lost. But that pizza, voted “the best in town” was not the best in town. Oh it was pretty good, but not worth-an-hour-wait good. Not even an hour wait during which we were treated to arena-rock hits of the 80s. (Complete with “The Final Countdown” and “Sole Survivor.”)
*sigh*
So . . . pizza-hunting exploration stories will not save this blog. Just a FYI.