Hi 2008

I think “avid” is an appropriate term for my previous blogging, as I have been gone but two weeks and already feel the pangs of separation between myself and WordPress. Moreover, due to my rather frequent posting habits of yesteryear, two weeks is something of an eternity to be away from my window to the world. Not long enough, however, to come back with a tacky “hello world!” post, in which the only words are “hello world!” (words, I might add, which are more suitable for the millions of blogs that die after their first post, namely the “hello world!” post).

And speaking of glass-pane metaphors, I suppose I should reconsider my last. If this were merely a window to the world, I’d be sitting with my elbows on the sill and watching the rain fall, or perhaps be spying on the creepy old lady next door. It’s more than a window because of its interactive element. Maybe a drive-through window is more appropriate. Especially for quick posts.

Anyway, I’ve discovered a strange cycle in my writing habits. It seems I flourish with my words towards the end of summer, and become weighed down by the oh-so-familiar blank screens of writer’s block in December and early January. What does this mean for you, reader? Why, it simply means that the temporary vow of silence I’d taken in December was a mental vacation. Call it holiday stress, call it seasonal affective disorder, call it what you will. From here on I’ll be picking up speed as far as I can guess.

What will be different about this magnificent new year, two thousand eight, will be the lack of those twice-a-week “neologisms of the day” that have attracted so many fans and admirers. Sure, I can think up twenty or thirty novel words. But 104 a year, on top of school and work? Not a promising promise. I’m sure I’ll have some neologisms to share with my readers (I have a couple brewing) but they’ll appear only when they’re borne from the depths of my insanity (in other words, in a sporadic fashion).

This semester’s going to be tough on an English major. Four classes and fifteen books, twelve of them plays and novels. So this is no summer vacation for me or my WordPressin’.

See you all in the coming weeks.

P.S. Screw that post about not spending any money in January. I’ve already failed.

P.P.S. Reflecting on this reflection, I realize I’d committed one of the cardinal sins of blogging: thinking my material was immaterial to the blogosphere. But anything you write, whether it’s trivial or indispensable, whether it’s publicly displayed or burned immediately afterward, is a step forward in the career of a writer. The only way to get better at writing is to read and to write, and wouldn’t you know it? Blogs provide both services.

P.P.P.S. Yes, I should just include all these postscripts in the main body of my post. But it’s fun to have them down here. Anyway, here’s what I just realized, and this goes along with my post about wanting to have been born in the 19th century: blogging is, in a sense, a step up from conversation. And when it’s put that way, it’s almost like the modern-day equivalent of writing letters to friends by candlelight to discuss anything and everything in a diplomatic and intelligent way.