The thing about not blogging for a while is that… well… its like sex really. For the first week or so you aren’t doing it you think about it constantly - a chance overheard phrase, a glimpse of the sublime (or the ridiculous) when your out, and off you go into your reverie - first lines, pithy and profound comments, in-depth insights into yourself and your fellow man. But then after a while you stop thinking about it as much. Its not that you wouldn’t like to - you kinda miss it but it’s not the all encompassing thing it used to be. You realise that life goes on without it. In fact - you get a life. Its a more peaceful life, an uncomplicated life, a life filled with inner calm and the submergence of the ego. Blogging and Zen seem to be mutually exclusive - although the concept of blogging Buddhists has to be good for a self help book. (and just in case it is - its copyrighted) Its not as interesting as the life you have when you do it - there’s no emotional roller coaster, “no ohmigod! did I really post that after I downed those two bottles of claret” (luckily for me, I haven’t ever actually posted what I’ve blogged while under the influence but that’s to do with the fact that I’m a computer crashing control freak although there has been enough left on the screen the next morning to make my toes curl)

When you haven’t blogged for while it’s really difficult to start again. That’s partly because your typing speed slows down but mostly because deciding where to start is fraught with pitfalls. I mean where would I start? My last blog simply stated that I’d found it - it was a lilac confetti Lucite collar with amethyst rhinestone inclusions made by Coro in the 1940/50’s which formed part of my mums Christmas present. I found it on eBay America, a web site that owing to the vastness of the country, the strength of the pound against the dollar and the plenitude of vintage costume jewellery was a major factor in my absence from the blogosphere for most of December. But although it was a momentous find for me, unless you’re as passionate about costume jewellery made between the first and second world war (especially vintage plastics) as I am (and very few people are) it will be of no interest to you whatsoever. Besides which, much as I love Christmas, it’s now over for another year.

Maybe I could begin by writing about why I stopped blogging in the first place. But if the past is generally considered to be a foreign country then October can be considered to be Hiroshima. Much as I valued the (sharp) lessons it taught me, I’m don’t particularly want to list what those lessons were - even for a reader’s (and if I write “Britney Spears naked” - there’s bound to be one reader at least) delectation and delight. Suffice it to say that the events of October and most of November. while being free of major tragedy (which is always a plus) were not months that I’d care to repeat even in print. In the end it all turned out to be better than good although it didn’t seem so at the time.

I could tell you the best way to smuggle a Gibson out of the house and onto a packed Christmas train while wearing a scarlet coat and carrying a shocking pink cat basket (containing an angry cat) and a suitcase full of costume jewellery, but that would spoil both a surprise and pre-empt a half-written blog. In any case the best way to smuggle a Gibson out of the house while wearing a scarlet coat and carrying a shocking pink cat basket and a suitcase full of costume jewellery can best be summed up in the phrase “get someone else to do it”.

And there’s the rub. You see I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not really a “proper” blogger. If I were, then all the above and more would have been spelt out in graphic detail. Unlike TBFKAMT (”the blogger formerly known as mint-tea”) it’s not that I’m censoring myself to spare my friends - mainly because I don’t have any, or those I do are well used to me being a bloody minded sarcastic stubborn self-righteous bitch. It’s not that I didn’t blog during the past couple of months - I just neglected to finish them. Or to post them when they were finished. Sometimes writing is to share, sometimes it isn’t, sometimes the mind is so confused that the best place for a document is buried in the hard drive and sometimes you’re just so busy trying to snipe a bid past a manic American that you don’t have time to write at all.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 12th, 2005 at 7:54 pm and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.