The Coolest Joe I know brought up an interesting point the other day when he wrote about updating even when you don't have anything too terribly important to say. On the one hand, I agree that I do have times where I don't have exciting things to report (read: almost every day) yet still write a post anyway - that's more due to my journaling nature than to an obligation to this blog; if anything I feel apologetic to anyone who reads this when I'm more boring than usual. But in that same vein, he brought up another valid point: worrying about your regular bloggers when they haven't posted for awhile. Though it seems weird at first - worrying about someone you've never met - it's totally real and I've experienced it firsthand.
Back in the Dark Ages of blogging, back when it was still called "online journaling" and Diaryland was where I found most of my blogging entertainment, I came across this guy in the San Francisco area, "Harold." This guy was DARK and some of his writing was a little disturbing. But he was also really funny and I looked forward to his posts, which for awhile there was every day or close to it. He lived alone, worked in some mundane job he was way too intelligent for and seemed to be pretty much a recluse. You would think that would make for a boring blog, but no - like I said, the guy was a witty genius, especially when he talked shit about people, which was often. Sometimes I'd worry a little if he posted a particularly dark or cryptic update, but then it would pass and things would be good again.
Back then I was too shy to even think about commenting or contacting him, even though I wanted to badly tell him how his writing added to my life, for whatever it was worth. Then one day he posted something like, "Screw this; good-bye Diaryland; good-bye everything." Not word for word, but that was the gist of it. I thought, oh shit. At that point, I did try to email him with some lame message like I hoped everything was okay and that I wished him the best, but of course it was too late by that point and either he didn't get it or he ignored it. It's been a good five years since all that and I still hope maybe I'll run across him again somewhere in the blogosphere. Silly.
And Harold isn't the only person I've lost along the way; there have been others.
So lookie here: it would be unfathomable should that ever happen with pretty much any one of the blogs I read currently. For the most part, after Laura offered at some point last summer and I somehow got the balls to do a guest post on Snerkology I was lucky enough to meet a slew of people I've come to consider FRIENDS, DUDE. All of whom I CARE about with real FEELINGS. I mean, I feel totally weird if Heather and I go more than a day without emailing each other! We've never met, but does that mean her friendship means any less to me? No it most certainly does not. It's true I'm a Jew who probably worries way more than is necessarily healthy, but the thought of one of you posting some quick good-bye shit without any explanation scares the living bejesus (whatever that is) out of me. So don't even think about it unless you've cleared it with me first and left plenty of accurate contact information.
In other news, I've decided to tan (used as a verb, as in "I Summer in the Hamptons" or "I Lunch with rich snobby people" - "I'm going Tanning at the salon") because of a free offer I couldn't pass up. I figure what the hell else do I have to do in the interim before receiving my next baby-injection, which won't be for another week or so. I feel better when I'm tan, or as tan as I get anyway, and hey - three cheers to feeling better, right? Plus remember, I gave up smoking - I had to replace it with something unhealthy. Remind me to tell you about the short story I once wrote about a girl who gets fried to death in a tanning bed. My writing teacher at the time told me it would've been a great story had the perspective not been from the dead girl. THEN AMERICAN BEAUTY CAME OUT, AN AWARD-WINNING MOVIE WHOSE STORY WAS TOLD BY THE DEAD KEVIN SPACEY CHARACTER, MOTHERFUCKER! Anyway, it was a fun story to write. I have it somewhere.