Hi there! It’s been a while. I hope that you’ve been swell. Weather’s sure been nice, hasn’t it? How about those Phillies? You look tan. And taller. And have you lost weight? Anyway, it was great running into you. We should do this more often.
If a real person, the conversation with my blog would go just like that. A run through of that forced awkward script. The one written to keep things moving when encountering a long lost friend from a few chapters back in LIFE: THE HISTORY OF YOU, YOUR THINGS AND THE THINGS THAT YOU’VE DONE. Like that friend my blog is trapped under the heavy pages of things more important that seem to endlessly flip by.
March? That was my last post. That was four months ago. That’s a long time. Hell, that’s longer than my longest relationship. Which is ironic because if I saw my blog on the street I’d probably treat it like it was someone from my last relationship too. I’d busy myself on my iPhone and hope they’d pass by, afraid to show my own shame of neglection. If I were confronted, I’d probably say I’d try harder to stay in touch, but that promise would be as empty as my Grindr inbox.
I tell myself I don’t write as much anymore because I’m bored. My life is stagnant. I’m content. People wouldn’t want to read about that anyway. Blah blah blah. But that’s a lie. Not the bit about people not wanting to read about it. That’s true. Who really cares about the philosophical thoughts of a single 24-year-old gay guy who’s ideal Friday night has turned into a binge session of Bob’s Burgers on Netflix? But the part that I am lying about is the life being stagnant bit. Things have been chugging along. I’m just too lazy and ungrateful to acknowledge it.
But oh no, there it is. I hope it doesn’t see me. Maybe if I just cross the street in time. Oh, it saw me. Here it comes. I can still run if I try…
Me: “Hey! I didn’t even see you over there.”
Blog: “Hey, Zach! It’s been a while. How ya doing?”
Me: “Good. Yea, you know. Good.”
Blog: “That’s good. I’m good, too.”
Me: “So… you look tan.”
Blog: “Yea? Hmm.”
Me: “Enjoying the weather? It’s been beautiful.
Blog: “Yea, a little hot though.”
Me: “Yea, a little too hot.”
Me: “Yea, so what’s up?”
Blog: “Me? Nothing. What’s new with you?”
Me: “New? Uh, nothing really. Been working and stuff.”
Blog: “Yea. Working.”
Blog: ” I think I saw on Facebook though that you were just somewhere?”
Me: “Oh yea. I went to Florida back in March to see my dad. He’s living in St. Augustine. First time I’ve seen him in 10 years.”
Blog: “No, not that. I feel like it was somewhere else. California?”
Me: “Oh, right! Yea I booked a flight to San Francisco for my birthday in April.”
Blog: “By yourself? You should have told me. I’d have loved to come with.”
Me: “Yea, it was really just more of a me kind of thing. An escape as a gift to myself.”
Blog: “But didn’t you just go to Peru in January?”
Me: “Wow, you really have been keeping up with me on Facebook, huh. But yea, hiked to Machu Picchu. Great trip.”
Blog: “Seems like your pretty generous with gifts to yourself.”
Me: “Hah, yea.”
Blog: “Well, anyway, I have to run. But we should do this more often. I miss our talks.”
Me: “Yea, totally. I’ll give you a text.”
Blog: “Alright, Zach. Well it was nice running into you.”
Me: “Bye….. Felicia.”
In that awkward conversation alone I was able to recap four months of my life. It seems pretty sparse, but that’s only because time has already started taking its toll in dulling down the edges of the small details that made each trip unforgettable. Like the llama in Peru that stuck its tongue in my mouth. Or the old man in San Francisco that complimented me on how long my arms were. Or even the fried gator nuggets I had in Florida. When I don’t save my travels by storing their written data in the clouds of the interwebs, I might as well just throw them in the trash been. My point in that forced dialogue is that life has been moving. I’m just too stubborn to admit it.
Of course when I’m comparing it to life a year ago when I was living in South America, days now seem a bit more watered down. But that’s not a fair comparison. The days I had then shouldn’t make my days now feel self-conscious about how they look in the reflective glass of the computer screen. Life is moving. I just have to make sure I stop falling on the excuse of boredom and recognize my lack of personal writing for what it is: laziness. And for that, I am sorry.
Not to you, the readers, because I’m sure with the exception of my mom I was doing you all a favor by removing one less pollutant from your newsfeed by neglecting my blogging. But I’m sorry to my blog. How I’ve treated it over the passed few months has been unfair. It deserves better. And I will treat it better. I’ve let my professional writing relationship in my career snuff out that desire that I once had in my recreational writing relationship. Advertising headline, tag lines and all-important call-to-actions have been my only lovers lately. And that’s one monogamous relationship that I’m ready to put to an end.
Once a week. That’s all. One post. To catch up on life, the universe and everything. Embarrassing failures and victorious feats. Sarcastic evaluations and nostalgic longing. That’s my goal. And that’s my promise to my blog.
And here’s that promises first entry: I just booked a flight to Chicago.
It’s been great catching up. We should do this more often.