Thursday, April 21, 2005
Warning: The following post exemplifies everything that those who are inclined to hate blogs really, really hate. It is housecleaning at its sloppiest and most self-indulgent. All appropriate viewer discretion warnings apply here.
Dear friends,
Those of you who know me well, which, happily, is just about everyone who comes to visit, know that while I joke a lot about being a drama queen, I have a fear of actually being a drama queen. I have a bad habit of taking on more than I can chew, and I am loath to ask for help. I'm a dab hand at telling other people that they should get the help they need, and not struggle unnecessarily, but I am bafflingly, frustratingly incapable of following my own advice. Don't ask me why asking for help is smart and reasonable behavior in other people, but drama-queeny, attention-getting behavior in me. Those of you who spend a lot of time with me IRL -- you know who you are -- know that I am ever so slightly, just a tiny bit, nuts. If by now you are thinking that I should just get to the goddamn point already, you're right; I am protesting too much because it's important to me that you know that if I could just soldier on as always, like the Brave Little Toaster, I would.
In exactly 10 days, Lloyd and I leave for Scotland. Since I will be offline for the first two weeks of May, my plan was to call on all of those delightful folks who kept this space lively and fun while I was in Arkansas last summer, and invite them to resume guestblogging. I had also planned to open up the call for anyone else who was not part of last summer's raucous caucus, but would like to be part of this one; just let me know if you're interested, and I'll send you an invitation to guestblog from the good folks at TypePad. All this would take effect May 1, the day that Lloyd and I leave.
Dear friends, there is a lot going on at Chez PTMYB, but as I also have a fear of this space turning into what my pal Tristan calls a "Today I ate a burrito. I hate my job at the library" blog. (In my mind, I'm hearing a line from "New York Social Life" by Laurie Anderson, in which a friend describes a call-in radio show he's producing, all about why people in the city can't make emotional connections with each other: "But at the top of every show, we're going to say, 'Now, don't call in with your personal problems, because we don't want to hear them!'"
I will leave it at this: I am having terrible problems at work, problems that are bleeding over into my own life (although, thankfully, Lloyd is as sweet, stalwart and loving as he has been from the day I met him), which, unfortunately, includes my writing life. Call it writer's block, call it running out of steam, call it the end of a really good run, but I am out of words, just out of them. If it were just a matter of blog fatigue, I would be a bit more philosophical, but it's not just blog fatigue: I have PTMYB, I have the egg project (which, granted, is still in an information-gathering stage), I have three articles I'm writing on spec for various food publications, I have letters, long-owed, never sent, from people who want to know why I can't take a little time to talk to them. There is an intriguing new contest brewing over at Michael's, there is a brand-new foodie thread at Plastic. There is a veritable playground of words in which I desperately want to play, but I can't, I just can't. At one point, I even found myself with my finger hovered over the nuclear "delete PTMYB?" button -- and again, dear friends, I am embarrassed to admit this, because it sounds so, well, drama-queeny -- but in the back of my mind I know that eventually this whole miasma will pass. I just don't know how it will, or when, or if I will still have friends patient enough to wait for me.
So, dear friends, I am hereby throwing the field open, not waiting until I head to Scotland first. If you have guestblogging access and a burning desire to share something, please feel free to do so. If you would like guestblogging access, click on that nifty "e-mail me" link to the right and I will get you set up sharpish. (Note: that e-mail address links to an account I can't access from work, so if you don't hear from me till the end of the day, do not be alarmed.)
It occurs to me that once I hit "post" on this little whinge, the creative floodgates will break open, I'll be posting six times between now and Saturday, and I will be dead embarrassed at this naked, needy display of mine. You know that if that happens, I will throw myself upon your mercy and promise to never, ever, ever do that again. For now, though, the day in front of me is not rich with promise, and from the vantage point of my lumpy, uncomfortable chair, the odds of a miracle are so small as to require a particle accelerator to be seen.
Dear friends, I can't tell you how embarrassed I am. I would not blame you if you threw your hands up and took your blogrolling business elsewhere. But I hope you don't.
I’ve been making a lot of I-ate-a-burrito posts myself. Maybe you should go blog at my place and I should blog at yours. Or something.
But Snow, you don’t have an “I-ate-a-burrito” blog. Sure, you write about what you’ve had for lunch, but you also write about what you’re knitting, what you’re reading, the lives of the people around you, the lives of other bloggers, your vast store of pop culture knowledge, your observations on the news, and all manner of amusing quizzes. (Has anyone written the “What Quiescently-Frozen Dessert Snack Are You?” quiz yet?)
Besides, there’s just something about the way you write that imbues even what you consider a quotidian post with wisdom and grace. Stop looking at me like that. It’s true.
First, I want to pat you on the back for a creative and constructive solution to the miasma problem. I have to admit you had me filled with dread all the way up to the end when the light appeared at the end of the tunnel.
Anyway, I think this is an excellent idea and I’m sure I can ‘rassle a post or two into submission over the next few weeks.
Second, I had tacos for lunch and I generally love my job.
Third, sorry about work. But maybe this is a message to you to give it all some serious soul searching over the next few weeks. Spring is springing. A time for new beginnings. Etc.
I always love you, but some days, like today, I love you even more. Mwah! I’d offer to guestblog but I’ve trouble keeping up my own lately. Enjoy your trip 
I can’t keep up my own blog worth a damn, but I’d be happy to guest-wax poetic about a lunch or 2 while you’re gone.
Like another blogfriend who laments his loss of blog-libido, I hear the frustration in your voice. Is there Viagra for blogs? *grin*
Maybe after you return from Scotland, there will be a new fresh vision on the horizon for PTMYB. Give it a while. I think a lot of us have come to realize that writing itself is a job, whether you are paid monetarily or by cyber-hugs, it still comes down to another responsibility, albeit one we took joyously at the beginning.
I have an acquaintance who keeps what she calls a blog, but it amounts to about a paragraph every 2 weeks, typically about the proverbial burrito. I had to laugh when she recently wrote that she would not be blogging much now that the weather has turned nice and I just thought, “girl, you have never been blogging much--you don’t even know what blogging IS!” YOU, on the other hand, know what blogging is. I am always amazed how much thought you put into your entries--and always so well written, with so much of your personality shining through. How have you EVER found the time, with all the other things you do? I salute you--and all the other bloggers I read. I am often exhorted by blogging friends to join in on the fun, but I am intimidated by all your examples--I could never do it justice. Instead, I will just keep on enjoying everyone else’s! Hang in there, and have a great trip.
I’m game, dear Bakerina. I’ve recently purchased the Hess book (on your recommend of course) and have started a three week food history course with Joe Carlin of the Culinary historians of Boston as well as contributor to the new Oxford Encyclopedia of Food in America. I’ve got a peper due in three weeks (same week as my practicum, same week as my midterm (ARGHGHGHGH!) and who better to test it out on than your fair audience. I shall be spending some quality time with Miss Parloa, Mrs Fisher and Hannah Glass.
Besides I’ve spent a good deal of time in blighty as well as Scotland and let me tell you I am green, GREEN, with envy at your impending trip.
jo
Pish, tush, you are not a drama queen, you are just ovewhelmed. Been there. Done that. It will be okay.
Now you are not allowed to touch this blog again, or read another word written yourself, until, um, June? That oughta do it. If not, then July. By then you’ll be begging to come back, you’ll miss us. Not as much as we’ll miss you, of course, but that’s different. Work sucks, by the way. It’s not you; it just does.
You can write emails, that would be an okay idea. One-on-one communication if you like, without threat or promise of publication. That would be okay. You’ve got everybody’s addys, right? Ciao.
oh, bakerina!
first, can i say how sad it makes me to ERASE my url from this comment field? my hope is to become a guestboolger on your site, and use that platform to make my spiffy new website debut a huge success! is that too whorish? would you mind too terribly much?
i’m not sure if i ever told you how much i regretted not asking to be a guestblogger during your arkansas trip, so now, i’m on my knees begging to be given the honor. pretty please? two cups of sugar? accompanyment to the UC davis ag center? i’m already feeling weak in the knees with excitement. i may piddle.
and? you are one of the most steady and dependable quality bloggers i have ever seen. i’m sure this scotland blog-breather will be just the cure for your writing malaise.
love,
tristan
Hey stinkbutt ...
(in no paticular order)
1. No freaking out allowed. Bigger badder-assed stuff could come up and you’d be more than mildly ticked off at yourself for spending your entire energy batch on this. So stop. I mean it. I’ll whomp you. What, you don’t think I could take you down, drama queenie?
2. I’m not big into excessively verbal blogs my own self, but I DO do the photo blogging (as you do already know). I would be glad to make contributions in my own pecul-- umm, particular way toward the general upkeep of your site iff’n you’d like.
3. I emailed you.
4. *smooch*
But, um, Jen? Even when you’re writing about your writing block, the prose is delectable. You’re great, honey. Just take yourself a little break, and whenever you feel like coming back, I’ll wager everyone will be around to clap and hoot and holler with joy…
Oh please don’t ever delete your blog. We all suffer burnout from time to time.
And, Snowball, what are you talking about. I just did a site search of your blog, and not once does the word “burrito” appear.
Hang in there dear Bake, we all go through slumps. A trip to Scotland will do you good, and give you a plethora of things to about which to blog.
all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy all work and no play make jack a dull boy
Hah! You will come back from Scotland with tales to tell and anxious ears and eyes awaiting your re-enactments and dramatizations! We shall be on the edge of our various seats anticipating tales of haggis eating and kilt wearing, sheep lovin Scotsmen. We shall be enthralled to hear if ye took the high road or the low road.
For all the “drama queeniness” you forever bemoan, it is all far more welcome than the solitude I have endured these past 2 months. You know you are indeed the very best blogger that exists on this planet. (All other qualifying competitors are out of this world, if you know what I mean.)
Anyway lots of virtual nmihugs for you, enjoy your Scottish adventure, and know that I eagerly await your return.
- nmiguy
Dear Bakerina-
It will get better. The clouds will part and there will be little flashes of gorgeous prose flickering across your brain in no time. After many months of feeling exactly as you do I’m finally starting to feel I can write something down again myself. This “aha” came as I lead a tour of the Union Square Farmer’s Market in the rain yesterday. All that talk of ramps and fiddleheads gave me a jolt I hadn’t expected.
Have a wonderful time in Scotland - try to walk out in the fields in the rain with those marvelous sheep and hang with the locals - it’s pretty easy to do in the Callender area. It’s lambing season right now and it used to be that you could barter a little free cooking for the sheep herders in exchange for an impromtu Ceilidh.
Looking forward to reading PTMYB for a long time to come 
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I’ve been making a lot of I-ate-a-burrito posts myself. Maybe you should go blog at my place and I should blog at yours. Or something.