When I opened it I was amazed to see how many of you crazy, wonderful people are out there still stopping by to see what I might have to say.
So it feels like I ought to get official about this: it's time for the blog to take a wee nap. Or for me to take a wee nap and break from the blog.
I've been caught up in life and in other writing, and I've been feeling a disconnect from the process; I always wanted blogging to be a conversation, and over the last year or so, it feels a lot like I'm blahblahblahing out into the void (my own fault for sure, since i've been so sporadic with postings) ... but that's created a bit of a Catch-22, and it's one that has me less inspired to keep going.
I hope that by making this "nap" official, I'll take the time to recharge and rethink what I might want for the future of ze blog, and when I come back (i can't see walking away entirely), I'll have a renewed bit of energy and vision for it. (... and maybe when that happens, you'll say hi/chime in/play with me ...)
And until then, take good care of yourselves ... and hopefully I'll be "talking" to you again soon.
So many end-of-year commentaries I've read are focusing on the end of a decade (but i wonder: how is THIS the end of the decade? isn't the end of '10 the end of the decade?) (but i digress ...)
Today a friend on Facebook posed the question: "What do you remember about 10 years ago that seems so different now?" He was referring mostly to tech stuff ... like: 10 years ago we were using VHS tapes to watch videos and catch up on our favorite television programs, and we bought CDs and used Walkman's, and now we download music to our iPods ... that sort of thing. But I realize that 10 years ago to today feels even more radical than that techie stuff for me: 10 years ago I was living in Berkeley, and I celebrated the New Year with two of my good friends with champagne and munchies by the fireplace in my living room.
Now I live in NJ and it's snowing and cold (and for those of you who read here regularly-ish, you know how much i HATE the cold ...) ... but I will be celebrating tonight with a sleepover with the Beaners making and decorating cookies (and making a mess, i'm sure), playing Wii bowling and trying (and hopefully failing) to stay up until midnight. Chaos, cuddles and cookies ... what could be better?
I definitely miss CA, but this takes the cake. (and the cookies)
I'm not the sort of blogger who lives and dies by how many comments she gets on any given post (and thank god for that, huh? i'd be SOL since you're all so quiet these days), but I KNOW you're out there (i've seen the stats) and I'm wildly curious about who you are.
You folks out in CA ... are you old buds from when I lived there? Do I know you at all? How 'bout you Aussies; did I know you from my years in Sydney? Or did you just wander here by some wonderful fluke? And the readers from Singapore, Canada and India, and the ones who pop in from time to time from Japan and Greece: how did you find me? You in Illinois, Texas, Pennsylvania, Washington, Maine, Mississippi, Nebraska, Arkansas, New York and Ohio ... what brought you here? And you many Jersey peeps ... do I know you? What makes you come visit? And why do you keep coming back? ('specially after all my periods of quiet?)
If you don't want to comment publicly, then how 'bout shooting me an email: deborahcooperman (at) aol (dot) com? I'm really curious and would love to know a little more about the people who are reading (and why they're reading ...). Come out, come out wherever you are.
(hey, my bday's coming up in less than a week: think of it as a bday prezzie ...)
Off to a great start on the every-day-of-vacation-posting (not).
The boiler at Chez Coop kicked out on Christmas Eve; oy, what a fun adventure. (daaamn) I'd called the plumber on the morning of the 23rd cause I'd noticed the ancient appliance was needing more water in it every couple of days - as opposed to its usual every 5 - 7 day regime - but he was backed up with appointments in advance of the holidays, and since it wasn't an emergency, we decided he'd come over after. Luckily, he gave me his emergency number just in case anything went wrong.
When the BF and I came back from an energetic concert in NYC on Xmas eve, the house was really cold - the thermostat read 57 degrees. Uh oh. I went down the basement to check things out, and the heater was clearly kaput - no heat, no pilot light (yeah, it's a REALLY old system ...) but it was nearly midnight - too late to call the plumber (as if calling on Xmas day would be way better), but with the thermostat reading just 52 in the morning, I decided this was the sort of situation those emergency numbers were for ... and god bless Mr. Plumber Man: he came out on Xmas day and fixed the old sucker.
I'm one of those people who gets cold when it's 65 degrees, so I never take heat for granted in the winter time, but I was beyond thankful when the old generator was replaced and I heard that comforting whoosh from the flame popping back on, and the radiators began clinking and hissing in steamy bliss.
Once Mr. Plumber Man was finished restoring the house to warmth, I got on the road (several hours later than i'd planned) and headed south on a mini-road trip to meet up with my bestest friend from CA days (who now lives in NC) at a half-way-ish spot not far from DC. Neither of us celebrates Xmas, but the gift of each others presence for two days was a celebration of sorts. There were hours of conversation, yummy chow and yummy wine, a walk in the misty (but not cold) rain, a Wii bowling tournament (a very close 2 out of three, but in the end, she prevailed), an under-the-covers viewing of In Bruges (what a great flic; how did i miss that before now?), and a few more hours of conversation.
Yesterday I (and the rest of the east coast's Xmas weekend travelers) returned home. The NJ Turnpike was a bit of a nightmare, but the sky was clear and the weather was mild, so I kept my window open as the traffic inched from Exit 6 to Exit 8, and pulled out my trusty bubbles, blowing them out the window of my car as I listened to one of my better uplifting iPod mixes and did my best to chill during the 30something miles that I crawled up the Turnpike.
Home by about 4:30, and in bed by around 7 (my health is improving, but i still get draggy after a couple of days of back-to-back activity).
And today there were errands to run, a (warm) house to clean, and plans to firm up with family and friends who are visiting from out of town. Even with the detours of a boiler on the fritz and slow holiday traffic, I could get used to this pace.
Over a month where I've left you loyal few to wonder what the hell I'm doing ...
Well, maybe I just wanted to make sure that all of you saw the post about Summer's book so you'd buy it. (huh? maybe i was being clever like that?)
More likely I'm still in that weird funk I think of as blog-blahs.
But I am on vacation until January 4th (weee), I'm not a Christmas celebrator, and I just have a few visits with friends here and there, so there will be a lot of chillaxing and down time ... so I thought I'd push myself to a little muscle building with a few words every day just cuz.
If you're working a day job and feel like your "real life" happens in the margins, Summer's book will give you the juice to turn that perspective on its ass.
And yeah, I know I haven't actually read the book yet, but I've known the fabulous Summer Pierre since my early days playing around in blog-land, and I remember talking with her after the "media fast" that birthed the Artist in the Office 'zine, that in turn birthed the book of the same name. (and, oh yes, i've got my personally signed copy of said fabulous 'zine ...)
I also know that Summer's been LIVING this process for years producing art and writing and music and an artful life. I can't frikkin WAIT to get my copy.
It's not available until February, but you can pre-order it NOW (and for under 12 bucks). (go get yours now!)
There's a little park not far from my home with a brook (and way too many ducks), tennis courts, baseball diamond and a kids playground; when I go walking, I often include a trip through the park, and usually wind up circling the playground a couple of times, hoping the little ones will get off the swings so I can have a go (and trying not look like some lurking perv who goes to kids playgrounds without a kid in the process).