"I love reading your blog," my Aunt Laine mentions as we're chit-chatting in the park, waiting for Holman family photos to be taken.
"I hardly ever write it," I admit, slightly embarrassed.
"But when you do, it's awesome," she smiles.
And then another month or more went by. Looking back, my last post was in May. No June. No July. Where have I been? What have I been doing all summer?
The answer is nothing. Not a damn thing. I was going to read a lot over the summer. I'm two-thirds of the way through a memoir called This Boy's Life by Tobias Wolff. I've been reading bits and pieces of it for months. I was going to write a lot, with the ambition of finishing another draft of my ongoing novel. Nope. I was even going to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo (the summer version of November's National Novel Writing Month), but I didn't. I reworked the first few chapters for the umpteenth time and that's about it. Do I want to tell the thing in first person or third?? I can't decide! I was also going to draw another season of Chihuahua Comics, chronicling my relationship with Brian and our marriage (since the character versions of us haven't technically been married yet), but I roughly sketched out the first few panels and decided I didn't have time. And who reads it anyway?
Maybe that's also why I haven't written on the ol' blog. Who the hell reads it anyway? And even if some of you do, does it matter? What's the point of documenting my life here on the interwebs? What's the point of sharing photos or anecdotes or comics or poetry? Maybe that's my problem. I just don't seem to get the point.
I turned 28 last Wednesday. To some of you, 28 isn't very old. I still have my youth. My whole life before me. That's what some say. But to me, 28 feels very old. 28 feels like I'm holding onto the leash of some very large dog that comically takes off after a cat and drags me along behind scraping in the mud. The audience laughs. There's going to be a sequel. But I can't shake the feeling that I should have accomplished more in part one. I'm not ready for part two. I feel like I should be something by now.
But what should I be? Or better yet, who?