Why blog?

Over the past few days I’ve been watching a comments thread blow up into this massive derail where eventually people just starting really freaking out and saying really awful things to each other. I’ve refrained from commenting myself, despite the strong urge to pipe in (for no good reason, I might add), but I’ve been watching it all unfold like a really slow trainwreck. And even though I didn’t end up personally hurt or offended by jumping into the fray, nonetheless it’s gotten me thinking again about whether this whole blogging thing is really worthwhile.

I mean, at its worst, blogging can be really alienating. Internet anonymity can truly bring out the worst in people, from vicious slurs to crazy site attacks to threats that spill over into real life. And I sometimes wonder if all this venom going back and forth can do anything but get in the way of productive discourse. Are we really all just sitting around at our keyboards, wasting life away while we pwn each other from afar?

But then I think about how I started reading blogs. If it weren’t for Feministe and Feministing I might not identify as a feminist. Because I’m not a big news consumer, I never would’ve found out about a lot of things going on in the world. If I hadn’t started reading Dooce I might not have wanted to blog myself, and I never would’ve been linked by one of the bloggers I admire and respect the most.

There isn’t really a Grand Point to this post. I wish there were a little more kindess in the world, and a little more civility online. I hope we’re actually engaging in coalition-building. I know that every time someone comments here, I get a little thrill. I love knowing that someone somewhere far away is thinking about the same things that I am, even for just a moment.

(Yes, this is the “I love you guys” part of the post, and I haven’t even been drinking. This entry has officially jumped the shark.)

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A recent post over at Dooce (1000+ comments!) has gotten me thinking, yet again, about depression. One of the things I love about Dooce is that she talks openly about her own depression in the hopes that talking about it might snowball into lots of people talking and the whole damn thing not being accompanied by such silence and social stigma. But while her post is all about taking medication, mine is about willfully avoiding it.

I’m eating Jell-o for breakfast.

It’s the American dream! Well, not really, because this is CVS brand gelatin snack, not Jell-o brand gelatin snack. I’m eating the American dream that’s four for a dollar.

Anyway, I’m back. For the two of you who expressed a mild dislike for my absence: thank you. Your mild dislike has truly, truly moved me.

For the record, I’m back to blogging here, but I’m going to continue to take a break from reading (most) other blogs. I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t be able to just read posts and ignore the comments, and since lately comment threads only raise my blood pressure, I figured I’d stick to bacon and save myself the grief. You may notice a new addition to my blogroll, however, and I can’t stress its importance enough. Read Dooce!

Moving on. Some exciting things have been happening over here in my little corner of the globe. For instance, there’s Steve. Steve is my new electric guitar. Should I happen to figure out the contraption you kids call a “digital camera,” there’s a chance you may see a picture of him and the ladies, Sheba and Artemesia (classical and electric acoustic, respectively), but for now just know that I am a person with more guitars than pairs of clean underwear. I do plan to do laundry this weekend, though. I swear.

I’ve also been granted permission to audit a class at my alma mater (how weird! I have one of those!) in the fall, which excites me greatly because it will be a class I actually want to be taking. It may even stimulate my brain and make those library classes more bearable. We can always hope. Anyway, it’s a course on gender and performance, taught by the wonderful woman responsible for me taking a seminar with Judith Halberstam (swoon) last year. I’m greatly looking forward to it, and I can only assume the reading list (Bornstein, Butler, Halberstam [swoon], etc.) will provide fodder for new writing here.

And, finally, we’re now at T-minus 21 days until I depart for another whirlwind tour, this time of Idaho and San Francisco. Hopefully this time I’ll get my act together and take a bazillion pictures, which used to be my typical behavior any time I took a trip. (Remember the two rolls of film from the very first day I was in Mexico? Yes, I know you don’t, but trust me, they’re boring.) I was sadly remiss in Oregon last winter, but never again!

Anyway, I’d like this blog to be a relaxing place for me. And for you, the two readers. In that spirit, my first post-hiatus “serious post” subject is, naturally, McDonald’s.