It's been a month since I last posted anything and, judging from my blog stats that Typepad so kindly keeps track of, people seem to think I've gone away completely. In the meantime, I've discovered a few great products and terrific songs -- but I've had no one to share them with. Which partly explains why I'm back. Raving about my newest favorite hair product on Facebook can make me seem a tad bit manic, you know?
Another thing I discovered during my absence is that the more friends I add to my Facebook list, the longer I meander and skulk around that site. Obviously, when I'm there I'm not here. At the other place, all my favorite reads, brands, and stores update me with what's hot and new without my having to click over to their own sites as well, which makes me stay there even longer. And when you consider all the photos, links, and videos that my friends share (and which I invariably explore) it's a bit of a miracle that I have any kind of offline life at all.
Sometimes the most intense and interesting conversations I engage in happen over at Facebook chat. And, yes, I've wondered why the other person and I don't simply pick up the phone and actually talk with one another. I suspect that the answer is related to why personal blogs ever became popular in the first place: sometimes it's easier to be so exposed when no one can actually see you doing any real exposing. I tend to think of Facebook chat (as well as any kind of instant messenger communication) as online frottage, or dry-humping: it feels really intimate, the excitement is there, both parties can feel pretty satisfied -- but the connection is still limited because of its very nature.
Many other bloggers I used to share space with have now abandoned their sites for the greater intimacy and immediacy of Facebook. Some of them I can call my friends now -- or at least, they're now my Facebook friends -- and I'm even familiar with how a few of them spend their days (and especially their nights). But I do miss blogging (how old-fashioned the term feels now, 'no?). I miss posting whatever I feel like on my very own space without knowing who might be lurking about -- or if anyone's even still around. Why, I think of many of the stories I've shared over here and realize that all this (relative) anonymity brings along with it so much freedom.
Please pardon my sexual references here tonight, but I suppose blogging, given my reasons for doing it, can sometimes feel like the online equivalent of a zipless fuck. I write, you (hopefully) read, but because I don't really know you're there, I'm not trying to impress or manipulate you. And hopefully, in the end, we both get something out of it.
If you're still reading this, thanks for hanging around. Hopefully, you're also taking a break from Facebook and have decided to catch up with me here instead.