is it just me?

or has the blog world gone on vacation as of late? everyone has stopped commenting. matt seems to have disappeared since he went to san francisco. tamara doesn't have time to blog while gallavanting the country. kelly doesn't think she has anything interesting to say.

and i have to admit, as of late, i'm feeling a bit of the blog burnout myself. it's not your fault. really. it's not you. it's me.

the truth of the matter is that i have always been someone for whom writing is cathartic. when i am frustrated with someone, i write them letters i never send. when i feel overwhelmed, i make lists i rarely follow. but something about putting a thought or a feeling into text helps me to process it. the blog has been much the same way, but a little while ago, after six years, i decided that it was time to begin keeping a journal again. a true journal, and not one that is published for the masses.

in the last six years i have tried a couple of times. usually in a digital format. this time i decided i was going back to the archaic way of writing, actually putting a pen to paper and letting the ink flow.

i'm afraid you've gotten the short end of that stick. while it has been doing wonders for me, in addition to being a little more time consuming, i also find that perhaps i am becoming less of an open book than i once was. it's not that i love you any less. really. i am just finally, after 29 years and 10 months, making small progress in the area of knowing when to keep my mouth shut. don't freak out, i said small. but it is something. i am learning better when i should listen instead of speak, and when i should journal instead of blog.

but never fear, though i may be becoming a bit less publicly prolific, i will still continue to do my best to entertain you with my antics.

case in point...when i die, can someone please make sure i end up with one of these?

Talking Tombstone, You Know, For Dead Jokesters

You may be dead, but that doesn’t mean the hijinks need to stop. The Talking Tombstone is quite possibly the most distasteful and tacky addition to any dead person’s repertoire, but, oh man, it could be funny.

Cheer up, you silly mourners, and listen to my deceased voice insult your mother from beyond the grave. This tombstone will set you—or your life insurance company—back $5,000. But that isn’t too bad considering you are getting the last word, for all eternity. Oh ho!– Travis Hudson