The Holy Roman Empire is neither Holy, nor Roman. Nor an Empire. Discuss.

So I’ve been a little verklempt lately.  I suppose it's time for me to explain myself.

If you've been reading for any period of time, you've probably noticed that my posts can generally be grouped into the following categories: Shit That Amuses Me, Shit That Pisses Me Off, and Shit That Makes Me Very, Very Sad.  Sometimes, I can even manage to be Very, Very Sad about something that Pissed Me Off and tell you about it in an Amusing manner.  I’m a good little multi-tasker.

I put things out there - it's who I am.  Talking about my shit helps me deal with it, and for some reason, talking about it publicly is much more cathartic than writing it in some squirreled-away journal that only I can see.  But I try to only put my shit out there to the people who will care to read about it - if you're here, it's because I told you how to get here, or you were curious enough to try to find me, or you Googled something one day and found either something that amused you or a trainwreck you couldn't look away from.  I have a Facebook friend (who is really just an acquaintance) who puts all of her shit right there in her feed - between her status updates and notes, I know how nasty her divorce has been, what medication she is on, and just how often she drinks for the wrong reasons.  These are things I don’t know her well enough to know, and never asked to know – it just comes to me.  This is what is known as Oversharing.  I don't smear my neuroses all over the Facebook feeds of 250 people on a daily basis.  My psyche is more like a speakeasy - you have to either be invited, or at least try to figure out the password, secret knock, and supercool handshake.

So why haven’t I been writing?  Well, it started for good reasons.  Last fall, I was just too damned busy to write.  Running a course I had never taught before for over 100 students meant that between lecture prep, lab supervision, and answering the constant e-mails from students and TAs I was working 50-60 hour work weeks, sometimes more.  And loving it.  Add about 2.5 hrs of commuting time every day, and the occasional bit of socializing, and there’s just not much time left to write pithy observations about the meaning of life or the vast metaphysical paradox known as Tila Tequila.  It also doesn’t leave much time for searching for a new job come the end of the semester.  Not that there are many academic jobs that start in the middle of the year anyway.  But I digress.

And since then…well…most of my life just hasn’t been For Public Consumption.  I used to have a fairly no-holds-barred, warts-and-all approach to talking about my life, but when everyone’s conversational opener at every social occasion is, “so how’s the job search going?” I really don’t feel the need to explain yet ANOTHER time that it fucking sucks.  And I think you all might understand why I’m now keeping my personal life…well…personal.  As entertaining as the soap opera of all of my crushes and near-misses has probably been, it’s not really something I want to put out there at this particular time in my life.

The problem with all of this is, in addition to the complete silent treatment you’ve all been receiving, I have now completely lost track of who might still be reading, and what you might want to read about.  And I miss writing.  And quite frankly, I’m starting to go nuts and feel as though I might require something more stimulating than the Tyra show to keep my days occupied.  So I’m going to try something I attempted once before and never fully succeeded at.  We’re going to try All-Request-Week again.  Except this time, I will write on any and every topic* you people suggest.  I can’t guarantee they’ll all be long.  I can’t guarantee they’ll all be good.  But at least they will all BE.  And I think that will be good for me.

Talk amongst yourselves.  Give me a topic.

 

*Excluding aforementioned verboten topics.  Any subject matter that falls under categories including but not limited to: Jobs, Boys, Boys with Jobs, or Giving Jobs (of any sort) to Boys will be immediately disqualified.