Help, I’m Alive! (Talk to Me)

I’ve been selfish and silent and sombre, darlings, and I ask you to excuse me.

I’ve been exhausted and spent and absent, never dropping by for tea.

I’ve been overwhelmed to the point of paralysis, and spend my days like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move to save myself.

I can’t write. I haven’t been able to find the time, or when the time presents itself, I’m not interested, or I have a headache, or else I’m upset that everything has to be on writing’s timetable. Writing and I are like lovers with incompatible libidos right now, and there’s a great deal of frustration.

Writing doesn’t know this, but I caught him with his pants around his ankles, ogling the latest volume of McSweeney’s — but that’s alright — I’ve been going to bed early and then tossing and turning with an insatiable desire to write but an inability to consummate.

And so I’m here to say hello, and that I’ve been thinking of you all — I needn’t name names – you are all my darlings and I do try to keep in touch as best I can, and read your wonderful writing first for my enjoyment, and second, as it enhances my own.

But I confess, I’ve never been very good at community, and socializing like some of you seem to do so easily – well, like Mr. Thom Yorke of Radiohead says – It wears me out .

I’m so tired.

So this is a call for interaction. Talk to me, darlings. We so rarely just shoot the shit anymore. I always appreciate your kind words and witty banter in reaction to something I’ve written, but the truth of the matter is, most of what I write is not made for intercourse — it’s performance art; it’s monologue.

So this is me opening the floor. Speak to me. Speak to me in your loudest, most obnoxious tones. Whisper to me the secrets you’ve been wanting to voice. Start a dialogue amongst yourselves. Talk about me behind my back in public. Ask me anything, and I might just answer. Tell me about your day. Relate to me your own frustrations with that fickle lover, Writing. Describe for me the perfect meal to serve to someone you want to impress. Tell me in 100 words or less about your favourite ice cream. Debate with me or others whether or not physical media is dead.

Talk to me. I’m here. I’m listening. I’ve been here, even if you didn’t see or hear me. And I’m always listening.



103 responses to “Help, I’m Alive! (Talk to Me)

    • I actually just pose the macaroni in risqué poses, or make diagrams of cellular mitosis superimposed over pictures of James Dean from Rebel Without A Cause, yelling “you’re tearing me apart!” It’s supposed to be funny, but not in a ‘ha ha’ sort of way I suppose. It’s not something I take seriously — though I have seen people create actual art with macaroni. Alas, not I, darling.

      • Oh, my feeble attempts at macaroni art consisted of flowers and necklaces, which became soggy after a while. Your ideas are so much more outrageous.
        I prefer eating the macaroni, with lots of cheese.
        Good nite… sleep tite!

  1. It’s called Cookie Monster Mash, as far as I know sold only at the Hard Rock Hotel in Orlando, Fl. It’s what happens when Cookies N Cream and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream get together for a night and produce a love child.

  2. I stopped keeping secrets when I moved to a nudist resort my family owns here in Florida. Lived there for 6 years. After that…my whole life just seemed an open book.

  3. Your book just went out, everyone is busily reading it so go play in the sunshine it might help you sleep. I’d began to wonder what happened to you, I’m missing my stories! xo

    • I have the hardest time turning my brain off, especially in the wake of a completed project — because likely I’ve got three other projects on the go (actually, four now that I think about it). I really need to start taking some sort of relaxing drug or something. Perhaps just a glass of wine.

      • Come on over I got relaxing drugs out the ying yang and a bottle of wine too I totally understand not being able to shut off but just remember you still need you down time xo

  4. You are missed also, though never with a sense of impatience for genius takes it’s own sweet time, and it’s own damnable pleasure in doing so, before she righteously brings forth up that which the world and all her mignons are pining for…write when it flows, Darlin’, never force it, for as Hemmingway was oft heard to say, “Eat sober, write drunk.”

  5. Writing and I have also had a dry spell lately. I love blogging, but…TIME. Energy. I comment a great deal though because commrent threads make my balls quiver. In a good way. Balance. I need balance.

    • Somehow your comment got stuck in my spam folder, Nadia, dahlink (you are the only one who gets that — feel special). I’ve come to the realization that I write more than I blog — does that make sense? I would consider a post like this “blogging” — it’s just conversational, and it lends itself to conversation — which is important to gain a community and an audience — but realistically, if I had my way I’d just be a hermit and write write write and just send my writing out into the world to be adored (I suppose part of me IS Jessica, hiding out in the basement writing nasty stories and shunning the world.)

  6. Lol lovely… hmm random chattage.. Well I have this weekend to tie up the rewrites of my pesky MS before sending it for editage. At the beginning of the month I was very deer in the headlightsy about it – spent actual days doing nothing but moving bits of paper around… frustrated & forlorn and wondering why I’d even written it… read and reread the beta feedback while completely inert when coming to doing something about it… then finally pulled out the finger as it were and started fixing things… feel better about it every day now! And hopefully what I send off on the weekend will be less of a muddle… As they say mon amie, things can only get better! beaucoup de love 🙂

  7. Just got home from seeing Johnny Clegg. Good show, until doucheneck yuppie almost spoiled wine on my wife.
    Johnny is getting old and may have lost a step, but man, he still puts out onstage.

  8. I just met the most Canadian Canadian ever. At a crepe shop, of all places. I made a To Do list that is four pages long and counting. For everything I cross off, I add another five things to it. For some reason, I’m enjoying all this. (I must be a sadist.)

    • Yay! There’s a club! Do we get nametags? You know, those “HELLO, MY NAME IS” ones? I can’t help myself, I always always always fill mine in with “Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

  9. Hey there, Lady – I’m late to the party, but I wanted to say Hi! I’m out of touch myself (posting nearly every day notwithstanding – as my faithful imaginary druid would say, blogging is not writing his story).We miss our Dilettante, but understand the need to withdraw every once in a while!

    • Oh, no… keep the party going. We’re going to get crazy Maria Bamford style — maybe break out the organic Fig Newtons and cut pictures out of O magazine. Later we’re having slinky races down the back stairs.

      • Awesome! I am so there. I’m going to rock those slinky races. Provided I can get mine untangled.
        I’ll bring the organic, grass-fed, hand-grown, grain, dairy and sugar free cupcakes – never come to a party empty-handed, I say! 🙂

      • …. that is the most brilliant idea, ever!
        Full disclosure: I have never played twister, so any mad variation of it makes me want to play almost immediately. I’m pretty sure customer service would be far more entertaining if we had a twister mat. And moonshine.

      • Full disclosure right back at you: Moonshine is EVIL. I went to a party with a friend once who had no gag reflex (a fact she proudly toted as the reason her boyfriend loved her…) but the problem with not having a gag reflex is that it makes throwing up a really horrible task — moreso than usual. She had ONE shot of moonshine and was sick for the rest of the night, the poor dear. The noises she made were like something out of Wild Kingdom. Perhaps a wildebeest giving birth or something.

      • Oh I know the evils of moonshine… Irish poitin – the illegal stuff – is the devil. And for my 19th birthday, my bartender created a concoction that contained a shot of everything behind the bar, plus some home-brewed poitin… without telling anyone. I slammed it, collapsed seconds later and have no memory of the night (despite running all over Dublin – after I regained my feet, of course) because, dun dun dun, water makes it worse. Evil. On the plus side, it stays in your system for so long a drink the next day gets you hammered. Since I was broke on my 19th birthday, that was helpful.

      • Ugh.. things that stay in your system to haunt you the next day are the worst. I ate a special brownie one night and then even smoking a cigarette the next day got me high.
        Fun times.

      • It can either be very fun, or very disconcerting, if you’re not expecting it.

        I’m still thinking my next party needs ‘fracked up twister.’ Think it would be too much for a bridal shower?

      • This is true – and considering the average age is going to lend itself more towards tea sandwiches and petits fours, I’ll have to save the twist-tasticness for another day!

  10. This is a fun way to have people stop by. I closed my computer last night and missed the fun till today. Your book arrived yesterday and no I will not be taking a picture and entering a contest. I am looking forward to reading it. The unfortunate part of book launch is the work connected to it. We all can appreciate how busy you are and certainly understand. Have a lovely weekend.

  11. You had me at Radiohead, my dear! I love a bit of deep, meaningful singalongaThomYorke.
    Now I see what’s going on with you. I know what you mean about the star-crossed love affair with writing. Sometimes, it just don’t work, do it (appalling grammar intended). I have to fly to get my train home from work – but you have not been forgotten, Ride the wave, you’ll reach shore eventually xx

    • Can’t seem to get into the right headspace as easily is all. When I do write, it’s good (methinks) but it just takes so much effort! (I know — I’m complaining about it being difficult — boo hoo!)
      Let’s all have a Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong

      • Yes, let’s. I often find my best writing happens when it’s really, really hard. If I’m too happy, I just write crud (in my opinion). The curse of the creative, I think. Be well, my dear!

  12. I fear when we became friends our cycles may have begun to merge. I know this happens. And I should apologize since I have no way to track my natural rhythms since my hysterectomy.I fear the lack of coinciding libido with lover writing might be contagious. I too have this problem regularly. I’ve been having an affair with late night TV lately and writing some sexier poetry then I usually post. Worst of all I confess I haven’t gone to my PO Box where I know your love awaits me. I will fix that today. Then I can curl up with you this weekend.

    • Today’s the first day in almost two weeks that I’m taking the time to really write. With any luck there will be a new Bayou chapter by the end of the day.
      I have not been keeping up with anything. I’m going to be seeing some friends tomorrow for my birthday that I feel like I haven’t seen in months. I hope they remember who I am.

  13. It’s must be the changing of the seasons. I shake my computer with hope that posts will write themselves; however, only a few crumbs from a morning bagel make themselves present.

    Posts turn out differently than I’d like them to, feelings don’t seem to be defined well, and I find myself unbearable when talking to the cute girl sitting next to me.

    It’s spring! We should be feeling refreshed. However, we fall into mannequin mode. There’s a lot in our heads, but we’re just not showing it.

    (Happy early birthday, by the way.)

  14. Sounds like you and I suffer from a similar guilt. Along with a similar weariness to “writing’s timetable.” It’s not “selfish” to just want to write. It’s not like we signed some sort of contract to interact just because we chose to do some of our writing in a blog.

  15. I’m having major time problems at the moment, frantically working through my inbox of posts to read. Maybe work will calm down a bit soon. I hate that people are writing stuff I’m not reading 😦
    And you have had a very busy time of it lately, what with your book launch and all!

  16. I understand, Helena. I’ve been in that place with writing before. Right now I’m having to look for a new job, which is a soul-crushingly demoralizing task too, so I will echo your exhaustion and shout out “We can do it!”
    I have an idea I’m working on that you might like. I’ll send you an email in a few days.

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