Here’s the thing: I haven’t blogged much this summer because I haven’t wanted to.
Yep, here I am, a blogger, admitting that sometimes blogging sucks. Sometimes it’s really fun, though! You know, when you’re inspired or doing lots of things you think others will think are cool or when you have loads of things to say. The truth is, none of these things are happening right now. I’m not inspired, at least not to talk about Spain, and when I do a post about what has been really fun, practically no one responds. (See my last post.) But, as an experiment, I’ve come up with a list of reasons why I choose not to blog sometimes:
My readers won’t find it interesting.
This happens a lot. Fortunately, most of the time I just blog about it anyway, because I’m not really concerned with gaining blog popularity or getting to 1000 followers on Instagram (crazy laughter, ’cause that’ll never happen).
It might cause unnecessary controversy.
Things I shouldn’t blog about: I don’t like Barcelona (the city or the team), some days I hate myself for being one of those expat blogs, or why I stopped reading _______’s blog. If you want to know more, email me.
The few posts that have caused controversey give me headaches, because I don’t like defending myself online. Blog comments can sometimes be horribly misconstrued, because sarcasm doesn’t translate well to WordPress or Disqus comment sections, am I right?
Ugh, that would take much more work than I’m willing to put in.
My life is not that interesting.
I know many people who fantasize about living in Europe. (Why always Europe and not a specific country?!) They’ve been there for a semester or a few weeks and think they know the place, think they’d want to make it their home. Well, maybe they do … but most likely they were suffering from what I like to call “vacation syndrome,” in which one travels somewhere on vacation and then thinks life would always be like that there. Nope!
News flash, crazy 20-somethings, Spain is not a permanent vacation even if they do sometimes drink beer before noon or take naps. It’s real life—it’s paying bills, filing your taxes, dragging groceries home from the store without a car, commuting an hour to work, washing clothes and hanging them out to dry, figuring out what to do when your heat stops working … It’s life! And if you’re married/dating a Spaniard, you also need to deal with in-laws—just in another language! I’m not complaining. Just sayin’.
How many posts about “Top 10 ______” do we really need?
I’m really seven years old at heart, so when I read “Top 10 ______”, I often do a mental eyeroll. (Is that possible? Of course it is.) I even do it when I write my own lists. People like lists! People freaking love top-10 lists! So I write them, but sometimes I really wish I weren’t that susceptible to Internet peer pressure. Because how do you know the top 10 beaches? Have you visited all of them? The top 10 slang words? Says who, from which region? I suppose if you wrote “My Top 10 _______”, I’d be less likely to do that mental eyeroll.
All of this to say: Guys, I’m not writing, but don’t worry … because you’re only missing these crazy machinations you see above, a.k.a. not much. In other me-related news, summer is more than halfway over and I’ve only visited California for the first time, hiked a crazy 10-mile hike, gone to Yosemite and hiked up North Dome, not gotten a permit to hike Half Dome, visited Sonoma and Napa, drank beer on Sand Harbor beach on Lake Tahoe, kayaked on Lake Tahoe with my sister-in-law, seen the Pacific Ocean for the first time, canned crazy amounts of tomatoes, made my first-ever homemade Bernaise sauce to great success, and gotten really great news from the U.S. government (!!). That’s all, really. Not a lot, right?