I was reminded of while going over my posts this year (in order to answer that "where I slept in 2010" meme) was how little I actually wrote while I was away from home. Every day there were a host of events to post about, yet I was much too busy living through the events to say much about them. It's clear I'd need to set aside several hours at the end of each day to key them all in and post in order to really do them justice; several hours which in my life as I live it now I simply spend experiencing more. That, or I'd need to have someone travel with me who would write it. And who would do that? And wouldn't I just end up having experiences with them instead? In any case, that would fail to be me writing.
I don't think this is a problem for me as a life lived, but it does make me feel like I leave a lot unsaid that I'd like to have said.
The other thing I noticed about blogging was how so much of human events seemed to be a lot of boredom and routine without notable incident, until very suddenly it all changed. This was true in the financial crisis, where the markets were cooking along until they abruptly seized up. It was also tragically true in Bangkok this spring.
"As it turned out," my friend AA said when I saw her later, "you got out just in time."
I feel like telling that story, but I've now tried blogging it twice, and I haven't been satisfied with either attempt.