Talking to myself

I don't know what's wrong with me.  It's not hard to post to notCinnamon:  it's not like I'm not at my computer 13 hours a day.  I'm here, it's my homepage, and yet....the thing is this.  You know before call waiting, the predicament you'd feel about answering the phone?  It could be your best friend with unexpected shopping cash, it could be your ex boyfriend (bad news), it could be Ed McMahon with 2 million dollars (probably not).  Before call waiting, did you answer? 
I seem to have inherited my dad's hatred for the phone.  Which is funny, because if you've ever talked to me on the phone, it's because I REALLY wanted to talk to you.  And we probably talked for a long time, right?  Maybe even past the point where you wanted to talk to me?  Probably.
The rest of the time, I avoid the phone.  I will text.  I will email.  It's not personal.  It's not you, it's me.  Seriously.  A lot of the time, I don't even bother to see who's calling.  It's just that I'm not talking.  Horrible.  Especially now, with Facebook, and cellphones, and smart phones and IM'ing, and ohmygod instant communication...I don't communicate sometimes.  Usually I get in this rut for extended periods of time.  I just won't talk to people.  I'm not in a hole or anything...I'm shopping, I'm cooking, I'm showering and grooming myself.  I'm just not able to make a phone call.  Can't do it. 
Is this weird?  I have no idea.  Do other people do it?  Hard to know.  What branch of crazy, exactly, is this?  Dunno.
But, it's like that with a blog entry.  A blog entry, for me, anyway, is an extended conversation.  I'm telling you what's going on.  It's hard, sometimes, to construct that conversation.  Some one recently told me that they like my blog because it's written like I talk.  (Wait, is that a compliment?!)  But it is, and the style isn't an accident.  I talk as I write.  Is it funny?  Is the timing right?  Is it like banter?  Banter is hard to write in a one-way conversation, but I sometimes imagine it, work on it. 
When it's going well, I love it.  I could blog every hour.  I could tell you a million stories.  Good ones, too. 
But when I don't want to talk.  It's agony.  I look at notCinnamon and see the last entry was nearly a month ago, and I just open a new window.  It's not like stuff isn't going on.  We've ALWAYS got action over here.  But turning our chaos into a story is something that can't be done right now.
It makes me sad.  I know it makes my fans mad.  All three of them.
In an effort to make the gaps less glaringly obvious, I've decided to change the format of my blog somewhat.  I'm going to post things that make me laugh, that I'm doing, that I see, even if those things aren't accompanied by a story, an entry, a conversation.  Most of the time, the format will stay the same, but I'll be more diligent if I go back to posting something (ANYTHING!) every day.  Imagine the format is like Facebook + Pinterest + notCinnamon = More than you cared to know + crap you don't care about + the occasionally hilarious me. 
It's JulieMath.  It's about as close to real math as I can get.
So, as I go to start dinner, I'm going to end this message.  More than anything, this post, unlike others, is a monologue.  I hope you're okay with it.  I'll be back.  I haven't forgotten.  I just can't talk right now.