In which I make myself strangely vulnerable…?

There are basically two types* of bloggers: those who recognize that updating frequently is beneficial to the life of their piddly little Web space and so regularly hit the "publish post" button, and those who recognize that updating frequently is beneficial to the life of their piddly little Web space and, yet, don't.

I hate being of the latter group, but let's face it.

I've actually been thinking a lot about having a blog and how much I have kind of grown to hate it, if you'll permit me to be a bit dramatic for a second. When people meet me and say, "Oh! You have that blog!," I almost always shrink away from them, embarrassed. Not because it's embarrassing to have a blog, but because I'm a little embarrassed about how I've had one.

What do I mean? Well, for one thing, I'm really, really boring here—and I don't think I'm being self-deprecating, believe it or not. I just honestly feel like my blog hasn't contributed anything to coffee or the industry or barista culture or anything. I'm not even sure at this point why I started it, because I am actually very shy and get very self-conscious talking about myself (er… except in this post, I guess?). But that's basically all I've ever done here—talk about what I did that day or what coffee I drank or how I brewed it or whatever. It's like long-form Twittering, except the whole point of Twittering is to not be long-form. Dumb!

The other thing that has been frustrating me about blogging lately is that—if I may make an already rather obvious confession—I am really quite skittish about confrontation. I don't mean "confrontation" as in a beer bottle smashed over the edge of a bar and lunged into the soft part of your belly during a roadhouse fight, I mean even civilized, articulately argumentative, theoretical confrontation about differing opinions relating to coffee—even (or especially?) with or from people in the industry who know far more than me and whose opinions and expertise I respect (who I'm just certain are constantly refreshing their RSS readers to see if there's a new post from the long-dormant Meet the Press Pot).

This last fear is not brought about because I don't want to learn, but almost because I am so desperate to learn that I am wary of being scared off by online humiliation or by putting my virtual foot in my e-mouth. I have gotten to the point where I'll sooner delete a gigantic post full of questions and ideas and discoveries than face the possibility of someone coming along and pointing out all my weaknesses and mistakes, and that is cowardly and, yes, absolutely mind-blowingly boring. I am scared of having a public persona; I am happier having these interactions and dialouges and learning these lessons in a more private way.

I won't tire you further by waxing psychological about the reasons for this kind of nonsensical fear, and I am not trying to drum up support for maintaining this thing, because I will probably keep it up anyway (albeit lamely—that is unless I can grow a tough emotional exoskeleton sometime in the near future). But I feel like it's silly to just leave this thing here gathering dust and pretending every once in a while that I'm still into posting because I occasionally link to a flier or mention an event.

What I want to do is actually have conversations with other coffee professionals, learn from them and learn from my own findings, good or bad. I want to feel able to make a statement without obsessively editing it over and over and over before the site counter clicks and rolls over another number. I want to talk about the things that inspire and disappoint me, and I want to learn how to emulate or reject them in my professional life (respectively!).

There have been things about having a blog that I have really and still really enjoy, like meeting really nice, really interesting people and hearing about their passions and adventures in coffee. Other people's enthusiasm for this industry and for these weird and exciting lives we lead has always been so motivating and wonderful to me, and I'm grateful for those who have shared their journey in comments, e-mails and shy introductions on the road (the shy part is mostly me).

Again, I don't mean to make this sound like a eulogy for Meet the Press Pot, I am just kind of getting it off my mind—putting to rest the weird sort of tension that builds up when you're done with a day of work and think, "Well, I could post on my blog… or I could do a million other totally nonproductive things, like watching '50s game shows or creating a new at-the-gym playlist on my iPod…"

And, in conclusion, here is a video of a Scottish fold kitten.



*Not including those lucky bastards that get paid to do this sort of thing. If I were getting paid, maybe I wouldn't be so ding dang shy.