The Last Drunk at the Party

~ Laura

I’ve written at least one blog post nearly every weekday since July 2003. Twelve years. That’s crazy, right?

Blogging has been very, very good to me. I learned how to write quickly for an online audience about topics that they found interesting. I met a lot of really cool people who offered a joke, an insight, and a kind word.

The conversation between bloggers ended five years ago. Traffic patterns changed. People moved to other ventures. Nearly all of the original bloggers dropped out. I kept at it,  mostly because I enjoyed the conversation with my readers, and I liked having control over my ideas and words. Even with the changing online landscape, there was always a reason to go to the computer after the kids got on the bus and write.

I must end Apt. 11D as we know it. The mashup of personal and professional and political. The daily posts. The link-fests. I can’t do it anymore.

Twelve years of daily blog posts with tons of images and graphics creates a mammoth problem. My current serving company can’t manage it. Cleaning up this mess would cost some serious money.

I don’t have enough time to blog properly. My days are getting eaten up with professional writing and local organizing. I’m so overbooked that I’m making mistakes. I’m missing meetings, not returning e-mail messages, and not even doing a great job with blogging. I have to reduce my responsibilities.

So, I’m leaving. I’m the last drunk at the party, who wanted the fun to keep going on and on. But someone turned off the tunes and put on the bright lights. It’s time to grab my purse and get on the subway.

Here’s the plan. I’m not going to dump the website. I want to preserve the historical record. I might come back every couple of weeks to add a personal post about food and kids, because that makes me happy. If you want a ping when I write something, sign up for a subscription (sidebar bottom).

I will set up a professional website at some point. I’m not sure if it will include a blog.

I’m on Twitter and Facebook. Follow me there.

I’ll miss everyone terribly, especially the regular commenters. We’ve been together for a long time, and our little community is the smartest, funniest, kindest group of people ever. I’m sure that I’ll have the DTs from blog withdrawal for a very long time. I hope that we all find each other in some other corner of the Internet or in real life.

Lots of love. Laura

Published by Laura

72 thoughts on “The Last Drunk at the Party”

  1. Thank you so much for hosting this conversation. You (and Rod Dreher) have been my daily reads for the last few years, and I’m deeply grateful.

    I was one of the last two active posters at a group blog we shut down about 7 years ago. While I miss it–and especially miss the fellow bloggers and regular commenters–I don’t miss the time I put into it, nor the emotional drain it became once my life circumstances changed and it turned into “work”. I do regret that the site is only available on the Internet Archive, and wish I’d pulled the posts and comments together into one of those publish-on-demand books to consult. Paper may be the best preservation format for born-digital material like this.

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  2. I’m so sad it has come to an end! This place is somewhere I have visited daily for years. You’ve created something special here and attracted this ragtag group of smart, funny, insightful regulars.

    I’ll miss reading your posts and just as much, reading all of your responses. Many of you I’d have come across in real life but for geography. And many I’ve met only because you are here – for a variety of reasons (demographics, social class, etc), we’d never have met and I’d have missed the honor and privilege of hearing your point of view.

    There are few places to debate and argue that don’t devolve into name calling and snark and anger.

    Thank you to Laura as host and to each one of you. Wouldn’t it be great to meet this morning and grab a coffee together? My treat.

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  4. Aw I am so sorry but I get it. Life goes on. Will try to find you on facebook- am FB friends with a number of other former and current blogges.

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  5. Sorry to see you leave. Best wishes. To avoid withdrawal, I’m afraid I’ll have to start going back to reading the comments on Crooked Timber, even though those are mostly annoying.

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  6. I’m going to miss you. You truly were the last blog I cared to read on a daily basis. I’ll miss the little community and great conversation. I totally understand, but still…sniff.

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  7. I’ll miss the blog, too, but think it’s important to be open to changing needs and circumstances in life. We are in a big emotional transition year at home, because our eldest, who has been at the same school for 8+ years (at a K-8), with many classmates we have known since they were five will be moving on to high school.

    I wish you satisfaction in your other endeavors and will look forward to your articles elsewhere.

    If you will be updating us infrequently, I reccomend blog readers for all of us (still Feedly for me); it’s been a good way to keep up with infrequently updated blogs.

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  8. I’m sorry but I understand. My own blogging has tapered off in the past two years. I blame Twitter but also bless it since it enables me to follow you and so many other people I’ve come to know.

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  9. This post title and the fact that nobody is in the office today because of the snow makes me want to try out that “drinking at lunch” thing I’ve been hearing so much about.

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  10. Well, that was appropriate. My first comment got eaten.
    I’ll miss the blog and the commenters. I already follow you on Twitter, so I won’t miss you. 😉
    Boooo. Waaah.

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  14. I don’t comment that much but I’ve read your blog since you really did live at apt11d. I’ll miss your writing and ideas. Your radar for what is interesting and important is great.

    I’ll check back to see if you decide to post anything else. It doesn’t sound like you’ll get bored anytime soon with all you have going on, but I can hope.

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  15. Best wishes. I will miss this place. You have a smart, witty, observant writing style that I will miss reading. And you’ve attracted quite a crew of smart, witty, observant commentators. This was one site where people seemed to be able to express various viewpoints in a polite, respectful discussion. (The “PBS NewsHour of Blogs”) But I totally get why you are moving on. Good luck.

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  17. Oh, I’m sad. I really liked the blogosphere back when it was lively, and I’ve missed it since it’s been mostly gone (I don’t like Twitter, FaceBook is okay but not the same, and professional writing online is also not the same.) I’ll miss your blog both specifically and, as you say, as one of the last vestiges of an ecosystem I liked.

    (Come by Unfogged if you’re ever bored. It’s not what it was, but the comments threads are going to keep rolling along until someone shoots us all in the head.)

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  18. Laura, thank you for all the posts across the years. I have been entertained, irritated, provoked, amused and edified: sometimes all in the same post 😉
    Will miss your blog.. a lot of the small independent voices have gone quiet. medium.com and twitter are fine as far as they go but medium tends to attract already well-known writers, twitter doesn’t lend itself to discussion.

    I’m still posting drunkenly though very sporadically.. ha.

    all the best, Doug K

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  19. The links on the sidebar of the original page make me feel old. And I wasn’t even reading here back then.

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  20. This is the only blog I read, so I will really miss it. I would guess I’ve been reading for about 10 years, maybe more. I remember commenting back when my 13-year olds were toddlers. I’m not sure exactly what was so special about it for me, but though I tried other blogs over the years, they never really stuck. I’ve even dreamed about it! I am very, very sorry to see it go.

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  21. I will really miss both your writing here and the conversations, but go you for prioritizing what works for you. You are an amazing communicator and moderator!

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  22. Long time reader first time commenter, and I wanted to say thank you. Yours is such a fresh wonderful voice. I am sad to see it go but look forward to reading your professional work.

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  23. Good luck, Laura. I’ll miss it, and comments from people like MH (always much funnier than I could hope to be) and bj especially, though not only them.

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  24. I’ve been reading you since the very start — I think I followed you over here from the Invisible Adjunct’s comment section — and you’ve been a touchstone for me in so many ways, from academia to parenting to civic engagement to home renovations and much more. A truly major part of my mental life. Your determination, your sense of humor, and your work ethic have been absolutely inspirational. I wish I’d commented more. Even so, I’ve made friends in real life by discovering a shared readership of your blog, and often thought of you when facing real-life decisions, large and small. Thank you. And please keep writing — you have an amazing voice, and I hope we’ll be hearing from you, one way or another, much more in the future.

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    1. I wish I could “like” this comment — me too, and said much more eloquently than I could. It is precisely that combination of qualities, the same ones that make it difficult to find a niche, that has kept me coming here for so many years.

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  25. I will really miss this blog. I will look for your pieces in the Atlantic, but I don’t think I’ll comment there. The Atlantic’s comment section is too vitriolic.

    I would pay for a subscription to 11d. Just putting that out there. Jerry Pournell, at his blog, Chaos Manor, does have subscribers. “Regular is $20 a year. Patron is $36. Platinum is $100.” http://www.jerrypournelle.com/paying.html

    I would be happy to be among your first Platinum members, theoretically, just sayin’, hint hint.

    This site, due to your decency, has been an unusual island of respect. Thank you for the time and effort you put into it. I respect your right to rest and recuperate from the stress of daily blogging, and wish you well.

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    1. This is closest to my reaction, though the longer and more articulate notes are good too. I am tempted to say: what’s the deal with this “do what’s best for you” stuff? Do what’s best for me! I’ll really miss this, and I appreciate all the work you’ve put into it over the years; it’s been a great place to hang out online, with smart, respectful people.

      I might have to out myself to you on FB and friend you there. My real initials are not actually af; I picked that name a long time ago, probably so I could comment on this very blog ten years ago or so. My English teacher in high school once did a wonderful dramatic reading of The Trojan Women, where someone says, “No one is always fortunate.” But I always felt pretty fortunate, so.. af. Good luck out there!

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  27. I’ve read you since you really did live in Apt 11d! I started reading when I was just off the bus (or, rather, the 7:32 AM midtown direct from Short Hills) in NYC. You’ve been as much a part of my daily life as my coffee and metrocard. Thank you.
    Ryan @martharyanc

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  28. Good job taking care of yourself and setting boundaries! I’ve learned here and I hope I’ve contributed. Thanks for making the space for conversations.

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  29. I’ve been reading your blog since the early days as I spent my time seeking out post-academia voices and struggling to finish my Ph.d. You were the only one left. I’ll miss the food (I’ve been playing with your chili recipe), the links, the education and post-academia essays, and all the random stuff. I never “friend” people I don’t actually know. You’ll be an exception.

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  30. Just checking back, in hopes you changed your mind. I too would pay.

    This place was interesting, thought-provoking and remarkably sane. I can’t think of another website that meets that description.

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  31. Although I commented rarely, I’ve been reading this blog for more than a decade, ever since I happened to follow a link from Invisible Adjunct. I’m sorry to see you go, but I get it, and I wish you the best.

    Your departure reminds me that the promise of blogging has failed. For a short time, amateur and professional pundits mingled freely, and it wasn’t uncommon for a big-time blogger to read and link to small, obscure solo bloggers if their writing was good. Now, we’ve returned to a handful of professional pundits setting the tone and giving us subjects to discuss every day. Like the newspaper editors or TV commentators of 20 to 30 years ago, few of them wade into their own comments sections to engage regularly and directly with their readers. I’m not sure we’re better off than we were—but blogs like this one have been a nice refuge.

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  32. This isn’t a proper good-bye, even to the blog. I just wanted to say that last fall I started up a new blog with a few friends. It’s mostly (that is, 80 percent-plus) book reviews, some timely, some not. One of the friends (who’s on hiatus for religious reasons, but that’s another story) was writing up his thoughts on Greek and Roman classics as he made his way through antiquity. Where else but a do-it-yourself blog will you find that? And at least within certain precincts, the border between d-i-y bloggers and the big time is still permeable: William Gibson (!!) took note of one of our reviews.

    On the other hand, a solo blog is crazy hard to keep doing, and even as part of a group effort, eventually it’s tough to avoid feeling blogged out. I haven’t done much at A Fistful of Euros for the last few years: at first, Georgia was too small to be a disinterested commenter about, and then I thought better of saying much political while living in Moscow. I was back in the West in time for the annexation of the Crimea, and that spurred a flurry of blogging. But even on that topic, how many times can I say that Czechoslovakia is still fighting to keep the Sudetenland?

    Looking forward to the sporadic posts, though. Laura, I think you have the blogging disposition, and will find it calls you back.

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  34. My first 2 comments timed out, so just let me say how much I have valued being a regular reader here and how much I will miss the intelligent exchange of views here. I’m glad to have had it for this long and I will look forward to seeing the sporadic updates.

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  35. Oh, I was afraid of this when you were struggling with the technical side! While I respect your decision, I wish it was different. While I haven’t been a frequent commenter, I have been a faithful reader. I believe I started following you about the time you were buying the first house, so I’ve been here for a bit.

    I will look forward to the occasional post — whenever they may appear!

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  36. I’m not turning in my member card in the Greater Levendee Co-Prosperity Sphere! Best of luck.

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  38. Goodbye, Laura, and thanks for all the fish. I came to you, like Margaret, from Invisible Adjunct, and I have never stopped coming back for your posts, your links and your unique way of looking at the world. Heartfelt thanks for years of arcane but useful information, humane commentary and illuminating discussions.

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  39. Thank you for the years of thought-provoking and entertaining blogging. Even though I’ve lurked I’ve learned a lot from you and your commenters. And this is the only blog I read that doesn’t have a single commenter I skip over every time I see the name.
    As someone who runs a food pantry, I’ve especially appreciated what you’ve written about your dad’s involvement and about hunger in communities thought to be affluent.
    Good for you for doing what’s best for you. I will read whatever you post, and I’m one of those who would happily pay to subscribe.

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  40. Long time reader, but rare commenter. I enjoyed reading your blog quite a bit.
    Thanks so much for all the fine writing and the comments, and good luck!

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  41. oh, this losing comments & comments timing out are part of the “brokeness” of the blog? 😦 😦
    So sad. I totally get your need not to have to quit so you won’t spend money on this blog. 😦 I will still miss you a lot. (and I did write a long comment a few days ago that I lost too). trying again.

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  42. I guess this means I’ll have to actually catch up with you in person rather than lurking around your blog. Hugs!

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  43. Another long-time lurker who will miss your blog and the community you’ve built here. There are so few places on the Internet where smart, thoughtful people can exchange ideas without the conversation devolving into incivility. I’ve learned so much from you and your commenters. Thank you, and keep writing!

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  45. Another lurker here. Thank you for the years of thoughtful, sane, and funny blogging. I will miss your voice. I wish you and your family all the best…

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  46. Trying to imagine a world without snappy comebacks from MH, or carefully-researched disagreement from bj, or just plain ole disagreement from AmyP. I don’t like what I see!

    FWIW though I agree with your decision, Laura. No matter how great a host you’ve been, or how much I’ve enjoyed having decent discussion among respectful adults, you owe it to yourself and your family to get paid.

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    1. Not leaving because I’m not getting paid. My big problem is the tech side. My cheap-o hosting company is having problems running this blog. i think because it has so many years of posts, comments, and images. I started the research into new hosting companies. It would cost more and I’m not sure they could solve the mammoth data problems. And I’m just tired out. Maybe I need a vacation for a month or two. We’ll see.

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      1. :::inserting foot in that little crack of the door opening::::

        Seriously, though, figure out how much it would cost and look into options (as in many of us would probably kick in a few shekels)

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      2. Hooray! Maybe my Greater Levendee Co-Prosperity Sphere membership card will be worth something after all!

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      3. Kitchen Table Math ran into this problem some years ago, I think. They started a second blog, “Kitchen Table Math, the sequel.” You could invite guest posts. I gather some of the regular posters have their own blogs.

        I am entirely selfish in recommending these things, of course. (insert some sort of inventive emoji.)

        Time away is a Good Thing.

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  47. Oh, how I will miss your presence via your blog. I am a better, smarter, more informed, more thoughtful person because of you and this community. Thank you for sharing so generously. Best wishes!

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    3. I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who keeps checking back here. Yesterday I had to have an argument about education policy on Facebook, rather than on 11d as God intended.

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  55. Laura,

    If you felt up to it, the blog could probably run (at least to some extent) on a weekly open thread.

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