Identity crisis

See, this is what happens when people pay me compliments - I develop a really impressive case of writer's block. Suddenly, I'm so overcome by the fact that people like what I wrote, that they in fact like it so much they want to see it published, that I don't know what to write next. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for all the love. Really grateful. But also a little curious to the reason behind all the compliments.

I find myself wondering why they liked it, and how I can best replicate that. Was it the topic? Do I have a whole slew or runner-readers who relate to my tales of inattentive drivers? Or was it the structure? The fact that I actually used a basic intro-body1-body2-body3 layout, as opposed to a long-winded introduction with lots of little, less-than-relevant anecdotes followed by a short little body with not half as many interesting stories? I don't know. And that makes me nervous. And then I don't know what to write anymore.

As it is, I have to admit, I'm having a minor blog-identity crisis. You see, when I started this blog 2.5 years ago, I was completely new to the south and its bugs, tea, dress codes, love for the church, and everything else that is deemed perfectly normal to most people spending their life down here. But as of late, I've started to notice that I too am starting to resemble these people more and more.

Take roaches for instance. When my parents visited us this summer, and my mom was absolutely, positively grossed out when she discovered a dead roach next to her bed, I had a hard time relating. The first thing I told her was that the guest room was right next to the attic, and any roaches that we have seem to come from there. That didn't help at all. Then I tried to make her feel better by telling her it was dead, and that that meant our anti-roach spray was still working. No effect at all, unless you count her shrieking that a dead roach was still a roach. My next tactic was to tell her that, in Georgia, seeing a roach in your house does not mean that you are not hygienic, or that you have an infestation. Seeing one or two roaches just means that a few of the little buggers decided to venture out of the trees they lived in, and visit your house. Yep, no difference. The only response I got was something to the extent of "Oh. My. God. They live in trees here?"

So, yes, I'm having a harder time being the outsider than I did 2.5 years ago. And where does that leave this blog? Obviously, there are still things that make me shake my head, like the persistent inability to take a turn without ending up in the wrong lane. Or the complete obsession with celibacy before marriage. But on the whole, I've learned how to blend in pretty well.

But then what about my blog? Obviously, I love writing about my life. Unfortunately, my life isn't interesting enough for me to write about it in detail as some of my favorite bloggers do. If I did, every post would read something like; "Got up, was really tired, went to work, taught a class, worked on a research project, drove home, ran/biked/swam, went to sleep". But I can write about some of my more notable observations. But can I still do so under the "life in the land of Dixie" banner? Should it still be called Southern Tales? And if I chose not to do that anymore, than who am I? A runner? A professor? An evil stepmom? A Dutch woman in the US? A liberal who ended up married to the military?

Hence, my identity crisis. And now I have a little assignment for my readers (you know, all five of you) - who am I? How should I present myself? And my blog? Any ideas?