Dr. Food: Vhat brings you to my couch today?
Lentil Breakdown: I’m holding an intervention for my blog. I hope all my readers will fit in your office.
Dr. Food: I’ve seen your Google analytics. Tell zem to bring zair friends. Who calls an intervention for a blog, anyvay? Lady, are you cuckoo?
Lentil Breakdown: Well, doc, since Lentil Breakdown turned two, I think it’s time to confront it with some serious questions. Like where has it gotten me and where is it taking me?
Dr. Food: It got you on zis couch, and now I can afford another trip to Vienna! Cha-ching! And it looks like it’s made you lots of friends who enjoy a good nosh!
Lentil Breakdown: That’s true. I’ve made so many friends, it’s incredible! I’m so lucky and grateful for them all, but sometimes this social networking feels like, well, high school. How many people “Like” you? How many people follow you on Twitter? How many visitors did you get? How many people left comments? How many people signed your yearbook? And I'm still an outsider without a date to the prom!
Dr. Food: Vhat did you expect? To be homecoming queen?
Lentil Breakdown: No, but I figured this is where I would shine—just me in the trenches, crafting my magic, without fashion or personal grooming to get in the way. But my blog doesn't really fit in with the other food blogs. It's not a cheerleader, a nerd or a stoner. It's a lot like Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club.
Dr. Food: Vell, other zen to avoid Bloomingdale's and za bathtub, vhy did you start it?
Lentil Breakdown: I thought I might get a humor food column out of it.
Dr. Food: Lady, everyvun’s middle name is Shecky, and vee all have a food blog. Did I tell you about mine? It’s called Oedipal Edibles. I subconsciously cook all my mother’s recipes. Turns out I'm in love vith her tuna casserole!
Lentil Breakdown: But doc, I may not be a real chef, but I’m a real writer!
Dr. Food: And I’m a real shrink. Vhat's your point?
Lentil Breakdown: It's just that I have a food-related book inside of me that wants to come out! But between my full-time job and this blog, I can't write it! I can barely keep up with the blog! I have all these ideas, but they're sitting around languishing in my brain. Everything's a struggle! Formatting issues, widgets, HTML, SEO, ISO, white balance, Photoshop, Light Room, StumbleUpon, HootSuite, TweetDeck, Google Plus—WTF! It's all Swahili to me and a huge time suck! Doc, I feel like a dinosaur. Spielberg could hire me to play a brachiosaurus in Jurassic Park 4. They were herbivores, you know.
Dr. Food: Ah, a technophobe vith vegetarian proclivities.
Lentil Breakdown: Days vanish before my eyes and and all I've got to show for it is a phallic ode in cyberspace!
Dr. Food: Sounds like vee need more sessions! Cha-ching!
Lentil Breakdown: And I'm a perfectionist who obsesses over every detail! Can you tell me something to make me work faster?
Dr. Food: Vith your OCD? Zat would be like Michele Bachmann telling Harvey Fierstein to pray away za gay!
Lentil Breakdown: But can’t you rewire my brain or something?
Dr. Food: Zair aren’t enough circuits, lady! Vee’d have to build more dams!
Lentil Breakdown: What's the point of a blog, anyway? Is it a place for narcissists to say, “Hey, look at me!” and whoever screams the loudest wins? Do we all have something so unique to offer that it needs to be broadcast to the world? Is disseminating useful information more noble than simply talking about ourselves? Who's to decide what's useful? What makes us relevant? What makes a person an authority? Is educating and informing people more respectable than merely entertaining them? Can you educate and entertain at the same time? Is "edutainment" really a word?
Dr. Food: I see vee need more dams zen I thought!
Lentil Breakdown: Doc, it just seems like I should be doing something more useful with my time than creating this light entertainment. Who am I, Mario Lopez? I’d rather be someone who’s making a difference like a Michael Moore or a Michael Pollan. But those Michaels are already taken. And they’re probably better at being them than I could ever be. Although with the portions I’ve been eating, I may have a shot at being Michael Moore. Doc, I’m like a neutered Chihuahua. I sit around barking, but I’m not humping anything! I should be out there protesting against the corporate machines!
Dr. Food: I saw you at an anti-GMO rally vith your lawn chair and picnic basket. Looked like quite a spread!
Lentil Breakdown: It was! All organic and no GMOs!
Dr. Food: But vhy veren't you marching?
Lentil Breakdown: My vegan fried chicken took a little longer to prepare than I expected, and I didn't have time to make a protest sign. Simulating bones is harder than you think!
Dr. Food: A picnic to a protest? Is zat vhat you’re bringing to za table?
Lentil Breakdown: I don't know. What am I bringing to the table? What are any of us food bloggers bringing to the table? Is sharing our love of food enough to warrant all the hoopla we make out of this colossal time suck? How many cupcake recipes does the world really need? What other parts of our lives are we sacrificing? Doc, I haven't touched my toes in two years. I'm not even sure they're still down there! I miss my muscle tone.
Dr. Food: Zen quit yer bitchin’ and get out of za kitchen!
Lentil Breakdown: I don't know. I’d like to hear from my interveners.
Dr. Food: Oooh, I love a good viener! Vith a little kraut!
Lentil Breakdown: I want to know if bloggers enjoy spending countless hours on social media or if they just accept it as part of the job? Do they have an end game in mind for their blog? How long do they plan on doing it? What else would they be doing with their time? Doc, I can't seem to quit high school! But what’s the point of going on if I never get my diploma?
Dr. Food: Vell, it’s like a client of mine vunce said, “My sister thinks she’s a chicken.” So I said, “Vhy don’t you have her committed?” And he said, “I vould, but I need za eggs.” Maybe you need za eggs!
Lentil Breakdown: Oooh. Suddenly I’m in the mood for a frittata. I'm thinking sundried tomatoes, arugula, caramelized onions and fontina on a periwinkle blue plate with a fuchsia napkin and post-modern fork perched perfectly on a distressed oak tabletop near my westward window at 5:18 pm. See you next week, doc.
Dr. Food: But our time isn't up!
Lentil Breakdown: Sorry. I gotta go charge my camera battery.
Calling all interveners!