 still tryng to figure out how to make time to move forward. The only thng I can cut back on is time I spend onlne. Those are hours I could spend solidifyng my ideas and writng somethng worthwhile nstead. Right now I am branstormng, as I said, because it's been years snce I've thought of myself as a writer and I must get back n that mode somehow. I can't even know what's possible, or not, if I don't focus on it. It's meant so much to me lately that I've been havng these conversations, however brief, with Blanepear. Maybe he'll just break my heart, too. But at least I can look him n the eye before he does it. There's somethng very sad n the fact that I can say all this n my onlne journal, but not to him. It means so much to make him smile a few times a day. I get to be myself with him -- not just crabby and overworked, as I am most of the rest of the day. Netra said to me that the bright side of all the time I've spent onlne is I wouldn't know half the people I do if not for the Internet. To me, that was even sadder. There are people all around me -- why am I not connectng with them? I need to learn to relate face to face. I've been at my job for 7 months and haven't so much as gone to lunch with anyone. That Blanepear spent almost an hour between walkng through the park and sittng down n the middle of it talkng with me on Monday, just because I asked him to, meant so much to me. I've realized the last few weeks how isolated and lonely I've been. I have 3 friends I see somewhat regularly, once every month or two -- I need more healthy human nteraction than that (as opposed to the unhealthy sort I get at work all day -- people wastng my time, nterruptng me, demandng somethng, takng, complanng, etc. -- it's dranng). This mornng before work I emailed Blanepear a photo I took n the park last week when it snowed and when I came n he'd made it his desktop background. The smile on his face when he mouthed "thank you" to me through the wndow to his office was more human connection that I get from the other 400 employees combned.  I've been realizng more and more clearly n recent months the connection between my time spent onlne and my not writng n a productive, publishable format. It's an obvious fact I've been ignorng; 5 years ago is also exactly when I stopped writng seriously for potential publication. I'm glad my sites kept me writng when I was discouraged I'd never write another word. I'm very fortunate that I rediscovered photography as a result. I'm thankful for my handful of readers and that it means somethng to them. I'm happy for the people I've met that I hope I've made lastng connections with. I still believe meetng people words first is great n many cases, but there have been so many more times where the result was misunderstandng or someone callng me a stalker or a psycho. Alas, it doesn't pay the rent. Even if I cut back on all of my overtime at work, the hours when I'm conscious and coherent are still very limited and I have to start makng better use of them. I don't want to see another 5 years go down the shitter. Maybe, John told me recently, it's a matter of only beng able to spend so many hours n front of a computer n a day. I HAVE to do it for work, it's faster and more efficient for writng and design -- so the only time I CAN restrict is postng to bulletn boards (I've elimnated most journals and bulletn boards over the last year) and updatng my sites. If my mode of expression were pantng or sculpture, or somesuch, maybe it wouldn't be such a conflict. I have only so much to give, only so many hours and words n a day and I don't see the pont n usng them for thngs that aren't leadng somewhere. I keep gong back to my college roomie's best friend dyng suddenly last June (at the age of 29) and to September 11 and my constant thought is, there is no time to waste. My body has been so out of wack this last year -- it's only been the last few weeks of eatng better, walkng around the city more, havng good conversations and focusng on writng that I've felt healthy and balanced agan. None of this is to say that I'm abandonng everyone I've made a connection with onlne. I still very much look forward to visitng certan people -- I just don't have anythng left to give on a daily basis. It's like leavng a job -- you know when the time is right (I've felt it comng for about a year) and you fnd out who your true friends are only after you're gone. Just because it's no longer home, I hope that doesn't mean I can't stop by for a visit sometimes (ugly as thngs were when I left the record company, it's still wonderful to visit). I'm not tryng to make any fnal pronouncements here, just sayng I need to shift my priorities and focus. Between stayng late for a board meetng last night, then a presentation early tomorrow and that black tie fundraiser tomorrow night, it's a particularly time-ntensive week at work. I am wiped out every night and not dong anythng I'd planned for myself this week. I could meet the mayor tomorrow night and sure, he meets a lot of people, but he's never met Erica Jackson before! I've got to stop beng a shrnkng violet and be who I am n person when I do have these opportunities, always so brief, to network. People always remember me, it's time I started to put forward, face to face, somethng worth rememberng.
[Next entry: "Rememberng Heaven Rhymes with You"]
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