Year One.

I didn’t expect much when I started the blog. I knew I was unhappy and wanted a boyfriend, and I made a decision to put myself out in the world more. That was about the extent of my thought. I started with vague intentions, and have been thoroughly surprised by how much From The Archives captured my attention for the year. It is the predominant thing I did in 2006. By and large, it went well, but there are real pros and cons.

Cons:
Without a doubt, the most annoying thing about having the blog is that now I have to check my email spam. I missed some important emails at the beginning, and I find a real email from you guys every few weeks. That is too much to write off, so now I have to scan the spam box. It is a small but constant nuisance.

I don’t like how the blog pulls my attention from the moment. I’ve compared the blog to a long-distance relationship before, and it has some of the same downsides. I feel like a piece of me has been teased out and spread over the internet; I am not entirely here and present. I wonder what people I’ve never met are doing; I wonder whether people have responded to my posts; I track strangers’ interactions. All of that detracts from my life in the real world.

I got involved in internets drama this year, and I hate drama. In general, I’m thick-skinned and not looking for grievances. To a surprising degree, I’ve found I don’t care about ridiculous misinterpretations of my words, ‘cause if people can read me and be that off-base, fuck ‘em. But I also got mixed up with people I do respect and I hate authentic conflict so much that I question the value of any activity that leads to it.

I haven’t liked being a host for viewpoints I don’t respect. A conspicuous example is the gender-based strategizing for dating; that crap goes against everything I believe about people. I’ve also seen a rather callous disregard for people, especially people in poverty. I don’t like being reminded that real people, with whom I have enough in common that they are attracted to my writings, think that way.

Pros:
You guys have made my life so much richer. You think and say great things in the comments. When we meet, you tell me about things I would never have learned. You send me drunken emails; you send me real, physical letters. I talk to a couple of you on the phone, often enough that we are really friends. You have been kind and funny and interesting. When I go places, I meet you and you’re even better in person.

The blog has changed the direction of my life. I am certain that I would never have entertained the idea of writing about Los Osos if you guys hadn’t convinced me that people are interested in what I write. Now I’ve got a two or three year obsession. I knew I was stagnant before, and now I’m energized. Being creative about the book has brought all sorts of other projects to mind; I can barely think how I’m going to fit them all in, and I love being so excited to try things.

Having a place to put my thoughts has been a blessing. When I’m with real people, I listen to them half the time, and talk about personal things and play catch. Doing all those things means there isn’t time to go on tirades about floods in Natomas or why complex modeling is flawed. Also, they don’t want to hear as much of it as buzzes round my mind. Putting them here has opened the pressure-relief valve, and I didn’t know how much I needed that until I had it.

Blogging has made me closer with my sister and the Dubins, and with my few friends who read. Lots of my friends politely ask for the URL and then never visit. But some of my friends chose to look through the window to some of my interior life, and they see a good deal of who I am. I like that they know what I’m thinking about. I wouldn’t have told them so much, ‘cause we would have been doing other things.

Revelations:
I am surprised by how greedy I am for attention. I knew I liked attention, but I’ve started to think I need a fixed amount of attention, although it can be delivered in different ways. Periodic focused attention from students, full-time attention from a boyfriend, intermittent attention from friends, diffuse attention from internets strangers. There is an upper limit to the amount of attention I want, but I’ve been wanting more than I’ve been getting.

I have become much less private. I’ve tried telling you guys the things I’ve hidden for a long while, that I am lonelier and sadder than I act in real life. That I am desperately scared that I won’t have kids with a man I love. That I don’t know why I’m not with someone and I constantly fight off the fear that it is because I am broken somehow. That my life is good, but not how I want it. I said those things, out loud, to the world, and nothing bad happened. Other sweet people said that they feel like that too. If there is that much grace in the world when I tell my secrets, there must be grace for less tightly held intimacies. I’ve started opening up to real people sooner and easier.

The blog may be one of the few places in the world where I don’t downplay my intelligence. I check my vocabulary in regular speech; I decided a long time ago that I would rather have friends than good spoken grammar. I don’t show real people the range of my interests or tell them how much school I’ve done. I keep my mouth shut when people tell me stuff and I compare their ideas to other disciplines or critique it or connect it to something I read. People say that want that, but if you speak up, they get quiet and turn away. Here I can talk and analyze freely, and y’all don’t just keep up, you outpace me. It is a gift.

This should be obvious, but it is a painfully learned lesson for me. I’m sure I’ll get a few more repetitions. Not everyone thinks like me! My small homogenous group of friends doesn’t represent the whole world! I say things that are patently clear and people disagree with them! Some of you are wrong-thinking freaks, posing as perfectly ordinary people I like and respect! It probably doesn't reflect well on me that I keep getting surprised by that.


So far, the good sides of the blog have vastly outweighed the downsides. The only thing that would make it better is meeting more of you more often. And if you pimped me to the hot single guys you know (hot = funny, tech-y guys who do things, mid-thirties). And if you libertarians read my words, saw the light and became bleedingheart granola-type liberal devout environmentalists. That would be better.

On to Year Two.