Helter skelter

Oh, hi.

I hesitate to admit this, but ... technology confounds me. As in, "Where's that confounded bridge?"

On the one hand, particularly in this city, it is an agoraphobic's dream. Though an agoraphobic might want to rethink living in Manhattan to begin with. But really -- even before the wonders of the "Internets", Manhattan has long been a place where one can get a fair amount done with minimal contact with the outside world. Blintzes at your doorstep at 4AM? Done. Dirty laundry picked up, washed, folded and returned? Not a problem. Now one can have these conveniences and so, so much more with little more than a valid address and a keyboard. So that's a good thing. I have built and solidified multi-dimensional friendships through two-dimensional efforts. But I have also had pointless misunderstandings with some of my closest friends in two dimensions -- there are no nuances or subtleties to IMs and emails. There is to Skype, but no one seems to have it except George Breakfast and me.

The word nuance reminds me of my seester. About which more later.

I have the luxury of working from home more days than not which is, for me, a luxury. I don't gravitate toward office settings, though I must say that the in-office work I'm doing these days is extremely enriching in many ways. But technically I could do this and other work from the privacy of my home, wearing as much or as little as I feel like wearing. I could, if I chose, put in a solid eight hours of work in an ill-fitting vintage prom dress and a pith helmet. I don't. But I could.

Hello, tangents.

I've taken to getting dressed in clothing I could wear out of the house when working from home. But for a writer, and I am finally ready to admit that I am a writer, electronic distractions abound. Never mind the television, cable, Netflix, phone, text messaging, and so on ... simply sitting down to write comes with the temptation to check my email. Constantly. On slow mail days, there's Gawker, there are friends' blogs, there are random ideas I choose to Google. Like Kleenex, Bandaids, Q-tips and Xerox machines, Google is fast becoming more than a brand -- it's the catch-all phrase for searching the World Wide Web (does anyone say this anymore?). It is procrastination's best friend. I'll be on a roll with my writing, wind up in some sort of food scene, then not be able to decide whether the thing you strain spaghetti in (spaghetti that you don't order in from across the street, that is) is a collander or collandar or khahlehndur ... so I'll look it up, triggering a Pavlovian response to pasta -- like pasta cruda, which my mom makes flawlessly and has taught me how to make. And then I'll think about Italy itself, and remember that Diane is on a tour of the Mediterranean - I think she's in Sicily, which is where, exactly? And Malta -- my former landlord is from there. Who was that nice couple who lived next door? She was working for Lorne Michaels -- let me Google her. Oh! They got married. Just like my freshman year roomate -- who's on Facebook -- and apparently loves Arrested Development too. I wonder what Jason Bateman is working on these days ... since Juno -- which I might as well IMDB because I never did read the trivia for that film. I'll peruse the credits (while waiting for Tetris to load) and -- the Dolly Grip's name is really familiar -- let me email my friend in LA to see if it's the same Gregory -- but I haven't talked to my LA friend in a while, so I'll just give him a call before I start writing. And then call-waiting comes in, and so-and-so has a hilarious story to tell me -- she's just come back from St. Thomas. Which is where, again? Looks nice -- let me check Orbitz or Travelzoo and see how much it costs to get there. But actually, before I do I should really head down to New Orleans to visit friends there -- how much will that cost? It's cheap this time of year! Let me call those friends and see if this is a good time to visit -- it is! There's a festival (always) that weekend -- headlined by a band that sounds kind of familiar -- I should download a few of their songs before I head to New Orleans with the nonrefundable tickets I just bought on Expedia ... flying Continental, which I don't have miles on -- let me sign up for their frequent flier program ... What's the etymology of the word "frequent"? And so on and so on and so on.

On the first day of our illustrious writers' group, we had a member, Joyce, whose schedule, unfortunately, has prevented her from committing for the time being. She had finished a draft of a novel, which had taken her from May till November to write. We were impressed -- and perhaps some of us a bit envious.

"It was easy," she explained. "I was brand new to New York and didn't know ANYone. I had no friends."

"Lucky," Michael and I joked later. For a few brief shining months, Joyce had minimal distraction.

I wouldn't trade my friends and family for the world. I absolutely would not. But I would love to find the middle ground, where I can maintain my relationships and write.

Much more to say, so I'll be back soon. My spaghetti has arrived.