1. Flight to LA to pick up my folks’ car which broke down on Monday: Delayed by two hours.
2. Scheduled lunch with friend after picking up the car: He was sick and had to cancel.
3. Shuttle to the auto shop: Old location, for which I had the address, was closed. Had to walk several blocks through the pouring rain.
4. Easy jaunt back up I-5: Snow near Castaic, Tejon Pass and the Grapevine shut down.
5. OK, fine, slightly longer but prettier drive up 101: Stop and go traffic from the valley through Santa Barbara, involving a good five hours and getting rear ended in the pouring rain (don’t worry, everyone is ok and two of the three cars involved, mine included, weren’t even scratched).
6. Well, at least I can get some split pea soup in Buellton: arrive at 10:03, mere minutes after they closed.
7. Alright, fine, I’ll eat in Santa Maria: Oh wait, now it’s almost 11, everything is closed. Guess it’s truck stop cup noodles for me (a far cry from the the bowl of ramen I was planning on getting in LA before I saw the traffic and decided I should get a move on).

And yet… today was arguably one of the best days I’ve had in months. And it continued the perfect start to 2011 I’ve had so far. See, 2011 is kind of an important year for me, for various reasons. It’s my 30th, to start. It’s also the 5th anniversary of Zane’s death. I’ll know in a few weeks whether I’m staying at Google (which, if yes, means I will be an ontologist for at least the next couple years). My band’s album is coming out by the end of the month. Things are changing fast this year, and I’m already seeing a lot of growth coming, personally, emotionally, career-wise, etc. And that’s why the past few days have been so interesting and possibly the best start to a year I’ve had in a long time. OK, so it’s slightly depressing that the fact that I haven’t been drunk yet tis year is something I view as an accomplishment, but there you go, there’s part one. Hell, I wasn’t even drunk on NYE. First non-hungover Jan 1 I’ve had since I started drinking. And then yesterday at my folks place with all of their friends celebrating New Years the traditional Japanese way (read: amazing and o’er abundant amounts of food). And then today…

I was dreading today since my dad asked if I’d be willing to go pick up the car. Flying to LA, merely to turn around and drive back by myself is not entirely my idea of a good time. But last night, as I was getting ready to go to bed, my roommate/best-friend-since-kindergarten pointed out that I should look at it as a blessing. After all, when was the last time I took a roadtrip? More importantly, when was the last time I took a solo roadtrip? And haven’t I always talked about the importance of exactly that? The long hours of driving by yourself with the music turned up full blast and the windows down and you have no-one to talk to aside from yourself. Isn’t that internal dialogue you have in that sort of isolated situation the most important type of self-reflection there is? Turns out Blake was right, and yes it is.

I got to parse through a lot of shit today. 2010 was a tumultuous year. Hell, so was 2009. And I hadn’t really had a chance to sort through it all. So as I was stuck in traffic in Ventura for an hour and a half, while part of me was cussing at the idiot drivers who can’t merge to save their fucking lives, the rest of me was pondering my damage from the last couple years. And while I was speeding through Salinas at 15 over the limit with the windows down and Lucero, Avett Brothers, William Elliot Whitmore, and Old Crow Medicing Show turned up to 11, I realized that, though I’m not yet where I want to be, I’m off to a pretty damn good start. And I feel fucking fantastic.

So yes, it’s true; nothing ever goes as planned. And that’s why life is so fucking beautiful. Happy Goddamned New Year, Motherfuckers.

The last two May 12s have been… Well, they’ve been bad. I’ve done a lot of screaming into the void and thrashing about at a world that could be so fucking unfair as to deprive itself of one of the greatest men to ever walk it. But not this year. The rage is gone. The sadness is still there, of course, that he can’t see what we’ve all done with ourselves - what I’ve done with myself. But the point is, we have done a lot. His friends have moved on to do big and awesome things. And he was a part of all of them, even in his absence.

See, the real friends are the ones you don’t have to see all the time to remain friends. The ones that you know you could lose touch with for 6 months and pick back up with as if there was no time lost - probably in mid conversation. And that is who PZA was, and is, to me. And everything I’ve done in the world without him, from starting a new career to making peace with San Francisco, from accepting my growing older to reaching a point in my life where I can say I’m truly happy, Zane was there for all of it. And Zane was the inspiration for all of it. I got two tattoos about a year ago, blackbirds on my arms, in honor of him. And I turned myself into a daruma, the Japanese good luck charm, by coloring in only one of the birds’ eyes. With a daruma, you color in one eye and set a goal for yourself. When that goal is accomplished, you color in the other. My goal is to live up to what that man would have wanted me to be, and when I get hit by a bus in 30 years with both eyes colored in, I plan to run into him again, beer and backgammon board in hand. And I refuse to let his passing prevent me from living a life that will make him say, when he kicks my ass at my favorite boardgame yet again, “Hey dude, good job down there.”

So, tonight, when I meet up with all his old friends, I will not be mourning the man I lost, but celebrating the friend that still drives me to do and be my best. I am forever grateful that I got to spend as much time with him as I did.

I used to write daily in an observation journal. It started as an assignment in a fiction writing class at SFSU. Every day, I’d carry around my Moleskine daily journal and, when inspiration struck, jot down a sentence or two. These could be actual observations about my physical environment, such as: “Sky’s the color of cobalt and cream.” More often, though, they’d be short plot ideas, snippets of conversation, interesting sentences, or things I’d overheard. And then, a little over a year ago, I stopped. And I hadn’t really thought about it lately.

I also used to carry another Moleskine, this one a basic, unlined hardcover. This was just for random notes and, mostly, doodling. I’ve never claimed to be an accomplished artist. Quite the opposite in fact. But I love doodling. Mechanical pencils, fountain pens, empty white pages, and I get along really fucking well. Close at hand as I write this, I have two such notebooks, full of attempted drawings of fractals, half-completed mathematical proofs, sketches of a previous version of this website, album cover ideas for a mixtape, and a stack of Polaroid pictures. But, I haven’t really used these much in the last year. And I hadn’t really thought about them.

What the hell changed? Why can I trace my complete lack of journalling to about a year ago? On thinking about it last night, I think I’ve figured it out. I got an iPhone. Now, don’t get me wrong, I fucking love my iPhone. It’s the best piece of tech I’ve bought in years, probably since my first laptop. It’s certainly become an invaluable part of my life. But, with the internet at my fingertips, has my desire for personal expression in the analog world gone down? When I’m constantly Twittering overheards (side note, when you see “OH” in a tweet, that’s what it stands for) does the need to keep track of them in a Moleskine decrease? Why bother writing down observations about the world when I can take a picture and post it straight to Facebook or Flickr? As my digital output increases, must my analog output fade away? If so, I’m not happy about it.

So, those were my thoughts last night. And then, today, while reading my unbelievably immense list of feeds in Google Reader, I came across this wonderful bit of synchronicity. And I realized that, as with dating and death, I am not alone in having these questions. If someone has taken the time to make (really quite nice) notebooks specifically for analog tweeting, then there are a lot of us feeling this same disconnect. And so, fuck it. Today I bought a sketch pencil and some new ink for my fountain pen, and threw my old Moleskines into my bag. Let the journaling begin again. And maybe the results will find their way onto teh interwebz later, but the point is that they will begin life in the real world. You know, that place that we actually all live.

I bookended my trip with two conversations on how our social media enhanced public lives alter the way we deal with universal aspects of humanity, namely dating and death. A third conversation, in the absolute middle of the conference, dealt again with dating (with an emphasis on sex).

Brave New Dating

Hosted by new friend Ryan McMinn (a gentleman and a scholar) and slightly longer-time friend Ali Watkins (one of the best parts of SF, real talk!), the panel was described as follows:

The dating protocol as we know it has become outmoded. The web has changed the dynamics of our social circle. Just as courtship was replaced by dating, should we now redefine dating or move to a post-dating world? Discover a new approach focused on the outcome rather than the process.

The turnout was clearly far greater than the SXSWi organizers had anticipated—they had to move the wall to make room for late arrivals, and far more of the crowd was sitting on the floor than on the chairs. In a very participatory discussion, Ryan and Ali talked about the many problems with dating in the post-Facebook, post-Twitter, post-Flickr world. Stories, from them and the rest of the room, included anecdotes regarding FB relationship status, Twitter stalking your new crush, and whether or not to de-friend your ex. A couple highlights, from rather hazy memory:

1. What is the protocol for fucking and Facebook? Are you obligated to add the person you are seeing before you have sex? What about after? Are one night stands Facebook friend material?
2. Is unfriending the only way to deal with a break-up? When your ex is Twittering about the new guy she’s hanging out with or you see him in a picture on Flickr with some girl, can you deal with it? Or do you have to stop following them in all social media to keep your jealousy in check? Can you ever friend them again?
3. My favorite was a guy telling about an old ex of several years finding him on Facebook and requesting to add him. He was hesitant, as he was unsure how his current girlfriend would react. He expected bad repercussions and intense jealousy from her if he were to click “Approve”. In a fantastic monologue, the inimitable Tantek Çelik issued the following advice, which the panelists wisely allowed to close the conversation: “No fear! Be bold!”

Sex Lives of the Microfamous

This one was organized by Nick Douglas and Melissa Gira, and was described thusly:

What kind of person talks about their sex and dating life on the internet? Someone desperate for attention? Or someone who already has lots of it? For the microfamous, having a relationship in public is as much a potential career boost as it as a vulnerability.

It turned out to have a lot in common with Ali and Ryan’s talk, though there were a few new wrinkles thrown into the mix:

1. Apparently, many people have a no-Googling rule when it comes to their love interests… This makes a lot of sense to me, but jesus that’s got to be hard to resist.
2. Living a freely accessible, public life online can lead people to believe they know you very well before they even meet you. “I know all about you from your blog.” “Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
3. “You can either date me, or blog about me, but not both.” An ex once asked me if I wanted to be “the boy”, “M”, or “Micah” in her personal blog. I told her Micah was my name, so Micah was fine for the internets, as well… Now I wonder if that was a good idea.

And that’s really my main takeaway from this talk, and turned into a long conversation with Ryan on our way to the next talk. With social media, everyone has the potential to be the next Kevin Rose or Dooce or Julia Allison, and it is now our responsibility to manage our online identities and reputation ourselves. In the days of micro-celebrity, everyone needs to be their own PR firm. And that is incredibly weird.

Who Will Check My Email When I Die?

Organized by John Romano and Matt Ludwig, this conversation became incredibly heated and passionate very quickly. From the schedule:

Ever wondered what will happen to your digital existence after you die? E-mail, images, domain names, social networking content – do you want to leave it behind, “bequeath” it, or delete it? Come discuss legal, technical, and philosophical issues that will define your death and your digital afterlife.

Now, this one was a little close to home for me. Since Zane died, his MySpace page has remained active, with his old friends continuing to post notes to him… I do it myself. And I’ve never been able to wrap my head around it, about why we feel compelled to do this.

So, the basic gist is this: We have created massive amounts of content in the cloud. Our blog posts, Flickr uploads, Facebook pages, Twitter updates, etc. all add up to create a compelling picture of ourselves. But what happens to that content when we are no longer around? Do the rights revert to the company providing the service? To our next of kin? To anyone? Online identity is not legally considered an asset, so how can it be packaged such that it IS an asset and can be bequeathed. There were no answers to these questions, but it is vitally important that we consider them now.

And I guess, when it comes down to it, that was my thought on all three panels. There are no answers yet. This is all still too new (and love, sex, and death too old) for there to be any easy solutions. But the important part is that people are thinking about it. That I am thinking about it. And that, to me, is what SXSW should be all about.

+ Sit as close to the front of the plane as possible. This allows you easy access to the door as soon as the plane lands.
+ Ignore the taxis and airport shuttles. If your hotel does not have a free shuttle, find a city bus (got from AUS to downtown for 75 cents)
+ Pack virtually noting, or everything you could possibly need. There is no middle ground.
+ Kentucky coffee on the plane makes the trip go by real fast (especially if the bourbon is 101 proof Wild Turkey)
+ Beer counts as dinner. Taco trucks count as dessert. BBQ counts as breakfast.
+ Get out from behind the camera and experience an unmediated life. Yes I’ll be taking pictures, but the key is that memories work better than digital photographs.
+ Same goes for Twitter. I’ll be posting, and I’ll be checking in on Brightkite, but if you’re stuck in your phone, you’re missing out on so much potential.

Pictures and Day 1 recap coming tonight or tomorrow morning.

Another service I’ve been way into recently is tarpipe. Basically, it’s a stripped down Yahoo Pipes for social media services. It looks something like this:

This workflow allows me to email a specific address a picture. The picture is uploaded to Flickr and Facebook, then the link to the Flickr page is shortened using Tinyurl (I’ve since switched to is.gd), and it is posted to my Twitter with the subject line of the email as the text in my tweet. The developers are really responsive on Twitter and getsatisfaction, and seem to be consistently adding new functionality. Once they get blogging support, expect to see some updates from there as well.

What the fuck ever.

2008 was an interesting one, but the important parts came only at the very end. Newly single, I made some interesting realizations that have since come out elsewhere. Boiling them down to merely the talking points:

1. I am happier now than I ever have been in my life.
2. This despite the fact that I am unhappily single.
3. Where, until recently, I was convinced I wanted nothing in my life that I could not drop at a moment’s notice, I now realize that I am ready in many ways to settle down. I don’t want this immediately, but I see in my future marriage, property, and children. And sooner than later.
4. AND THIS ALL FREAKS ME THE SHIT OUT!!!
5. Within the next, say, five years I would like the following to be true: I am married, or am with someone I would want to marry; I have a child, or am with someone I would want to have a child with; I own an apartment, condo, or house in San Francisco; I am running my own company; I have colored in the eye of the bird on my right arm [1]; we have gotten Zane’s book published. These goals are obviously not set in stone. If I am not married at 32, it’s not like I’m going to jump off a fucking cliff. But these goals set a tone for where I am at now, and where I’d like to be in the near future.
6. DID I MENTION THAT THIS SHIT FREAKS ME OUT NO FUCKING END?! LIKE, SERIOUSLY! A KID?! AM I READY FOR THAT?! GAHHHHHHHHHH!

Hmm. Growing up is an interesting thing, innit?