So, I finished my media fast by spending the past ten hours straight browsing.

BROWSING THE INTERNET.

God, so decadent. So refreshey. So awesome.

I read articles, I hit F5 on my email every 22 seconds, I vowed to became a more forthright stalker on my favorite blogs and vowed never, ever, ever to attempt a media fast again.

And then our water main broke and we were without water for four days.

But before that, we had one of those crazy nights with new friends where we danced and twirled and listened to new music and our dogs chased each other and thankfully they had a guest room.

[Have I mentioned all the awesome late twenty/early thirtysomethings in this town? Every week we make fabulous new friends to drink wine with, play bocce with, eat proscuitto with and discuss the merits of Sonoma Coast Riesling versus the Riesling from Alexander Valley. Dude. Why don't you live here yet?]

Plus! There was brunch! At the Boonfly Cafe at the Carneros Inn where Jessica and Nick stayed! Of which Mayor Newsom is part owner!

WORK RELATED:
If you’re not from California or Utah, (due to lame laws that prohibit alcohol producers from giving you prizes–write your senator!) please enter the Build a Better Burger contest.

Michael Buffington and I worked hard on the site. And I’m pretty excited about it.

Also, James got the new xBox this week, so you and I? We should hang out.

With his new, shiny manroom, and the only thing bringing him downstairs is dinner.

I’m just kidding.

He also comes down to get beer.

(Check out this set as a slide show at a 1 second inteval)

So goodness gracious.

James and I took a sushi class, we dropped off our old monitors and CPUs at the Napa electronic recycling event and started a media fast.

But Helen Jane, media fast? How is it that you’re posting info to your web site?

Oh, here’s how the rules of our media fast work:
5 days
No TV or movies
No reading, not of magazines, nor books
No music with lyrics
Check email merely as you have to for your job
No surfing the interweb.
You can create anything you want \

I’ve been on juice fasts, man fasts and water fasts. But never have I been without tv, movies and reading for as long as right now (4 days).

Damn, it’s hard.

I’ve been doing that Artist’s Way stuff, and on Week Five, yep, it’s media fast time. You stay away from all the incoming info so that your brain can actually listen to what it wants, what’s going on around you and what it needs to do.

But, did I mention that it was hard?

I walk in with the mail, a pile of magazines, catalogs and NetFlix movies that I can’t look at for five long, brutal days.

I sit at work with my clicker finger, ready to browse through my favorite web logs, ready to look at my news sites, ready to find out what’s going on in internetland.

But I don’t, instead, I make phone calls, I make drawings, I do a cartwheel.

During this week, James’ manroom is getting a redesign, I’m learning all about new dishes and I’m catching up on all the thank you phone calls and cards that I should have sent out months ago.

Have you ever thought about a media fast?
Have you ever thought you could go without your surfing and scanning?
Have you ever died a little inside?

Let me mention again, it’s hard.
But as I find myself tuning into a touch of creativity, it’s totally worth it.

How long can you go without media?

Overwhelmed, overwhelmed.

Over, the whelm.
Mega. Whelmed.

There are so many things, so much vye for my attention, so many things on the first on the list on the list on the list on the list.

I’ve flaked and delayed and delayed and forgotten and I like it this way.

Do I like it this way?
No. Certainly not.

I like it slow, meandery.
But sometimes I don’t.

I remember, being unemployed, at home all day, how time crawled, how I would have given anything ANYTHING for some people and something to DO and someone to TALK to and please hire me in your office so that I can show you that I Am Lovable And Capable.

(digression)

Did you have to do that? An IALAC card?

Back at F. Middle School, our health teacher had us write IALAC on a piece of paper, punch two holes near the top and tie a string around it. IALAC stood for “I Am Lovable And Capable.”

We were to hang it around our necks for the day and any time someone said something mean to us, we ripped a piece off.

Because, then everyone could see that who, exactly, was less lovable and capable.

This was middle school. And twelve year olds can be some of the nastiest, meanest, least thoughtful creatures in the world.

So some of us ripped our IALAC signs to shreds and some of us left our IALAC papers around our necks untouched, no matter what was said.

(remembered: a water ballon tossed near my locker that may or may not have contained pee as well as getting detention because I had joked that there was a swear in my first name as well as Jason Curtis telling me that I would never have a boyfriend because I was FAT and FLAT. And all the boys around him laughed because Helen Yeager was indeed fat and flat.)

And yet, my IALAC sign remained intact.

(/digression)

Is that what I’m going through right now?

My failure due to overcommitment makes me feel much less lovable and capable, despite the appearance of my sign.

But it’s the weekend, and we have no plans and we can grill shrimps or we cannot and I can always say no and still be loveable and capable.

Lovable and capable.
You, my friend, are both.