The Day the Internet Died. Part 1.

I want to pose a question to the universe.

What will, what would, what could we do...on the day the internet collapses? The whole thing. Down in one shot. Everyone would call their provider or unplug and plug again. Everyone would grab their cell phone to check google to see what Comcast was saying. There would be no google. Who would they call? Who would I call? I think my day would go something like...this...

Wake up. Stretch a little bit, wriggle around and debate staying home from work. Realize I left something vital at the office (on paper, probably) and couldn't ideally telecommute today, so I get out of bed. Trip over a cat or two and stumble to the pink morning light-glowy bathroom. Weigh myself.

"Nicely done. .5 pounds. I'll have to update RealAge later."

Brush my teeth, maybe utilize a little strategic astringent. SPF-i-size. Take a little stroll up the catwalk to get dressed in the artificial arctic of my room. Pick out...

[well, would it be a Comcast day or a non-Comcast day? Let's say Comcast day, for sake of looking fancy. And being in the room with my client on the day of No Internet.]

...a fluttery skirt, some sandals and a top that somehow makes sense. My fashion has no rhyme. Only color. Descend the stairs, where Jess is on the phone with Comcast Customer Service and gives me giant rolling eyes. It's probably about 6:33. OK, let's be real. 6:55. I shrug off the fact I cannot facebook or tweet or look at the weather or do 3 minutes of work, but pack my charged up laptop up anyway. I've actually somehow saved time, not wasted it.

I walk to the train, listening to my ipod, filled with music I bought legally from itunes. I spend the train ride putting on make up and reading Vanity Fair. I make a mental note to look up, say, Francis Bacon when I get to work.

I walk up the great big Comcast stairs, into the belly of the center- the 4 story high lobby. I look up where the great LCD, the Comcast experience usually is.

And I need to back track here. I may not use the internet much before work. But the world does.

I am unclear on the scale and depth of the chaos that would have occurred from the down time to the time I wake, depending on how long that is...but I have to say, I kind of got self involved there. Street lights and traffic grids and power and water and trains and lights and the people of the world might be lost and confused and giving up on the day already. But I digress. Let's say they're not. Let's say it started at my house and moved outward as I traveled to the city...

To be continued.

Magic Happens...

...when you least expect it. And sometimes when you do kind of expect it, but doubt that it will actually materialize, it does.

I followed my heart and intuition to NY on Friday for my friend Cal's whirlwind USA-visit party and to see my forever long-lost friend Justin who has recently planted himself in Brooklyn, despite only having $100 until my next paycheck.

And here I am, only $57 poorer, having traveled the globe and met 1,000,000 people. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. But I came away with a new white tank top, a pair of CVS moon-boot flip flops, a homemade mix disc of world music, a giant rooster glass and a 1940s water pitcher. Not to mention about 4,398 photos. You can see my up and coming photo galleries on picasa or just on facebook, which, let's be real...is where the pictures seem to be these days.

So, I don't think I made out too badly, in terms of monetary decrease to material gain and emotional release. I got to have a Magner's on ice at Niall's. I got to see old friends from college and high school...and, as always, meet brand new ones. I got to share my Sharpies with a drunken man at Pete's Candy Shop while trying to dictate the name of the band playing (Barons in the Attic, or as he wrote on his hand, Barons in vthe Atti c,) as his date was giving my friend a long range lap dance. I refused pie and felt proud and refused drugs and felt even prouder. I slept on a kitchen floor and only thought briefly about the bugs that may end up in my hair. (None were found- if they did, they only visited and left politely before I woke.) I woke at 7:21 and left a note on my folded blankets and proceeded to walk to Bedford Avenue and just be. I was greeted in New Jersey by Michael, my tiny gamma ray of a man, with a rainbow boa "lai" and a small shower of rose petals. I was treated to a picnic of fresh mozzarella, Jersey tomato and Wertlieb Family Garden Basil sandwiches, in the middle of the Radburn, NJ park, the hippie Jewish commune town in Fair Lawn. I fell in love with them. I saw butterflies. I didn't look at a clock for hours. I listened to cicadas and didn't get angry. I made peace with my big toes and their corpulence. I navigated to Bryn Mawr with sleepy wrong turns and missed exits. I made the bed. I made drinks. I made Mike smile. I had an outfit concocted for me, before my eyes, out of a pair of dress pants and half a pair of leggings. I applied make up in the dark speeding car. I took a breath and opened my eyes to see far more than I had seen in some time. I touched a latex hand-mold. I watched a woman's back get pierced. I watched a man suspend a woman by cords and carabeners. I applied mascara to a friend in a cage. I danced with leather clad and lace clad and bunny-costume clad party-goers. I played leader. And I played follower. I rolled with the punches. I laughed at myself. I swallowed my pride. I had fun. I ran in the rain. I sat in my office in dark eye makeup and packed my laptop bag. I bought fruit and eggs at 4AM. I got checked out by a teenager (agh!) while in shorts and heels. I felt tall. I am tall. I slept and slept and slept til 11:30. I made eggs and silver dollar pancakes. I was fed pancakes by a gentle clover-honey-bearing man as I flipped the ones cooking. I made mix tapes. I was baptized by Amma holy water and hugged by my tiny vagabond. I debated jumping in his car and running away from home to roam. I took stock and decided instead to wave goodbye. I joined Jess to fold and purge my clothing collection and reorganize my room and listen to a tale of whirlwind romance. I feel cleansed. I feel new. Again.

And it is time....to start the week all over again. After, of course, some veggies and beans and steak and Wall-E. And sewing. I am going to try to approach all things this week with the zennist of zen minds. And an eye on accuracy and efficiency. Cropping down excesses seems to be working out well for me. Don't spend unnecessarily, don't worry, don't procrastinate, don't get sidetracked, don't dally; just do the basics. Mantra, written. Now, to make that steak...