this email to my parents sums it up best.
photo credit Damon Cortesi (c) 2009
———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Laura Fitton <email@example.com>
Date: Wed, Sep 23, 2009 at 12:13 PM
Subject: launch day: jitters & fun news
To: Dave or Cyndi Fitton <firstname.lastname@example.org
all is on course – LOTS of blogs are going to cover our website launch today. i am really happy and surprisingly calm , sitting in my hotel room working.
definitely a little keyed up, but not bad. my friend Anil Dash who has launched stuff before just gave me a little pep talk via IM – "it's the starting line not the finish line."
i am doing the last few bits of work before heading over to the conference for the day. meanwhile in Boston the guys are kicking butt – fixing bugs, adding features, they've gotten an incredible amount of work done in the past few weeks. oneforty has an amazing team now. we're very lucky.
great article in MassHighTech this morning that I did not know was going to be ONLY about us (i thought he was interviewing many companies that started in recessions) http://bit.ly/aNNTa
and a great laugh — Pee Wee Herman was the surprise guest at the conference last night and i got the chance to give him a copy of Twitter for Dummies… (see pic attached)
it cuts off right as i give him the book but i'm amazed that someone caught it at all. it all happened very fast… here' how i described it to my editor at Wiley…
that's just how my life's been the last 2 years. these little moments just seem to happen. i was holding the book wondering how to give it away at that event. then he appears (surprise guest) and starts to struggle with how to tweet.
it was like a hammer from the sky whacked me on the head.
then the fact PeeWee mugged with the book and that my friend damon just happened to nail the photo of it. crazy. perfect storm.
Anyhow, love you guys! Talk to ya later.
A note from Kevin Marks: I liked this bit in Cory(Doctorow)'s Makers book:
"Here’s what being a career activist means: you are on the road most of the time. When you get on the road, you meet people, have intense experiences with them—like going to war or touring with a band. You fall in love a thousand times. And then you leave all those people behind. You get off a plane, turn some strangers into best friends, get on a plane and forget them until you come back into town, and then you take it all back up again.
“If you want to survive this, you’ve got to love that. You’ve got to get off a plane, meet people, fall in love with them, treasure every moment, and know that moments are all you have. Then you get on a plane again and you love them forever. Otherwise, every new meeting is sour because you know how soon it will end. It’s like starting to say your summer-camp goodbyes before you’ve even unpacked your duffel-bag. You’ve got to embrace—or at least forget—that every gig will end in a day or two.”
i think the absolute central challenge in life is to learn to not be afraid of who you actually are.
1. be kind and fair to everyone.
2. don't worry whether or not anyone likes you.
3. help people.
5. act. (get excited and share it)
6. love yourself.
7. love others. (try radical forgiveness)
8. gratitude for everything.
9. hope is your only hope. (and fear is your only worry)
10. be present.
BONUS: adversity is an opportunity: ask yourself, when something goes wrong, "what bullet did i just dodge?"
"You only blinched inside," said Pooh, "and that's the bravest way for a Very Small Animal not to blinch that there is."
as a lapsed agnostic christian (I KNOW, right? like there are agnostic christians “in good standing?”), this might sound strange, but maundy thursday is a really important (obscure religious) holiday for me.
my (south glastonbury congregational) church held a somber candlelit service on maundy thursday evenings. they became a special thing i would do with mom. but what caught my heart wasn’t the sip of “wine,” the melancholy tone or the rare quiet darkness in church. what stays with me to this day is the abject humanity of jesus in the stories of the last supper, the betrayal, the denial and above all, in gethsemane.
he’s human. he’s sad. he’s stoic and humble and passionate, as ever. but he also aches, and let’s us know. he’s alone… his closest disciples cannot even stay awake even though he’s admitted to them how freaked out and upset he feels about what is coming.
“Could you not watch one hour with me?”
despite his entreaties, they fall asleep repeatedly. he’s alone. he’s scared. and while he bears up in his particularly jesus-y way and goes on into the morning of the passion, for a moment he does blinch inside.
“If it be thy will, let this cup pass from me”
he’s asking to sit out the round. he’s asking for a literal passover (the last supper was a seder, no?) from the suffering he knows to be his fate. he’s all “look it’s cool, i’ll do it if that’s what you need me to do, but, um, err…”
it makes the parables and the sayings and the lessons so much more real. it casts into stronger relief the many stories that sound so ridiculously “holier than thou” that it’s hard for the average person to relate to behaving in the ways jesus modeled. the many many times he does not blinch. it makes me connect to the human being inside those stories with so much more credence and interest.
Tango ’til They’re SoreWell you play that tarantella all the hounds will start to roarThe boys all go to hell and then the cubans hit the floorThey drive along the pipeline, they tango ’til they’re soreThey take apart their nightmares and they leave them by the doorLet me fall out of the window with confetti in my hairDeal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairsI’ll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my pastAnd send me off to bed for evermoreMake sure they play my theme song, I guess daisies will have to doJust get me to new orleans and paint shadows on the pewsTurn the spit on that pig and kick the drum and let me downPut my clarinet beneath your bed ’til I get back in townLet me fall out of the window with confetti in my hairDeal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairsI’ll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my pastSo send me off to bed for evermoreJust make sure she’s all in calico and the color of a dollWave the flag on cadillac day, and a skillet on the wallCut me a switch or hold your breath ’til the sun goes downWrite my name on the hood, send me off to another town, and justAnd just let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hairDeal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairsTell you all my secrets, but I lie about my pastWill you send me off to bed for evermoreFall out of the window with confetti in my hairDeal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairsI’ll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my pasti frigging love Tom Waits, but I still don't understand why i like this song so much.Send me off to bed for evermore, send me off to bed for evermore
rememberingforgotten things i never knew. humbled. thirsty to learn. grateful.where to begin? your (aggregate) work amazes me. your energy.
thank you.someof it is in escaping & reinventing context. framing. perspectives.priorities. but most is in listening. watching. seeking out.
it's only just seeping in how much you inspired me.
my cup runs over. so i'm afraid to spill it. maybe instead i'll pour it out somewhere it can do some good. then refill.
(some tweeted reflections on my melted brainstate on the Sunday evening after #fooeast. just starting to appreciate the incredible minds that were brought together and how each is the node of amazing work, and the possibilities in broadening my mind by following and thinking about their work more… the experience was synaptic, connective. the challenge now is to remix the ideas and energy and listening and learning.)
Zemanta, which I LOVE for adding related content: tags, links, images, related articles, etc. is now showing itself within my Gmail interface. Nifty.
But also a bit funny.
Like, the unflattering picture of me serving food at a picnic in my backyard that keeps coming up. Yippeee!
What snippets of YOUR digital life float up in the post-search world?
Links and pictures with help of Zemanta