Over the weekend I attended a birthday party for a long time friend. Like my recent experience on the Internet, I've been out of touch with these people as well. I blame work like I always do, but what I learned was that so did everybody else.

Me: "So what have you been up to lately? I haven't seen you in forever."

Them: "Eh, work."

It was everyone's answer. I hear this is what happens when you become an adult.

Eventually, after formality, we all return to relating actual anecdotes of what the past year has been like for most of us. It seems that in 2011, we all drifted apart pretty easily. It took the birthday of our good friend to bring us all back together.

The birthday boy in question had been a bandmate of mine, and I still consider him a musical colleague. The other former band members were also in attendance at this party. We all caught up talking about music and musicianship. The conversation felt natural. It's like that year of distance hadn't even happened.

I used to think that some friendships were easy because they were convenient, but that's not what brought us all closer together again. It's actually rather inconvenient for all of us to keep tabs on each other because we've all become constant workers.

So what made our friendships so easy to pick up again after such a long time away? It never struck me until we all had to leave the party.

As the drummer of our old band was getting up to leave the party, he extended his hand to me to say goodbye. I almost grabbed his hand and gave him a traditional "bro hug"¹ but as my hand rose to meet his, some weird instinct kicked in and I suddenly raised my hand over my head. I wasn't even sure what I was doing. He responded by rotating his extended hand palm upwards, and we proceeded to go through the motions of our secret handshake², something we hadn't done since our last rehearsal over a year ago.

When the unannounced handshake was completed we both looked up at each other in astonishment.

Him: "Dude, it was good to see you."

Me: "You too, it's been too long."

Him: "Stay in touch, okay?"

Me: "I'm always around, somehow."

• Work
• Chased down an invoice into a dark alley and beat a paycheck out of it
• After missing one deadline way back, all others were met and I'm ready to launch a site this week.
• • Revisions I have to do tonight for this project are super easy
• After slow development, I'm ready to launch another client's site this month.
• Got solicited for more work through a reliable referral.
• Internal projects are rolling again. Stoked.
• Internet
• Discovered Betty White is on Twitter
• Discovered Ze Frank's show is back
• An episode for my favorite podcast was released today. That was expected, but I always look forward to it.
• Got retweeted by Wheezywaiter's girlfriend, and I hope it's not too stalker-y to know that but whatever, it still made my day.
• Note: That tweet is the most shared tweet I've ever tweet... er, what past participle of "tweet"? Tweeten? Regardless, I know it's not consequential in any way but for someone who has always felt unpopular, knowing people shared your tweet feels good, man.
• Weather
• It's raining again in Los Angeles. I love rain!¹

Look at that list. It's a bunch of random and seemingly insignificant crap. It actually doesn't look that special at all. I was late for my meeting this morning and that should have set the tone for a bad day, but it's that list of crap that makes me still consider today a good day.

So, this post is more for me than it is for you, but there are some days I'd like to remember, and today is one of them. And now that I think about it, what if every day could be like this? Alright, that's unrealistic, but if it's that easy for me to be happy, why doesn't this happen more often?

Actually, wait, it's probably all due to the paycheck.

Nevermind.

Now that we have that out of the way, I'm going to be honest and declare my lack of ability to re-engage with the Internet. It's not that I don't know how it's done, it's that a lot of the friendships I formed on the web have drifted into other avenues, and with my free time now dedicated to work, I'm wondering how to stay in touch.

The Avenues: Vlogging has bonded me with other people with webcams, tweeting and Gchat has given me easier access to "what's going on" in others' lives, email keeps me in touch with the others in the web development industry, Tumblr ties me with others in similar fandoms. I have a Facebook account because it's obligatory, and there's no need for me to check out "interesting" things there because all the share-able stuff people post has already been posted ages ago on Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter, what-have-you.¹

But this blog? It used to be my home, and comments reminded me about others' homes I'd often visit. They'd give me cookies and make me feel like I've been there before.² It was a good thing. Bloggers are, in my experience, good people.

Then, work took over I became my work. It's on my mind all of the time. When you stop working in an office, the world becomes the office. I compulsively check my phone for work emails. Part of my small-talk regimen includes, but is not limited to: "Are you working on any personal projects? Do you need a website?" I stay up late coding because of the mantra, just one more change, just one more edit, just one more tweak.

All the free moments that were spent catching up on others' thoughts and feelings have turned into staring at lines of code. And I miss everyone. Even dropping into 20SB has elicited the comment, "Holy crap, a Nico sighting!"³

The point is my free time reflex used to be "Fuck yea! Time to catch up on blogs!" but this has over the past handful of months become "GET TO WORK NAO OMG YOU ARE DEAD IF U R NOT WRKN OH GOD OH GOD SWEET MONKEY GOOD LORD SWEET NECTAR NECTARINE PLANTAIN."⁴ I'm wondering how to realign this. Internet pals are important and I need to start making some changes so that they know they are important.

If you're reading this, my question is simple:

Innanet, wat do?⁵

Remember that time I vlogged in 2012? Yeah.

Anyway, you can catch me Mondays on this collab.

I'm not sure if people still read this blog, and while I always tend to say that after unreasonably long breaks¹, bloggers tend to have an implicit knowledge that writing these seemingly trivial ruminations is for the sake of self-edification.²

I've said before that one of the reasons I keep a blog is because I'm forgetful. It's not that I'm absent-minded, it's that I'm distracted. You know that interview question, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" Dude, I just hope I'm alive. That is the extent to which I can envision the future.

Right, ok, so I blog because I want to remember things, but in October of 2010, I screwed up and wiped my old database. Tabula rasa. It was a bummer. However, lately I have been shuffling things between servers and as it turns out there was an old copy of the database lying around somewhere, it just wasn't hooked up to anything. So I thought that I'd export it, re-import it to a test blog, and see what was in it.

My bloggy past has been recovered. I read through all of the posts to see what was worth keeping, and while I'm still sorting through it all over on archive.nicopolitan.com, what's amazing is that it's mostly intact. Man, I was, (and probably still am) a terrible writer. How did I even make friends on the internet? What is wrong with you people?³

My point is that I'm already at the point in my blog-life where looking back on old posts is becoming a profound identity experience, especially with the I can only concentrate on what's in front of me year I've had in 2011. As such, I'm coming up with a lot of questions about who I am versus who I was. Since I'm feeling pretty removed from the past, I'm wondering if my perception of my past self resembles at all what others think about me, and if I am at all capable of shaping how others see me now. Can I really control the present? Have I ever been able to do this? 

Thinking further, I still need to catch up on commenting on everyone else's blogs, because the way that I perceive them (or you) is generally in high regard. One day at a time, I suppose.

And on that note, what have you written lately? And what did you write years ago?

I've long been an opponent of cynicism in most respects. I think this talk exposes a lot more than it lets on.

So get out there and do something that makes you happy.

Watch this video on YouTube.

Nico's Narrator:

Gasp for breath. Not drowned. Lungs still filled with the muddied 2011 water. Cough it up. Shake it off.

You will remind your friends of theirs.

Smiling in the face of adversity is starting to feel like a lie.

Going to withdraw for a while.

This may be entirely subjective, but from where I sit, there is a surprisingly sophisticated self-awareness that comes from the internet generations (mine and those that are younger). While we complain about petty things, we are aware that others have it much worse, and refer to these complaints as "first world problems." We make it a point to shun those who are acting entitled. And more and more, I'm finding that as much as it's common on the internet to be snide, sincerity also exists in similar numbers.

My point is, I realize the goodness inherent to saying you're thankful, but I'm sitting here on this side of the screen and thinking, "Yeah, I know. You always were."

Maybe bloggers spoil me, but I don't see there being a lack of deeper appreciation for things, regardless of the time of the year.

And maybe I have the rest of the internet to thank for that.

In the first year of being a full-time independent contractor, I've been cutting back on spending so that I could conserve what little money I do make, and since I'm close to doing it already, I want to try out a hyper-minimalist lifestyle that may or may not actually change my entire life (or at least it will for an entire year). And why am I telling you this? I need to make myself accountable. Having said (or published?) this publicly, I am now responsible for upholding a promise.

There. Now, who says blogs aren't useful? ;)

Anyway, I hope I don't have to amend to the project, because I think I've got it figured out for the most part. I've outlined what I am able to do and what I am not able to do, along with some exceptions. I'm not necessarily planning on working 24/7 -- even though many weeks sure do feel like that. No, the objective is really for me to become frugal, not batshit insane. There is a lot of room for leisure, but what I'm suggesting is that that leisure does not always have to come at a price.

Reader, I humbly introduce to you A Year On The Clock.¹

The clock starts now.