Reinventing the Internet

As has become embarrassingly clear over the past year, I'm not at all sure what to do with this space anymore. This is not an uncommon phenomena, in fact, my blogger mentors have all been through one or more mid-blog crisis: Alison slowed down, Ryan shut down and then reinvented his site.

Other things have happened, too, since 2003. Flickr happened. Facebook happened. All my friends moved away, and I stopped teaching. My life got a lot less interesting, or at least less blogable. (The ethics of blogging while teaching are debatable, too, and I don't care to debate it.)

Things got really private for awhile. Blogger deleted all my posts from 2003-2004, and I was crushed, and then I got over it. Tumblr happened and I couldn't get into it. LinkedIn happened, and that was good for my professional career. Facebook expanded to older (than me) generations, and suddenly Moms were friending me. The iPhone happened, and I was connected ALL THE TIME. Twitter happened and I was like NONONONONO and then, finally, ok.

Other people in my immediate circle are still successful at blogging. I enjoy Mindy's updates about her life and about her daughter, and I imagine what an amazing baby book it will make. Babies across the globe will one day have access to their early years in detail that is mind boggling to me.

For the most part, my family members either do not understand or are justifiably concerned about our (our = the world's) growing internet presence. I share their hesitation and try to stay private/censored/professional as much as I can, while staying true to myself and enjoying the ease of connectivity and a public outlet for creative ideas.

I am not the first one to question the merits of staying connected to people I would otherwise grow apart from, and I have on many an occasion cut contacts ruthlessly and without remorse. Would I go out of my way to say hello to you in a crowded space? No? Then I wish you well, and you do not need to have access to my personal profile. Do we have any past interactions that make regular updates feel "a little weird"? Goodbye, friend, and go in peace.

The point is -- and after all these characters, I do have a point -- you see, Twitter would have cut me off LONG AGO because, like Mr. Moore my 9th grade English teacher, it is all: Get to the beach! -- the point is that ponycrusher will stay, until blogger decides to cruelly and unusually erase everything I have written over the last five years. The point is, I'm stretched in more internet directions, and that is ok. It is good to be concise. It is good to let the picture speak for itself. And it is good to, every now and then, post the diatribe that ties several ideas together. It is good to document. And good to know when to let it all go.