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1�0�1�0�1�0�1�0�0�1 2002-02-11, 10:35 a.m.

decisiveness, for a change


I'm so excited that I can barely write about it. I had an epiphany this weekend, one that I've been working up to for awhile now, and now that I've made the decision, I can't wait to get started. I've decided that I'm going to go into business for myself before the year is out. This could take six months or it could take 12. But I am finally at a point where I know I can make a living at it, by tapping in to all the contacts and knowledge I've acquired in my short (six-year) career. I think the most satisfying part of this realization is that I finally have the self-confidence to think in terms of "I can do this" rather than "There's no possible way I can do this." But I've done a lot of soul-searching and truly believe I would be happy, at least for a year or two, just writing and designing, and with a few books a year from Rockport, some steady freelance writing work from the magazines and constant querying and applying for contract positions, I could put together a fun, fulfilling living. And I could have a dog, and live wherever I wanted, and be a happy, relaxed human being. Which is quickly (practically overnight) becoming my biggest priority.

I can't wait to get started.

My first step is developing a business plan. I want to spend the next few weeks brainstorming about every thing I'll need to consider when developing this plan. All the possible means of income, all the possible roadblocks (financially and otherwise), everything I need to learn or do to prepare myself. I want to talk to as many people as I can to get advice, tap into my online writing lists, do serious research. I'm looking forward to that part as much as the actual work.

A.'s being really supportive. I love him for that (and for everything else).

We went to the city to see a little independent theater production on Saturday night. That was very cool, though A. and I agreed it was slightly pretentious. However, there's a little country-blues band that plays music for all this playwright's productions that did some tunes before and during the show, and I fell in love with them. They plan around town, mostly at the Rite Spot in the Mission, so I'm determined to become a groupie.

I feel so healthy and motivated.

And, now peeking at the underside of those emotions, shortly after I was talking about the painfully theatrical online diaries of teenagers the other day, my friend Liz forwarded me the link to my former boss's teenage daughter's Web journal. Reading it at age 28, when I'm finally emerging from my hormonally-induced gloom, I find it sad and tragic, but then have to remind myself that everything is sad and tragic at age 17. Here's a passage:

I wish I werent so cold, that I could feel emotions a little more. Just a tiny bit more. I feel like I'm not even human when I get this cold. I feel like this creature who wasnt made for earth, wasnt made for love, wasnt made to have parents who need her love more than she needs theirs, wasnt made to be whatever i am inside a childs body. I feel so alone. Tonight I'm supposed to go out into the astral under the full moon and meet him or her. And I'm afraid. I want to be a child alittle longer, if I ever was one. Somehow the loss of self I feel sometimes when I'm meditating makes me understand the oneness of everything and everyone. Othertimes, it just makes me feel like I'm the only thing out there in that totally endless void. Theres something about infinity thats terrifying. I don't want to face it tonight. I want to crawl into my moms arms and cry. Its my own fault I can't, of course. Its always my own fault when I push people away. Its my stupid ego, false or no, its huge. Not in the sense that I'm vain, in the sense that I can't ever be messed up anything. I don't know. I don't know why I can't ... I don't know





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