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A Blog About Bloggin' |
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Clutterfuck. 3:33 am PST
I’ve been doin’ this bloggin’ thing for a long time. This January, Phetasy will be turning 6-years old. In this time, not only has she become my Savior and best friend, she’s become my giant online closet I’ve just been throwin’ stuff in—hoping that one day, it will just magically organize itself. Unfortunately for me, the Mary Poppins robots have not taken over the interweb (yet) and this is not the case.
In the past 6 years, Phetasy and I have been through a lot together. A fuck of a lot: A six-month road trip. Two website crashes. Two computer crashes (although I am still using the original Mac I wrote every last thing on this site with, not to mention a screenplay, 3 teleplays and all the video content). I’m not even touching the heartache, family dramas, financial meltdowns and emotional upheavals I’ve survived. Some of these struggles I will eventually write about, some will go with me to my watery grave.
Truthfully, it’s a miracle this site is still up and operational at all. Phetasy has no reason to exist (other than for the pure sake of torturing me while saving me at the same time). There have been many moments I ask myself what the fuck I am doing.
What the fuck am I doing? Well, it’s a funny story, as you would have it…
I’ve mentioned, (have I mentioned this? I think I have…but I feel like a Goddamned Alzheimer's patient. I don’t even know what I’ve mentioned or not any more…) that my web guys say I built an “invisible web site” because I didn’t META tag any of my 400 blogs. (Although, from the research I’ve done, this means very little for driving traffic to a site). But, nonetheless, in an effort to “FOCUS” (that tangent is percolating) and "LISTEN TO OTHER PEOPLE'S DUMB ADVICE" (ok, the "dumb advice" part was my editorial addition) I am trying to do right by my site and tag her up.
I started this endeavor 5 days ago. I’ve been moving from the oldest blogs and articles forward in time. The process is tedious. While I engage in this menial, fucking-boring-as-hell task, I’m also taking care of minor edits, making sure all the fonts are the same, etc…just some light housecleaning. It’s not long before I realize that this process is far more than monotonous—it’s emotionally draining—and therein lies precisely the reason I have avoided the whole, messy project. (Is it just me or am I sounding like Sherlock Holmes tonight?)
Aside from shedding an occasional, single tear over a tender memory of one of the many mother-lovers in my life I no longer speak to; or feeling the embarrassing pang of humiliation that comes with staring youthful idealism--and failure--square in the face...everything goes along relatively smoothly.
That is, until I notice a couple of blogs are missing pictures. This isn’t shocking. Quite a bit of material, particularly photos, have gone AWOL in one of the two great Phetasy crashes of the late 2000’s. I download Fetch and start cruisin’ around the dusty, disorganized, ancient files that make up the world 2 of you have come to know and love.
A mad woman under a full moon, I start rearranging files in the hopes of bringing some order to the chaotic master photo file, so innocently labeled “content_images”. Not long after I start moving shit around, do I realize that in doing so—I’ve now removed the images from their root source and have to go back into every article on Phetasy and replace the photos. Jeepers H. Creepers, you’ve got to be motherfuckin’ kidding me. This fact then leads to my discovery of a glaring design flaw that is built deep into the infrastructure of the whole site. Fuck. I can clean up house. But I can't clean up code.
Holy shit. This place is a fuckin’ mess. Light housecleaning my ass. This website needs the cyber-version of 6 deep spring cleanings. If it’s any reflection of me ("If any..." Ha! Phetasy is a GIANT reflection of me—it’s me in 1’s and 0’s!) then it’s stands to reason I’m a fuckin’ mess, too. This truth is about as hard for me to swallow as an orange Tic-Tac.
I need only glance around my place to see that fact. Actually, not glance around. Dig around. Sure, everything is clean, but disorganization lurks beneath every surface. There is a box of un-filed paperwork lurking in a closet that also needs tidying. All of my clothes could use a good go-through, purge and organizing. My inbox is nearly full. My garage has been taken over by 2 other people and I have no idea what the fuck is going on. There could be 2 trolls and a Keebler Elf living in there and I wouldn’t have a clue. The kitchen cabinets need straightening. I have two external hard drives that have 6 years of material in various stages of development that desperately must be consolidated. I need to hunker down and get crackin' on some chores, Little House On the Prairie style.
My desire, when I get to this point, is to say "Fuck it", head to the beach and daydream about starting from scratch. I fantasize about putting all of my clothes in a pile and lighting them on fire—and throwing all of my paperwork for my 2010 taxes (I got an extension this year) right on top. I envision the tabula rasa of a new computer, the unworn keys smooth under my fingertips. A newer, simpler version of Phetasy, with brand new Flash and easy-to-navigate interface; a website that makes sense, instead of being a complete and total clusterfuck.
When I was 19 in rehab, the lesbians who ran the place and saved my life had an expression: CLUTTERED ROOM. CLUTTERED MIND. It’s 3:33 am. My monthly, full moon insomnia is in full force—and my website, my life and mind are all extremely cluttered.
So bear with me, 2 readers, while Phetasy, my material life and I embark on a thorough, fearless and much-needed inventory. The site as you know it will be no more. No more Scattergories. No more dead sections with contributors here today, gone tomorrow. Most of the writing will be consolidated into the Captain’s Blog so it’s all gloriously in one place. The lost pictures from my 2006 "Phetasy Tour" may even magically surface. IMAGINE THAT!?! As I root through the old stuff, I can already tell it’s going to inspire quite a lot of new material. There are so many untold stories from those years, so much wisdom in perspective, so many haters I still want to prove wrong...
Born purely out of stubborn resolve, blind faith and indomitable will--Phetasy has always been here for me when I’ve had no one and nothing. I've sacrificed more than I can comprehend to even get this far. It is and has always been my passion. Like her creator, like the universe, like life…she’s constantly evolving, morphing and ever expanding. Re-organizing my website is going to be an extraordinary task--sometimes tragic, always hilarious; but somewhere amongst all that clutter, forever chasing an unattainable horizon, is the very definition of the word “Phetasy” and quite possibly, the meaning behind all of this madness...
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