Hello, my Name is AnneHello, my name is Anne and I'm a friend of Bill G. (Gates). I'm an iternet-aholic.
I was on the wagon for a while. So much so I didn't write as often as I should have. I went through a Wikipedia phase while caring for my mom. That lead to a silent movie phase, with selections still on my library request list.
Facebook has become my undoing. Innocent enough, I was delighted to reconnect with old friends and family. Finding a year's worth of photos on my digital camera, I embraced this new found medium for self indulgent expression. Stepping out of the dark of ages past, a new world has dawned without me.
Write, post, write, post, write, post. Fancy email. With graphix.
One of my dearest, bestest friends from the old neighborhood posted a picture of herself and her granddaughter. What could be cuter or more wholesome? With a post about pulling a bank heist. Yeah, she says this picture with the kid is good cover. My best friend is a gun toting, Grandma Gang Moll with the Mafia. Mafia Wars that is.
What the h*** I ask my kids...The keyboard dances like the sound of a tommy gun's report. I find myself in the Family, along with my kids, old high school chums, friends from writer's conferences. Not only does my daughter recruit me into a virtual life of crime, but now I'm a blood sucking Vampire with some of the same people in my Mafia.
I'm farming, gardening, gallivanting through Sherwood Forest and sending Breyer horses, barn supplies, Flair and every conceivable consumer product. This is a pack rats dream come true, or a recovering collector's nightmare. Unlimited shopping and giving. I need a twelve step program.
Last week my computer was painfully slow. I used visiting my mom as an excuse to use her computer. Achingly slow as well. My mom is a news hound and the noon news reports that hackers have broken into Twitter and Facebook causing major interruptions. No wonder my blood bank is hemorrhaging, my casinos and tenements were vandalized. I'd rally my Mafia goons to break a few knee caps. If my game had been working.
I returned to my life. I opened a New Word Document and wrote.
These weren't hackers. This was an intervention. I had been saved.
Oh, yes, I still play. I was never one for games, this is a novel and stimulating affair with copious amounts of arithmetic. Numbers are my bane, but I feverishly scribble away, nixing the calculator for the brain .
Shopping and gift giving has nearly stopped. All the presents were cluttering the pages, making the true writing connections difficult to navigate.
I have found new horse friends, new as well as 'neglected' writing friends. Discovering these new communities is what I had not achieved in earlier internet formats. My creativity and appreciation have downloaded an updated version. I've deleted the cookies and consume fresh fruit instead.
Steps Three and Four perhaps.
How much energy have my avatars accumulated? Was I gifted the tools I need to achieve the next level? Easy numbers on a screen.
I'm blogging again, Roland and Eloise emerge from hibernation, distant music sounds as I turn up the speakers. The revival of spirit and renewed health I am enjoying has been gained with a refresh tab.