Notes from a day offline

Thursday, October 30, 2009

[These start without a timestamp -- I started keeping track of that later]

I left home this morning without my cell phone – possibly an effect of the stress this is causing, since I never forget that. Keys, maybe. Wallet – yesterday. Cell phone, never.

I didn’t realize forgetting the cell was a good move until I went back and picked it up, and suddenly the internet is everywhere I am.

I’m realizing it’s a reflex. My finger wants to click on the blue e, and it’s without thinking.  [I have internet explorer on windows mobile, hence the blue e]

I’m doing a lot of thinking. I walk, and I can't read CNN. So I think. A lot of that thinking is about all of the things I’ll be doing online tomorrow:

At 10:37 I caved and went online for about 5 minutes – truly not more than that. I had to download a few things and reply to professional email. It’s not about compromising my career at this point. One day offline wouldn’t make a difference to me. But it would hurt other people’s days.

Sister, on the phone: I really don’t think you should do this.
Me: Why?
Sister: It’s ridiculous!

So at 1137 I’m going stir crazy.

11:44 I just want to check check check.

11:46 this suck sucks sucks

11:47 fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

12:23 I just got off the phone with AY, which I’d been looking forward to for a few days. Now I’m feeling the fizz, the pffft, of deflation. That is over. That was quick. Too quick! I barely got a chance to catch up with her. But it was also great to hear her voice, after how many months? Now what. What else do I have to look forward to today?

12:25  I've been awake for 5 and a half hours and already the day seems very long to me. Yet I realize I have another 12 hours to go.

12:26 I wonder if I should tweet these tomorrow in 24-delayed real time, or just lump them together into a blog post.

12:43 I just bumped into JoR, who asked me if I’m actually doing this. I said yes, but confessed I went online for five minutes to send a work-related email. She nodded supportively. She said she saw my tweets yesterday and was curious if I’d make it. That kicked off a nice chat about a twitter widget she recently discovered, which I might like. Not only might I like it, I’m sure I would. That was a very satisfying talk. As satisfying as it is for someone on a carrot juice purge to talk about the new Magnolia bakery opening outside her apartment or someone in AA to hear about about the sale on jose cuervo at Happy-Go-Liquor. No, that’s not an actual liquor store, but shouldn’t it be?

12:54 I want to check

12:55 Am I really about to play minesweeper?

1:04 that was oddly thrilling.

1:17 I replied to an email. I just feel that if someone emails me and I don’t reply, that’s like not waving back or not smiling back when someone greets you. It’s just rude.

1:18 I think I need to revise that stance. I’ve been online 3 times today, for a total of 7 minutes. It’s way less than 9 hours, and I’m cutting out a lot of the time wasting activities that normally make up my day, opting for the far more efficient alternative called minesweeper. But I still caved not once, but three times. If I’m going to really quit the internet for a long, long time, I’ll need to be prepared to appear rude or callous.

1:20: next time around I will set up an auto reply: "I am away from my email this year. Please call or text if it’s urgent. Otherwise, I’ll receive your message next year."

1:24 I think I need a diversion. Something to help me forget.

1:51 there’s no way I could quit cold turkey. Every single atom in my body is counting down to midnight. If actually quit for the long haul, I don’t think I’d make it for more than 18 hours. I think I should start by staying offline one day per week, then adding weekends to that.

[From that point onward, the entries stop. Because --  wait for it, wait for it, waaaaait for it -- I calm down, I start working, and I eventually get drunk. See the previous entry for the conclusion.]

What I discovered after spending 24 hours offline

I thought I would rush back here to report what my 24 hours offline were like.
 
I thought being offline 24 hours would steer me away from this plan.

But I did not. And it did not

Instead, sharpened or dulled by a few days of perspective, here's what I have concluded after my test run of life offline.

1. Before anything, I guess I should start with a disclosure: I was forced to check professional email three times. If not, it would have messed up other people's days. I got a call in the morning from an editor asking if I'd gotten her email. She doesn't know about my plan-- nor do any of my work related contacts. (Not yet, at least.) And I didn't want to ruin her work flow or burn that bridge. So for a total of 10 minutes, spread across the day, I read and replied to her emails.

2. That's the only contact I had with the online world.

3. This experience was harder than I thought. I figured I could just pull the plug and succeed. Arrogant fool!

4. I've decided, based on my reactions throughout the day, that I can't quit cold turkey. I need to ease out of it. Delight at the thought of being able to log back in soon is what stopped me from giving up immediately. So I need to accustom myself to not being so delighted. And that will be a gradual process.

5. By about 6 p.m. I couldn't believe how much more time I had left to be offline and how slowly the day had gone by.

6. To make it go faster, I enlisted the help of a friend and the excellent margaritas of Ponce's. By the end of the night I forgot what time it was, what we talked about at the beginning of the night -- but not that I was supposed to be offline.

7. After that great evening I resolved that if I overcome internet addiction I should at least become an alcoholic.

8. Earlier, I called 411 twice, once to get the number of an editor I work with and then for Travelocity. I hadn't called 411 in at least three years, and I'm very happy that service still exists.

9. The hardest point in the day came when I wanted to book a plane ticket. I had decided to attend a journalism conference in New Haven and stick around the East Coast for a few days. I called Travelocity just to get an idea about the prices, and the guy told me there was a good fare with one seat left at $300. I almost almost caved and looked online to make sure that was the best deal. Instead, I ended up RESISTING and CONTROLLING THE URGE and I bought the ticket blind.

Later, when I looked up fares online, I saw the cheapest tix would have been $50 less.

I also had to pay the damn $25 telephone booking fee.

So if that's not dedication, I don't know what is.

10. Oh wait, that would be stupidity.

11. Because quitting the internet when it helps you save time and money is stupid.

12. But if what you gain offsets those losses, quitting the internet is not that stupid.

13. My day offline was oddly relaxing, come to think of it. I could see myself really relishing in the freedom, over time. After the jitters and the withdrawal, I suspect I would coast. Let my mind wander and start achieving something pretty decent things.

14. The high point was at about 4 p.m., when I stopped obsessing over being offline and I started writing, really writing, without interruptions or distractions, for a few good hours. I rarely get that sort of momentum, and it's my own fault.

15. In fact, I observed the most interesting effect the day after. All the automatic behaviors -- checking email frequently, going on NYT.com every few hours -- seemed ridiculous, superfluous. And I realized that the internet is just like the trail of ants that was running around in my kitchen all summer: mesmerizing, infuriating, persistent until the day it's gone, and then you don't have to think about it unless you want to.

Next post: my journal from that day. Complete with time stamps. And expletives.

What have I done?

Now that I have decreed I'm going offline tomorrow, I am petrified.

What have I done??

In the last five minutes I've issued five pathetic tweets:
Now my heart is beating faster, because it's sinking in. I won't be able to do this tomorrow. Or this or this or this or this or this or this or this or this or this or this or thisorthisorthisorthisorthisorthisorthis!!


Ok. Here's the plan. I will make a list of things I can look forward to tomorrow. And I will print it out and read it every time I'm getting antsy.

1. phone call with AY, friend from college and grad school who lives in London now, which we've planned for a few days
2. work
3. work
4. work
5. progress
6. no distractions
7. work work work
8. progress progress progress
9. i will sit in a beautiful cafe and stare at my surroundings, not the screen before me
10. i will call 3 people I haven't spoken to in more than a month
11. i will write one letter, run one errand or do one chore to make the rest of the week easier
12. i will treat myself to a movie, theme park or anything else that panders an escapist fantasy
13. i will keep notes about what it's like to be offline for no good reason, and publish them here, friday

And that's that.

First moment of reckoning

A few weeks ago I installed TimeTracker to find out how many hours I spend online. Now is the moment of reckoning. Since October 6, I have used the internet:

102 hours on my netbook
57 hours on my desktop
About 15 hours on AR's laptop. A guesstimate, since I didn't install the tracking program there.

174 hours in 22 days = 7.9 hours per day.

Now let's add in the cell phone data usage. I use about 160mb per month, according to my last three bills.  Per AT&T, these are the data loads for my online activities:

Typical Web page look-up: 150KB
Check the weather forecast on weather.com: 25-75KB (I'll go with 25, since it's just a rare glance -- I live in Southern California, remember?)
Check AOL email and read three messages: 60KB (I don't have AOL, but close enough)
Update Facebook status: 25-50KB (I'll go with 25, since I rarely do this on the phone)
Visit CNN.com and access the headlines in the "Health" section: 20-40 KB (I'll average that out to 30, since I'm on news sites a lot, but I tend to read articles the whole way rather than reloading constantly)

Trouble is, I'm not sure how much time that translates into. Does anyone know multivariable calculus? Let's just say I'm on my smart phone -- using data, that is -- a total of one hour per day. That's for quick email checks when I'm stuck in traffic, reading the news during rush hour, looking up statistics about accidents in rush hour caused by cell phone usage, and, occasionally, doing everything else I do online when I'm not stuck in traffic.

I secretly fear one hour is a conservative estimate, but no internet-quitting project would be complete without a dash of self-delusion, would it?

So, total time online as of October 28, 2009:

8.9 hours per day.

Is that bad?

Does that smell like an addict to you?

Does it make you want to wrap me up in a straitjacket and write "HOPELESS' on my forehead? Because if it does, I would like to meet you. We have a similar sense of humor and I think we'd hit it off.

But really, crude jokes aside, I think it's a perfectly reasonable amount of time. Don't you?

You know what else I think? It's time to go offline, for one day.

Just to see what happens.

Tomorrow. No internet, no cell phone data. From midnight to midnight.

If you don't hear from me Friday, send a medical examiner.

Aiming for day 365

One thing I've been contemplating is how to quit, and how to stay offline. But those thoughts have never pushed far beyond the first few months, because that distant future is too nebulous -- and my commitment, I fear, too tenuous -- to draw my focus.

Then, I saw this story in yesterday's NYT : Battling Addiction With Those Who Know It Best

It's about how Philadelphia is helping its drug and alcohol addicts to stay clean by providing chronic care and (seems like an obvious strategy to me, but apparently it's quite an innovation) connecting them with people who have successfully battled addiction.

“Hundreds of people are speaking out about being in recovery, and that’s having a tremendous impact on people who may not think they’re ready to change,” Arthur C. Evans, Philadelphia's chief of behavioral health, tells The New York Times. Erik Eckholm, the reporter, continues:

Mr. Garrett [a man who has struggled with addiction for years] proudly said that he had been drug-free for eight months now, attending 12-step meetings, therapy sessions and other activities daily.
“This time around, people with the same histories as me are talking to me, telling my story,” he said. “That never happened before.”
He even went camping with a sober group and is making plans to attend its Halloween party. “That’s the fun part of this process,” he said.
Still, a few weeks ago, Mr. Garrett said, he was contemplating suicide. “When that happened, I used to go straight into drugs without telling anybody,” he said. This time, he called on a recently trained peer specialist at Comhar named William Baker [another addict]. Read the whole story here.

Which gets me thinking. I'm quitting for a year. Other people decide to quit for their entire lives. One year is not that bad. I can do this. (I hope.)

Second, rather than just concretely planning how to quit, and merely wondering how I'll survive offline, I should also concretely plan to survive offline. Find people who don't use the internet a lot. Find people who used to be addicts and created meaning in different avenues. Connect with them. Like we used to, in person. Build a support network. And do whatever else it takes to ensure I'm prepared to get to Day 365, not Day 1.

On that note, I introduce Marcus Murphy, my first guest blogger.

When and how?!??!

This is what people are saying when they hear this plan I've hatched: To quit the internet for a year and live to tell the tale.

Given that my friends were originally skeptical, I guess these decisive questions are encouraging. A tad flattering, even. Now that I seem serious -- writing 41 blog posts on a subject naturally makes any pursuit legitimate -- people are taking me more seriously.

Or should I be a little concerned... about the eagerness with which my friends seem to want me to get down to business. Do their eyes really need to light up as they ask

"Wow!!! WHEN!! HOW??"

People, I'm going offline, not giving out tickets to the 7th annual San Antonio Prayathon. So calm down.

Anyway, the answer is... I'm not sure yet.

This is why I started documenting Project Quitnet before actually quitting: to figure out all those details and let you, dear reader, in on the process. What I know, so far: I'll sign off as soon as I can feasibly do so. That's probably around January or February, since I have a few projects where I really need internet access. One is my dissertation, which I cannot write quickly without the internet. I keep in touch with profs and use online journals and google books, etc. Second is the question of employment. I'm a freelance writer, which means that I'd have to either convince my editors to make a few changes or find a way to do this so there's zero inconvenience for them. And don't get me started on tracking down sources and doing research... The preparation alone (getting people's numbers, letting people know, downloading or printing resources) will take a few months.

But I will let you know as soon as I have a date fixed.

As for the how... How to quit, how to post dispatches from offlineland, how to vouchsafe the integrity of the project, how to make sure I stick with the program but also don't pull all my hair out from desperation...

I'm trying to figure all that out. I have have a few ideas, and the support of a few people who offered to help me communicate from my cocoon.

Any ideas are welcomed.

[image one via CcureIT, image two via Great Green Wedding]

Calling Guest Writers: ACT NOW

Ever thought about cutting back on your time ONLINE?
Or think this plan of mine is DUMBEST thing you've ever heard?

Then contribute a GUEST POST!!

For only $99.99, YOU can be the featured

PROJECT QUITNET GUEST BLOGGER  

Be read by a vast network of influential policy makers!*
Help change the lives of the millions of people struggling with internet affliction!*
Drive traffic to your site thanks to the thousands of backlinks that connect every hour!*

Normally, this special offer would cost $99.99, but for a limited time only, this unbelievable package can be YOURS for the introductory price of FREE!!!

That's right.

You write a guest post.

I post it here.

And you pay NOTHING.

So act now. Spots are going fast.

(* based on project traffic figures for April 2021.)

_____________________________

Seriously: If you want to write a guest post, I'd love to include more voices here. It can be about your internet habits, digital life, thoughts about slow movements and simplicity, personal experiences with addiction or recovery, or whatever else strikes your fancy. So lemme know. Yah?

The Lives of Others (Part 2)

Here are 12 more ways my quitting the internet for a year would affect other people:

For items 1 to 13, click here.

14) If people still actually wanted to interact with someone who went offline, they'd have to be willing to wait a lot longer for conversations to evolve. No more instant answers, no more quick email pinging back and forth. They'd have to be patient for us to set up a coffee chat, or find a time to talk on the phone, or exchange paper letters.

15) Amazon's quarterly earnings and San Diego's GUP (gross urban product??) would dwindle by a factor of 8 once I stop buying stuff there and on Craigslist. Needless to say, many dreams would be shattered.

16) Other establishments would reap financial benefits, as I wouldn't be entitled to internet rates, 24-hour airfare sales, online discounts, coupon codes, freebies and the like. Mostly just airline companies, but a few others, too.

17) People sending me e-cards would have to do so on paper if they still wanted to wish me a happy new year. On the flipside, I might be one less obligation to fulfill -- people could say, "She's offline, loser, forget about her," and write me off. And the feel extra guilty when they received my touching handwritten notes.

18) People on Facebook and Twitter the world over would surely miss my pithy and insightful status updates.

19) As they would my modesty.

20) And my hackneyed jokes.

21) On the other hand, a vast network of acquaintances I keep in touch with virtually -- relationships where there's really not that much meat there, but they're kept alive by the convenient combo of inertia + internet -- would have the perfect opportunity to cut the cord. (As would I.) Other relationships, fed by phone calls, thoughtful letters and more live visits, would be strengthened.

22) New people I meet and want to keep in touch with would have to agree to call or write a letter (or receive a phone call or letter) to establish initial contact. That would be strange, frankly. Perhaps it would attract wierdos, or members of the Silent Generation, or just fantastically open minded people.

23) A cherished and trustworthy person would probably need to end up agreeing to be my email sorter. Check in once per week or so, eventually once per month, just in case something critical comes in. And perhaps even answer, on my behalf, the really important messages. That would require a loss of time and energy for him. (An alternative just occurred to me: I'd get a virtual assistant. We could communicate via telephone. But is that even possible?)

24) That same person, and in fact many other people around me, would have to tolerate my incessant buzzing about what just happened online, what the latest news is, any new blog comments, what I missed, resulting in a sacrifice of other conversation subjects. Not to mention peace of mind.

25) Anyone getting my letters or picking up the phone when I call would have to be prepared to withstand sentences like "I can't take this anymore!! Please let me connect!! No, that whole vow thing was a joke! Wait, stop me before I do something I'll regret. Actually, give me just 10 minutes online. No, don't listen to her!" or, more to the point, "I can has a internet access. Puhleeez!! Meow!" Consequently they may have to decide whether or not psychiatric evaluation is called for, and/or restraints. A responsibility they may or may not want to assume.

Thus: to quit the internet would be ridiculously selfish.

Next question: is there any way to work around that, mitigate the burden on others? And, back to Question Number One, is quitting even worth that effort???

The Lives of Others

I've been thinking about the ways my quitting the internet for a year would affect other people. Here's a rough list.


1) My adviser and thesis committee would have to agree to read printouts of drafts and send back the drafts marked up, rather than email comments.

2) Any coordination or touching base about the dissertation or studies, like when the next chapter is coming, career plans, rec letters, advice, whether or not I succeeded in finding a certain source, etc, would have to happen... on the phone, probably?

3) My family and friends would not be able to communicate with me conveniently about their lives. If someone wanted to tell me about her boy troubles or send me a picture of his new baby, it would all have to be on the phone or snail mail.

4) My friends would not be able to invite me easily to do stuff. A lot of fun random stuff emerges through email. I'd be out of that loop, which means that if they actually wanted to include me (as opposed to just remembering to group me with people because I was in their address book) they'd have to make the extra effort to call.

5) My family -- especially my dad -- would be deprived of the pleasure of sending me forwards. Not that I read them, but at this point we can both pretend.

6) If any editors actually agree to work with me despite this impediment, they'd have to: call to give me story assignments or listen my pitches; print out edited versions of the stories and let me pick them up or transfer them on a zip drive; be willing to input small changes over the phone; and be willing to accept all stories and edited versions on a portable storage device.

7) Various people who reach out to me for help -- let's say a young alum from my college who has a question, or someone who wants me to connect her with someone I know -- all that would have to be on the phone. (Or snail mail, but less probable.)

8) All the online accounts I have would have to be switched to paper, which means companies would pay more to contact me.

9) My mom, who usually emails me during the day time so she doesn't use up my cell phone minutes, would have to stop emailing me. But she would not feel comfortable calling, even if I tell her I have enough minutes, since she'd think I'm just saying I do so she'll call.

10) People who need or want to involve me in various semi-complicated coordinations -- say a small group going to the mountains for a long weekend, or being part of someone's wedding, or giving someone ideas about her new nonprofit, would all have to happen on the phone or snail mail.

11) Peripheral but still important professional contacts would have to get in touch on the phone, I guess. Which would meet less quick and easy interactions, which would mean less sources and story ideas.

12) Sources who I'm trying to meet for articles would have to agree to only communicate via email. Anyone trying to give me a press release, etc, would have to fax it.

13) People who are in San Diego would have it easier. People who live far away would have a harder time reaching me.

That's it for now. More later, I'm sure. I am heading to dinner. One thing the internet can't do for me. Thank God!

[image via oregon live]

FYI

I have more drafts and post ideas than I have actual published posts -- a first in my history as a blogger.

Just wanted to say.

 

Yeehaw!!!!

[Image via detroit.momslike.com]

Introducing quitterette

After a heated debate with this blog's most devoted reader, I've decided to convert my twitter name to:

@quitterette

With a fan like that, who really knows me better than I know myself, it's hard not to listen to her enlightened counsel.

So go ahead and click on the catchy name above. I promise to return the favor and follow you -- until I log off, that is!

Introducing bingeclicker

I've joined Twitter!

I am @bingeclicker.

My first tweet:

Thinking about the irony of joining twitter as I contemplate quitting the internet for a year.

As for my handle, I was toying with a few ideas: onemoreclick, twitterquitter, internetquitter, quitterette, quitterina, clickster. But those were taken, or gave off the wrong allure. Still, I'm sort of torn between bingeclicker and quitterette -- which has the added plus of sound like "cigarette." Any votes, oh absent (Wait! I forgot I have one reader at this point. Moi!) reader?

[image via pixdaus]

The Quiz

This is the internet addiction quiz I discovered, from an article I discussed in the previous post.

I picked "Surfing the Net" because it's generic enough to include all the subcategories that apply: Cell Phone Use, Television, Social Networking and Blogging. But, this seeing this list is a relief. With no addictions to shopping, gaming, porn, forums, gambling or even auctioning, I think I will be in the clear. Next:

I'm not upping the dosage and I don't see any deeply negative repercussions to my internet usage. There's an opportunity cost, of course, but I'm still showering regularly and fitting into my jeans.

 

Not sure what they mean by "content." As in, finding yourself reading about John and Kate plus 8 when you actually think watching Tom Delay's final performance on DWTS is a better way of wasting your time? Maybe it's just code for porn.

 

I wonder if other people disagree, however.

That's it.

7 yesses, 7 nos. Nice and balanced. Sane.

Now for the results. I just clicked on "next" and...

Intervention may be merited, huh? Here's an idea, ReSTART quiz. How about you go intervene yourself. I have some internet quitting to do.

Baseline

If I'm actually going to do this, or even seriously think about doing it, I guess I need to start with an exploratory study. How much time I spend online, and doing what. I can give you a rough answer to both: I am online every minute that I'm not offline. Usually, looking at google books, gmail, my university webmail, anything related to my research as a grad student or reporter, facebook, cnn, slate, salon, time, newsweek, arts and letters daily, blogger, sometimes the new yorker, gawker, hulu, fancast, casttv, occasionally linked in, administrative sites like SDGE.com or itasoftware, a mix of magazines or blogs that might have cool stories, and then whatever other sites catch my fancy the day. Oh, and craigslist. How could I forget craigslist.

But to get a more precise picture of my net habits and decide if I really am withering away in front of my computer, last night I installed TimeTracker, a Firefox add-on that does what its name says. I'm also going to save my browsing history and take stock in a week.

After installing the add-on, at first I wasn't sure what changed. The browser looked the same, there were no icons to click on or settings to adjust. And then I spotted it: a timer at the bottom right of my screen. An insidious little number that keeps getting bigger, making me feel self-aware and even a little scared that I really am spending too much time online.

To make this work, to get a totally accurate and honest snapshot of my habits, I have to forget about the timer.

Fortunately, I am what Romanians call "nesimtita" (neh-seem-TSEE-tah). This is a term of endearment Romanian parents use for their adolescent children, and in special cases the grown ones. The finer points get lost in translation, but here's the gist: "I spent 16 hours in labor for this? Refund, please!!!!!!" More specifically, it's used to describe people who are oblivious or indifferent in an uncharming way. For example, is someone who tries to swoowsh a used kleenex into the trashcan and misses, and then leaves the bacterial wad right there in plain view and walks away nonchalantly. Or someone who sets a glass of  icy water with condensation on the bottom onto a nice wooden table, thereby marking the table with a ring, and does so neither accidentally nor on purpose, but because she can't be bothered to care. Sorry, mom.  (But "nesimtita" is not when you wave your hands in the air like you just don't care. That's okay. Just so you know.)

But being a "nesimtita" has its pluses. Besides incurring parental wrath, it also means things don't get to you. Guilt doesn't eat you to pieces. Worries slide off you like Dali clocks.

Because of this rare quality, I'm already barely noticing the timer, and I think that in a day or two, I'll have totally forgotten about it.

Today, I see that I've been online 4:57:46. Compared to other days, that's actually on the short side. There are two reasons. First, I spent most of the day at Peets writing my dissertation. I checked email and Facebook, and glanced at a few news sites every once in a while, but that was it. No browsing, just glancing. What can I say? The dissertation has me riveted.

The second reason is that my day was also on the short side.

I woke up at 2.

[by tingeliM]

"It's a great time to go offline." Discuss.

Pro:

Going offline is like having a baby. There's never a "good time." But when it happens, you embrace it, sing it to sleep, let it rock your world, and put too many pictures of it on Facebook. Minus the Facebook.

In fact, if I were to give up the internet, this is probably one of the best times to do so. We're in a recession, I don't have a job, and no one is actually depending on my electronic correspondence. I do have a short term writing gig I took on as I wrap up the dissertation, but once that's over, I could pull the plug.

I live close to family and friends, so I wouldn't be lonely. It's not like I'm spending a year abroad and depending on Skype video chats for sustenance.

I have unlimited text messages and a great cell phone plan.

I'm young. I'm spry. I don't have any mouths to feed. I have savings and I got a great deal on my lease. If there's any time in my life when I can take a breather, focus on the roses, travel, read, write, think, it's now. Either that, or retirement.

I have eyes to read with, feet to dance on, dogs to pet, letters to write, windows to insulate. Who needs the internet?

Besides, if I don't have a decent job for one year and scrap together an existence with savings and odd jobs, what's the problem? The market won't correct itself for at least that long, and then I'll have better chances of getting something great, instead of settling.

If I don't do this now, for the rest of my life I will be tethered to my netbook. Time to take charge. Take back my life. Take a virtual valium.

Con:

Disconnecting when I'm unemployed and a recent grad is reckless. Not to mention that there are certain important moments in my life, like graduation, which are looming, and which would benefit from internet planning and coordination. Hotel rooms. Invitations. Airfare research.

Most importantly, searching for a job with no internet access means I'd probably only be able to work for... myself? Since I'm the only person who would hire someone that... "interesting." Only then I wouldn't be able to afford my own services.

I would miss the critical post-graduation window and lose momentum.

My savings are for important goals like retirement, healthcare disasters and quality coffee, not income for a strange anti-technology experiment.

Leases expire, rents go up.

And rewriting my life to fit to this arbitrary constraint of "no internet" is at least as unhealthy, selfish and irrational as feeding a totally manageable internet addiction.

Ambivalence:

Meh.

Forget it

I've been trying to work out some of the details in my head.

Like, ground rules. Could I read print outs of web sites? Could I download sites and view them offline? Could someone read me my email? All messages? Only the message subjects and senders? Buy a machine to read them out loud? And carry it with me everywhere in a specially designed pouched commissioned on Etsy?

Is this more about breaking with technology or breaking with a way of life? If I actually do this, would it be despicable if I did it half way? I mean, give up the internet but tune in, in other ways?

And practical matters, like: I'm a reporter. How will I source articles and schedule interviews without the internet? I got my first newspaper job in 1997, when we still used phone books. But today it would be so strange to pick up the phone and look for sources that way. Much more inefficient. Not to mention odd. "Hello, Mr. Brin. I'm calling to confirm our interview, tomorrow at 10. Did I get your email? I'm sorry but I'm actually not checking. I've given that up. Yes, I know you revolutionized the way people interact in cyberspace. I do love technology! What? Are you sure? Please reconsider! Ok, I'll let my editor know. Thanks anyway for your time."

There's my dissertation. I live in California, my committee is New England. We've been sending chapters and comments back and forth. What, would I now have to print out my writing and mail it? Also, how would I find journal articles and library books? The internet has probably cut in half the time it took me to write this dissertation.

Then are the things that I'll really need it for. I don't just mean checking out the latest handbags at Barney's I can't afford, but also stuff like looking at exotic destinations I can't afford to travel to and reading about homes I can't afford to live in. Crucial things.

And how much will this cost me? Naturally, I'd need subscriptions to: the NYT, the LAT, the WSJ, the Union-Tribune, and about 20 magazines. Plus the extra ink, pens, paper, postage. And the cell phone bill.

Will I really be unemployed and spend my savings on magazines? That is not the life I envisioned after 8 years in grad school. Maybe teaching. Definitely writing. Maybe starring in a reality TV show about internet addiction. But not this.

So what would I do if I weren't online so much? For one, I'd probably have to start yoga classes or see a therapist, because I know I would be jittery. I would probably spend a lot more time writing, and then blogging about that, then comparing myself to a famous Luddite who lived 60 years ago in France and did a much better job at it. I would play more tennis, see my grandmother a lot more often and not check my email in front of her every half an hour, talk on the phone with friends more, volunteer to teach web literacy -- I mean, card catalogue skills -- in a local library. According to the statistics, I would probably have more sex. Not a bad tradeoff. No NYT.com in exchange for mind numbing nookie. Only for that to be true, does that mean both partners have to quit the internet? Or would I be having sex with myself? Also not what I had in mind...

Thoughts churning. Way too many obstacles for this to make sense.

But.

Yes, I'm still thinking about it.

A terrible idea

I've spent the past two hours online, googling.

"a year without internet"
"the year without internet"
"quitting internet"
"quitting internet for a year"
"blog about giving up the internet"

And so on. So far, nothing. Either no one has done this, or if they have, they haven't blogged about it. And by "doing this," I don't mean simply quitting the internet. I'm sure tons of people have done that. Shifted priorities from a technoladen existence to a lithe, supple and wifi-free way of life. From Mormons on their missions to the Peruvian Amazon to people who hike the Himalayas to raise funds for breast cancer to "29-year old" mothers of four on detox retreats at Canyon Ranch, brave and selfless individuals the world over have sacrificed internet access for greater goals.

By "doing this," I mean the totally self-absorbed and enchanting idea of undertaking a meaningless project for a year. Simply because you've never done it before, it's never been done before, you fancy yourself a blogger, and you think Oprah really will pay attention, this time. (By the way, feel free to check out my old blog. And if you're joining me from there, thanks a ton for sticking around!)

The truth is that such an endeavor wouldn't be just for kicks. Or even publicity. Believe me. (Actually, you probably shouldn't. The last time someone believed me, they ended up at my house, plastered and listening to Ave Maria. Don't ask.) But I do spend a lot of time online. I often wonder what I else could be doing. I used to write -- poetry, short fiction. I used to take dance lessons, play sports. Currently I am sitting in front of screen, reading and writing about sitting in front of a screen. And I'm not even an existentialist Italian playwright.

What I've found out about internet addictions, in my google quest:

"46 percent of women and 30 percent of men would opt to forgo sex for two weeks rather than give up access to their precious Internet for the same period." (From this NYT report about a study put out by Intel.)

Lots of people resolve to "quit the internet" on New Year's Day. Few succeed.

For 1800 surveyed Hong Kong teenagers, life without internet not worth living. (See this story)

Even American homeless people are hooked, according to this WSJ article.

What else I've found out:

The idea of a year without internet terrifies me. And maybe that's exactly why I need to do it.

How it all began

A few hours ago, I was in my kitchen, making coq au vin.

It was the perfect recipe for the chicken and extra dry wine that I had accumulated during a wine tasting my boyfriend and I hosted at our house this weekend.

I had just finished sauteeing the pearl onions when I put the chicken pieces into the still oily pan and gently browned them. Then I moved the chicken to a plate, sprinkled salt and pepper on it. And updated my Facebook status.

"Roxana Popescu is seasoning."

I felt obliged to add:

"Roxana Popescu (yes I have the laptop in the kitchen with me... how else will I feed the internet IV drip?)"

Which generated a flurry of conversation:

EL: There are support groups for that... I guess....

4 hours ago · Delete

Roxana Popescu: do you speak from experience?

4 hours ago · Delete

EL: Yes, I hate admit it, but yes.

4 hours ago · Delete

Roxana Popescu: Well, addictions are so much more fun when left untreated, aren't they!

3 hours ago · Delete

EL: How true, Roxana. What was I thinking?

3 hours ago · Delete

NLJ: I dare you to try 365 days w/o the internet! Double dare! Except I'd hate to find you foaming at the mouth and shivering on the bathroom floor

3 hours ago · Delete

Roxana Popescu: I adore the idea, but my first thought was -- that would make a great blog! I am such a lost cause...

2 hours ago · Delete

NLJ: That's what your typewriter is for, then you could have Andrei post it online for you (which you would be unable to see, of course). I bet he would love the creative control.

2 hours ago · Delete

Roxana Popescu: That is most tempting. But what would I DO with myself those extra 16 hours a day???

2 hours ago · Delete

NLJ: You could type out what you are gonna put online the following year. I think it would be cool.

about an hour ago · Delete

Write a comment...

So the idea was born.

I owe it all to NLJ. And EL. And that chicken.