I’ve been getting emails all morning from folks wanting to know how Unplugged Night went, so here you go! This project is an invaluable exercise for me. Last night’s timing couldn’t have been worse, really: I spent most of the day yesterday at work counting down to launching a big project I’ve been working on for weeks, and at a certain point I realized it wasn’t going to happen before 5:30 … ie, the time I was getting home and unplugging. My last half-hour of connectivity was filled with this sense of crazed desperation — OMG! BUT HOW! I CAN’T! THIS IS INSANE!

But I took a deep breath and reminded myself that it could all wait. Launching at 9am Thursday vs. 7pm Wednesday was not going to make a drop of difference to anyone except for me. It was a self-set deadline with absolutely nothing relying on it. It’s funny how much I convince myself of the INCREDIBLE URGENCY of the most ridiculous things.


That hump overcome, I got home and started getting myself ready for the evening. Like any junkie itching for a fix, I had a couple rough moments. I went digging in our hallway closet and found a bunch of crap between me and my box of craft supplies. I mean sure: It was irritating. But not nearly as irritating as I was thinking it was. Why must these boxes be in my way? WHY CAN’T I JUST GO READ SOME RSS FEEDS?!

Deep breath. Tidying of kitchen. Deciding to get take-out. Walking. Laughing at huge-eared chihuahua pressing its nose against the window of a delivery truck. Home. Eating.

Dear Megan...Then I dove into my first project: writing a letter to my dear friend Megan. When I announced the 52 Nights Unplugged project, Megan sent me the sweetest email reminding me of how the first five years of our friendship (’93-’98) we kept in touch mostly by handwritten letter, and specifically requesting that we try to get back to that.

I’ve actually been getting more into letter writing recently. I’ve always been a fan of thank you cards, but in the last couple months I’ve been sending more letters to friends and family as an extra special way of communicating. Plus, I like drawing and don’t have nearly enough excuses to do it.

Mid-letter writing, my friend Ben showed up. I’d sent a Twitter message out to my friends saying “Who’s in for Unplugged Night!?” which Ben took quite literally to mean “Who’s coming to my house and being unplugged with me?” It was a happy surprise to see him at the door, and so he came up and we visited a bit … having several moments of referencing things online, reaching for the laptop on the couch, and then saying “oops. no.”

Then we both sat down at the table and worked on letters and drawings. It was a great way to spend time with a friend.

Andreas got home from circus class around 9, and then it was time for tea and chatting. There was a certain point when I got a little pang of “What is it that I know is waiting for me? What’s that feeling of looking forward to something?” and realized it was my brain addictively spinning over the emails that I knew were sitting in my inbox. LITTLE PRESENTS! WAITING!

52 Night Unplugged: Cribbage!Ben headed home, and Andreas and I sat down for a rousing game of Cribbage. I learned how to play when he and I started dating, and I’m ashamed at how little I’ve improved in the 10 years since. That said, I managed to luck out and get a whole run of good hands, and ultimately kicked Dre’s butt winning the game and only gloating a little bit.

Then we were tired and went to bed.

So. That was the first Unplugged Night. It was relatively painless and gave me a lot of insight into how I run my life and the stories I tell myself about how URGENT and CRUCIAL my online communications are. Note to friends & family: you are not allowed to remind me of this. Only I am allowed to make jokes about my mother, and only I am allowed to critique my online tics.