I think it’s kind of funny that I got as much as I did out of keeping a very public journal of my very private experiences back between 2004-2006. Journaling is an age old hobby, so it’s not so funny that I found it rewarding to write about myself. What’s funny is that I wanted to do it in a form where anyone who wanted to could check out each little snapshot of realization as it developed inside of me. It’s a sort of exhibitionistic self-help practice, of which I wouldn’t have had the luxury just a few years prior. And back before they laid all those cables which offered instant electric connection between our personal storage machines I did keep private journals. I remember reading a very early review of a performance of mine at the Yoyo A Gogo Festival in Olympia, WA where some guy had written that seeing my show was like listening to a thirteen year old read aloud from her diary. It was clear that he didn’t attach to his comment any of the positive connotations that spring to my mind when I imagine an thirteen year old’s diary. Maybe the teenage effect was what I was unconsciously going for. I was no doubt just letting it all hang out.*

The thing is that I am an extrovert. I often become aware of what I am thinking while hearing myself speak. I feel pretty lucky that the deveolpment of the internet has unfolded by degrees, which happen to have perfectly complemented how much exposure I may have been ready for in a given epoch. I find it relieving that it wasn’t technically possible for me to expose the musings of my twenty year old self to an audience as broad as the internet now affords. Baring myself to whomever happened to stroll through Olympia was revealing enough.

The technical capabilities of the internet have matched up in perfect sync with my budding desires for connection and exposure up until about two weeks ago, or whenever it was that they invented Chatroulette. Here the technology has revved its engines and driven right past me into a future, in which I have no interest and probably will never come to understand. It’s like how I look at my parents and forever see them as being 1988 (which I think is maybe when they first started to be happy and have a little bit of extra cash.**). To be perfectly honest about myself, I guess I don’t really live in 2010. I will more accurately be forever stuck in 2007, since I’ve never gotten on board with facebook, and in recent years I have stumbled across some things on the internet, like this Major Lazer video, which have been more than I am really able to handle.


I have spent the past year just catching up to where the internet was back in 2007, and getting a grip on the concept of following links, which I guess is the whole underlying premise of this technology. I’ve been getting steady while I stand up on the virtual surfboard. Back in ’04 I carved out a very cozy spot for myself with my introverted extroversion. For a while I got everything that I needed from the simple feedback loop created by publishing my thoughts and then reading the comments in response. I really needed those comments; I was leaning outward, and reflective messages from the outer world absolutely helped hold to me up in my vulnerable posture. I’m in less need of buttressing these days, and I have advanced to a stage where I am even adventuresome enough follow the links on the commenters’ names, and investigate the roads that radiate outward from my little comment window. On good days these external connections give me the same sort of inspiration and belief in a supportive universe that the comments have. So, a great big thank you to my friend Carl Williamson for making this website work again, for helping me to open my window a little wider. He also showed me how to use Google reader, but I think I’m still more comfortable going directly to his website whenever I want to look at his cool curation of photos, or watch a video of him at age 15 morphing into a cat. If Carl is the face of the internet right now, that is good with me.



*The school motto of The Evergreen State College where I got my BA is literally, “Let it all hang out.” However, they have the decorum to use the latin translation: “Omnia Extares.”
**I wish that when I looked at my parents I would be able to see 1971, back when they had a sailboat, no kids, and some really outrageous parties, if the photographs and their stories can be believed. But I don’t. The continued happiness of 1988 is as good as it gets for them in my mind. Anyways I think my mom likes the future better than the past. I’d trade all of it in a hot second to be able to go back and party in the 70’s, but only if I were allowed to bring my girlfriend.

March 1, 2010

  1. Carl Williamson

    Aww. Thanks Khaela. Can you post those amazing photos of that sailboat party? My parents were also running around on a sailboat in the early 70s, I have a feeling it was a real good time. I wonder if they anchored in the same harbor? x C

  2. Joe Maricich

    Khaela, yes! We really did have wild parties where people slept over, threw up and smoked sweet smelling stuff.

    We had the most fun on the sailboat when we kept it in Anacortes and sailed around the San Juan Islands with our Anacortes Yacht Club friends who were more interested in partying than in dressing up formal and being all “shipshape”.

    You could have brought your girl friend because my best friends were a gay couple.
    Unfortunately, the first time I took you on the sailboat, you cried because it was rocking back and forth, so I had to sell it.

    I’m sorry that we’re stuck in 1988, but it was a pretty good year. 😀

  3. wyatt

    i’m from olympia, so i guess what i feel is pride that we were in some respects like a cradle for your work and beautiful music. nyc is the city of dreams, but hope u don’t make oly and ptown blow refugees. music i think has always amplified inner thoughts, then when you put it on the world internet, it’s almost like an explosion.

  4. Roger William LeBlanc Jr.

    Dear The Blow,
    My name is Roger LeBlanc. I am 17 years old and I live in Littleton, Massachusetts. Unfortunately, my comment has very little to do with your post. I did recently start a journal though, and I have found it helpful as well. I have been feeling quite reflective recently, as my ten year boy scout career is coming to its culmination.A few weeks ago I achieved the rank of Eagle Scout and my scout leaders told me to notify public figures I respect. Most boys send letters to politicians, but I have chosen to write a message to you, because you are a public figure I respect. Your music has a very human quality to it that really speaks to me. It seems so honest with its emotions but the lyrics manage to be so dreamy and fantastical at the same time. My commitment and loyalty to the cause of the Boy Scouts of America has wavered back and forth over the years, but I have come to the conclusion that it was a worthy experience because of the friendships and memories I made. It amazes me that I have this crazy bond with my boy scout pals, knowing that we’ve been camping and working together for 7 years now. Music helps me remember things most of the time. I remember singing “Pardon Me” with my buddies on our skiing trip to Vermont. I remember using “Watch the Water Roll Up” for a presentation for the communications merit badge, and I remember playing “Little Sally Walker” with the young tenderfoots during troop meetings. So I guess what I am trying to say is that your music has been an important part of my life, and Boy Scouts has been an important part of my life, so I think now they should mix into this beautiful conglomerate of a memory. If you could take the time to write a small note back to me, it would be read at my Eagle Scout ceremony in December, and I would appreciate more than you know. (You can email me at XXXXXXXXXXX) If you can’t send me a message back, I understand and won’t have any hard feelings. It was healthy and worthwhile for me just to write this letter.
    Thank you for your time,
    Roger William LeBlanc Jr.

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