I shouldn't be writing this. I know I have a column due and all, but really, there are other things I should get to first. Like finishing my client's project that's due tomorrow. OK, let's get real - like starting my client's project that's due tomorrow. Or maybe I should do the dishes from Saturday night's ten person dinner party...seeing as it's Wednesday. I need a haircut. I have to schedule a meeting with my tax attorney. And I should probably throw out several of those fuzzy green lumps in the refrigerator before they evolve and decide to kill me in my sleep.
But I can't. I simply can't seem to pull myself away from my computer screen and that addictive, crazy Website called Intrepid Media.
As I write this, I'm wearing the same t-shirt from yesterday and I'm down to my last pair of boxer-briefs. (You're welcome for that mental picture.) But me breaking away to do laundry is about as likely as Martha Stewart mud wrestling the Pope. I'm waiting for the clock to strike midnight Eastern time so I can read the latest column from Jael McHenry. And it's not just Jael's 1000 wonderful words that I'm drawn to. Three times a week another great feature story pops up on my screen and gives me something new to talk about.
Staying up late to read a new column is never really a problem anyway. I'm usually busy doing the work I was supposed to do that morning but didn't because I fritted away the day on Intrepid. Most days I can be found on the message boards hitting refresh faster than Anna Nicole Smith goes through a box of Bon Bons. Every new post is like a Chris Rock concert - you never know what's coming next and your reaction to it can be anything from hysterical laughter to language that's unprintable in a family forum such as this.
Now go back and reread those last two paragraph. Go ahead. I'll go read a few of my new critiques while I wait. Notice how I started talking about laundry but ended up praising Intrepid Media? That's what my life has become - I start doing one thing, but end up on Intrepid. Assignments get pushed back. Errands go unfinished. I've got a pair of shoes that have needed to be repaired for the last three months. The shoe repair shop is four blocks away. But when the choice falls between getting a new rubber sole put on or discussing the plot flaws in Spiderman, it's no contest. And it's not like I don't have things to do. I work for myself, so there's always billing to finish, projects to work on, new business to drum up and clients to talk to. I'm also the manager of my apartment building. I don't think the tenant with the broken stove would be too happy to discover I've spent the last three days discussing plans for the Intrepid Media third anniversary celebration instead of taking five minutes to call the repair guy for her.
I've always been the kind of person who would rather be 20 minutes early than two minutes late. But since I became an Intrepidite, that's gone out the window. I get caught up in discussions I'd never have anywhere else - from the benefits of taking a date turtle shooting to a good recipe for chocolate beet cake. I'll be ready to head out for a meeting when something will be said that draws me back in to the conversation. Five more minutes can't hurt, right? (Answer: It can if I'm already 15 minutes late.) I've been blaming the bus system a lot recently. I'm not sure what I'll do now that my secret is out.
I wish I could point to one reason that Intrepid Media has done this to me. Some days it's a great column to read. Or I'm obsessively checking my critiques and number of reads. Other days there are epic battles on the message boards. (By the way: Erik, Adam, Joe and Mike, you're all a bunch of Steel Magnolia crying, eyebrow waxing, Capri pants wearing pseudo men who make Alan Alda look like Arnold Schwarzenegger.) Sorry, I digress. The thing with Intrepid is, it's always something different, and usually something that reminds me I'm not the only smart kid in class.
So now I'm hungry. It's 8:00 p.m. and I haven't eaten since about noon. Of course that doesn't mean I'm actually going to make dinner. That would require me to stop writing this, walk away from the browser window I have open to Intrepid, and actually make something. Although it's not like I have any food in the house anyway. I've been meaning to go grocery shopping since last Friday.
Matt would love to be George Plimpton...welll, except for the being dead part. He supplies the doing and the writing. All he asks of you is the reading.
ABOUT MATT MORIN
more about matt morin
IF YOU LIKED THIS COLUMN...
9.18.02 @ 12:07a
And you wonder why you can't meet a girl.
9.18.02 @ 1:01a
I'm glad I read this after I met you. I might have changed my mind about showing up at Joe's.
(...and I was wondering what that smell was...)
lee anne ramsey
9.18.02 @ 2:22a
Dear god! What the hell is happening to Matt? What have you people done to him?
(What is more pathetic: the fact that I am on Intrepid at 11:24pm the night before a shoot, or the fact that I'm making fun of Matt for being an Intrepid geek?)
On a serious note: you need to get out of the house, my love.
lee anne ramsey
9.18.02 @ 2:26a
Although, Northern California Boy, you might appreciate the fact that I am in Corning California (or right outside) at the Shilo Inn. Yes, there are many mac trucks passing by my window that faces I-5.
Hmm. Shall I eat at the Buckhorn Family Restaurant? Or the Iron Skillet? Or go the Arbys/Dennys/McDonalds/Burger King route? Perhaps I'll upscale to Applebees? Olive Garden? Chico's finest: Red Lobster. Someone shoot me now.
9.18.02 @ 2:30a
OK, before you all show up here for an intervention or something, this is an exaggeration. If I was really this much of a loser I'd change my name to Mike Julianelle.
9.18.02 @ 8:18a
And so begins another pigfight..
9.18.02 @ 9:23a
It's all exaggeration except for that part about my writing being wonderful, right?
9.18.02 @ 9:29a
Put your hands up and slowly step away from the keyboard!
9.18.02 @ 10:01a
Yeah. I don't like Matt, but at least I knew he was joking.
Oh, and, dear boy, if you consider 9 p.m. staying up late, you might want to start trying to pick up women at the local Retirement Castle.
9.18.02 @ 10:04a
I hear he has better luck in the ball pit at McDonalds.
9.18.02 @ 10:05a
Matt, what kind of lotion do you prefer when looking through the site? heh heh
9.18.02 @ 10:21a
Michael, as funny as that is, do you really want to know?
9.18.02 @ 12:06p
GeeeeeEEEZ this has suck-up written all over it.
9.18.02 @ 12:16p
In which case I'm glad it's not the urinal column.
9.18.02 @ 12:26p
The funny part was a few nights ago on the boards when Adam kept saying, "Goodnight, I'm going to bed," but would come back over and over to make one last comment. Finally he said something like, "It's 2:00am, but every time I'm just about to shut this computer down you guys say something that draws me back in."
I was thinking thank God I'm not the only one.
9.18.02 @ 12:40p
You mean like the way that I'm supposed to be working now?
9.18.02 @ 12:44p
Or like the way I'm not even out of bed yet...
9.18.02 @ 1:05p
Now that Intrepid Media is going so fabulously and has just celebrated it's third anniversary, it may be time to consider seeking some help.
"Hi. My name's Heather and I'm an Intrepidaholic."
9.18.02 @ 1:06p
Or the way my corporate card application has been sitting on my desk for three hours and my coworkers have asked me "what's with the picture of you and the other tall girl with the short guy?"
9.18.02 @ 3:44p
Does anyone else have a problem explaining to outsiders what the hell we do on IM all day?
9.18.02 @ 3:46p
Perhaps our readership would prefer not to be called "outsiders," Matt.
Oh, and yay. I'm the "short guy." Swell.
9.18.02 @ 3:50p
Well, our readership knows the site and how we spend our time. I was talking more about people who had never even heard of IM.
9.18.02 @ 4:31p
There are people who have never heard of I.M.?
9.18.02 @ 4:41p
9.18.02 @ 5:08p
I've already had two calls today from people I'm freelancing for that started out, "So get off Intrepid Media and do some work."
9.18.02 @ 5:49p
I bet he was typing lude comments on the boards at that very moment.
And not all readers know about the secret nirvana of the Intrepid Boards. It may be confusing that we spend HOURS here.
9.18.02 @ 7:50p
I'm so glad to hear I'm not the only geek that's always checking for new columns... by the way, I'm supposed to be in class right now....so then, yeah, I am a Intrepidaholic, or whatever. I'd like to hang out at the board, it could be fun...
9.18.02 @ 10:08p
I agree about the checking in for new columns. I know I check in a couple times a day when possible. And once I start reading the bords I'm good for a couple of hours.
Now, Daniel. Go to class, get your education, and come back to IM immediately after class.
Matt. There are just some images I didn't need painted for me. Smelly laundry and you in boxer-briefs were two of them. I'll send you the therapy bills. I'm off to the boards now.
9.19.02 @ 11:52a
I've had a hard time getting back into the "what? I'm not still playing and actually have to work?" mode since my return. The lure of photographic evidence of this weekend and the drunken Glee Club has been too strong.
But today, I actually have to get some work done.
9.19.02 @ 12:19p
Keep telling yourself that Tracey. Keep telling yourself that.
9.20.02 @ 10:33a
Matt, your woman, Sunny, is getting adopted. She told me to tell you to focus on the good times, and not get all mired down. She wants you to be happy... and to fall in love again.
9.20.02 @ 10:34a
See, I told you I MIGHT start reading your columns! I'm not going to make a habit of it, though.
9.20.02 @ 10:39a
Yay, Sunny! Good dog!
(Other people will not understand this. Sunny really is a dog. Referring to her as a "woman" was a "joke.")
9.20.02 @ 11:05a
Tell Sunny I will always love her. And anytime she wants to get back together, I'll rub her stomach.