Damn. Damn. I am so psyched.

I really am. I’m having one of those moments where everything is in flow. I’ve always been a wanna-be tech geek, and lately, thanks to the buoying of wonderful tech friends, I’m daring more, trying more, instead of letting fear of change, the warm womb-like comfort of the status quo take over.

1) Like, I’m loving Twitter. I really am. (Follow me at http://twitter.com/mandystadt). Did you know I wrote one of the first articles on Twitter? It’s true. Although, I need to Lexis this claim. And I want to look back at the article. It was in 2006, right after SXSW, an assignment, and mostly make-fun-of-y, but also very fun to do and intro-ed me to Biz Stone, who’s a pretty inspiring guy in his own right. One of the founders of Blogger, etc.

2) Right now I’m listening to Lady Gaga Radio on Pandora. I don’t even really like Lady Gaga. You know what it is? It’s pure silliness and a dash of nostalgia, too. It reminds me of some of the dancey-dancey ridiculous songs of the ’80s I grew up with when I would spend all day jumping in the pool with my sister, playing Mac2E games, calling into Q106 to try to win prizes and just being blissful and free. Is it possible to reconnect with the energy of your youth? That’s what I feel in spades lately. I wasn’t even a super happy kid. I was so nervous, tense, anxious, fearful of what others were thinking, that I was doing things wrong, thinking people didn’t like me, taking EVERYTHING personally. But there was also this daring. This wanting to push myself and try.

It’s why I’ve always been attracted to things that scare the hell out of me in life. I was severely shy as a kid. But I would think of these funny things to say in class, and I would raise my hand, and my heart would beat in my chest, and I’d just hope that I wouldn’t “step on the punch” as they say in comedy, and kill the joke with my trembling voice. Those were my triumphs growing up. Every funny joke I made in my high school class, it was a victory. And so I pursued journalism. I had to interview people. And comedy. I had to make people laugh. Or why I got married young to a very strong personality. Who when things were bad made me feel like nothing I did was right. I had to realize: Actually. Everything I did was right. But I was the only person who could tell myself that.

You know what I tell people? The guideline I tell others, when I see that they are struggling with some of these questions — or there is shyness borne of fear that you’ll be That Jagoff Who Makes You Cringe, I say, “If you’ve ever even wondered/worried about being the jackass who tells the story too loudly, is the ham who doesn’t realize what a d-bag he is, then you are fine. You are covered. You will never be that d-bag.” If you’ve got even an ounce of self-awareness (and good friends who will give it to you straight), then you are not going to suddenly become a megalomaniac twaddle. And you can probably benefit from building up your own sense of self and confidence to believe in yourself and what you want to do. So much of our lives are spent interacting with other’s spheres of energy. Everyone wants something from you. And so often it’s people who are miserable in their own lives and feed on that, want to bring you down with them. It might be someone who puts you down, says you suck, rejects you — and that’s fine. Because what it comes down to is this: You are the energy you bring to every situation. If you are joy, then you are joy. Period. If you are gratitude, then you are gratitude. Period. If you are strength, oh then how. You are strength.

If you are conscious of others and how it is simply their own attitude/perspective/anger/rage/hatred/disappointment/awesomeness/coolness/radness/fun/party-girl-spirit/bad-boy-posture/narcissism/need-to-be-coddled stance/saboteur/sadism/masochism/energy-sucking/time-sucking/depression/crazy-making/angst/anxiety/or fear and NOT yours and that is has nothing to do with you, it does not infect you, then you are strength, baby. You are strength.

It’s the excitement of living. It’s the excitement of pulling back that kind of blissful life energy that you had as a kid. I was always so full of excitement growing up, anxious to keep TRYING, to keep getting to that next place, to learn more, to burn and flicker and go for it. I remember a specific marker that I would have my freshman year of college, staring in the mirror, and if my cheeks burned crimson, I knew that I was flying. I knew that I was experiencing something that I would never experience again. It almost brings tears to my eyes, remembering some of that joy from youth. Because growing up, it can be snatched. Or you can let it be snatched. And lately, I can feel that crimson returning, burning ever brighter. It’s always been there, but I feel it very strongly. I recognize that any of the love that I felt growing up, any of the urgency, the desire to try more, to see what’s next, to find what this person can tell me, it’s there, and it’s stronger than it’s ever been.

I’m so busy right now. God, I’m so tired sometimes. I’m so overwhelmed sometimes, and it’s so easy just to get lost in a triage of exhaustion and bitterness and contempt and hands being thrown up. I tell people so often, I’m just getting through each day, each week. Because that’s New York. And that’s working in the spheres of entertainment and media. That’s the excitement and that’s the passion and that’s the jolt and joy of it, but on the flip side, if you let it — you can end up completely drained. Lately, I’m trying to nourish my spirit very lovingly so that I can see that crimson just continue to bloom and grow. I really love that. I love the idea of reconnecting with some of that passion of my youth. When I left home as a child at the age of 9 to get surgery, for the very slight pectus excavatum it’s called, where you have a slightly concave chest, and it’s fixed, it’s operated so that you don’t have the pressure against your chest (and I still have the scar from the surgery underneath my breasts, and here’s a marker of where I’m at, it was always the first thing I said to any man: “I have a scar, warning. Do not destroy me, I have a scar, please, I know, I know,” and now, I don’t even mention it, I just am, I feel confidence, I feel ease, I feel comfortable in my own skin, I feel love, I feel beauty), and my sister and the neighborhood kids they made me a card when I was in the hospital or a banner or both, and it said, “Mandy, you always make up the best games. We miss you. Get better soon.” Because I did. I made up the best games. And I still do.

3) I used Skype to talk to a friend from college this weekend who I hadn’t spoken to face-to-face in years. On Twitter, he is @shinjikuyawama, and he’s a Ruby on Rails SEO specialist developer (Google both those terms if you don’t know, because they are hot, baby, they are) and he is so pro, and yet so kind and just so great. And we were talking on the phone, and then the phone died, and he said, “You said you just downloaded Skype?” And I said, yes, give me a minute, and I quickly changed out of the boobalicious lingerie I was wearing, and slapped on some makeup because I couldn’t handle seeing my face in the little pixellated screen sans creamy semi-matte perfection and glistening glow (my one makeup tip which works, it does: use your lipstick on your cheeks and your eyes for an all over poppy brightness), and then there we were, talking to one another on Skype. It was like getting coffee. It was like being in the same room. It was an entirely different experience. And he said, “The thing I’ve noticed is that it’s so much more intimate.” And it was. It was intimate. I told him about everything I’ve telling you here, and experimenting with life in general, and being excited about life in general, about not letting fear stop me anymore, and about the joy in getting to crimson.