This thing I have to do

I’m trying to track my social interaction in real time, using screenshots and text messages, mostly.

The more I go ahead

I started by sending a text message to both sides of my family. The same message but separately to my mother’s side first and then to my father’s side. Uncle Dick just replied. (5:25 pm, East Coast USA. If I was supercool, I’d publish the longitude and latitude, but that would require learning how to do it.) He’s actually fourth… c o u n t i n g …fifth.  The order I saw them in (from memory): Ed, Jane, Raedyn, Dick, u h oh. That’s only four.  We’ll have to inspect the record to determine the assigned timestamps and see who I’ve forgotten. If anyone. Because in the meantime I was also emailing some friends, and intermittently playing with The Katz. (Implication: more people appeared in my consciousness than there is a record for via screenshots on the iPhone4.0, yes, shame, a previous model.)

The more I see back

What seems more urgent is negotiating consent with my relatives: may I use the screenshots I’ve been taking of our communication? Like, actually publish them here?

I think I’ve asked them in the past. Way way back. Dim memory or wishful thinking, I’m not sure.  Will they forgive me for mentioning them here? What about the evidence in {the photo I just deleted}. At the same time, I’m playing #KRKTR in my heartmind/actions. Which some of you may have heard me talk about in some vague way that didn’t make sense. Or not.

Going to a potluck, hoping to get an assent from a cousin before  leaving so I can publish this with some evidence. Just texted fyi I’ll be late.

Been working this prolly about an hour.

. . .

Tacking

Am told I can arrive whenever. Good. Will leave soon, unless the wind changes again. No further reply from cousin. Yet.

_____

Amherst, MA
Postface:
(…it felt funny when I thought it.) ~ pasted in at 17:19 by the M’cAir’s clock. That was approximately when I resumed writing this blogentry after the title and first sentence. It is a quote from whatever I was working on (i.e., had interjected itself into my stream-of-consciousness) some time (minutes? seconds) after I had been diverted from this blogentry by a thought/memory/impulse to send email correspondence [to an unspecified set]. Chose to leave it {the quote: “it felt funny when I thought it”) to appear here at the bottom of the entry.  17:20 (copy-pasted in; edited at 18:21 before publishing)