Existential Depression in Gifted Individuals
James T. Webb, Ph.D.
Supporting Emotional Needs of Gifted
It has been my experience that gifted and talented persons are more likely to experience a type of depression referred to as existential depression. Although an episode of existential depression may be precipitated in anyone by a major loss or the threat of a loss which highlights the transient nature of life, persons of higher intellectual ability are more prone to experience existential depression spontaneously. Sometimes this existential depression is tied into the positive disintegration experience referred to by Dabrowski (1996).
Existential depression is a depression that arises when an individual confronts certain basic issues of existence. Yalom (1980) describes four such issues (or "ultimate concerns")--death, freedom, isolation and meaninglessness. Death is an inevitable occurrence. Freedom, in an existential sense, refers to the absence of external structure. That is, humans do not enter a world which is inherently structured. We must give the world a structure which we ourselves create. Isolation recognizes that no matter how close we become to another person, a gap always remains, and we are nonetheless alone. Meaninglessness stems from the first three. If we must die, if we construct our own world, and if each of us is ultimately alone, then what meaning does life have?
Why should such existential concerns occur disproportionately among gifted persons? Partially, it is because substantial thought and reflection must occur to even consider such notions, rather than simply focusing on superficial day-to-day aspects of life. Other more specific characteristics of gifted children are important predisposers as well.
Because gifted children are able to consider the possibilities of how things might be, they tend to be idealists. However, they are simultaneously able to see that the world is falling short of how it might be. Because they are intense, gifted children feel keenly the disappointment and frustration which occurs when ideals are not reached. Similarly, these youngsters quickly spot the inconsistencies, arbitrariness and absurdities in society and in the behaviors of those around them. Traditions are questioned or challenged. For example, why do we put such tight sex-role or age-role restrictions on people? Why do people engage in hypocritical behaviors in which they say one thing and then do another? Why do people say things they really do not mean at all? Why are so many people so unthinking and uncaring in their dealings with others? How much difference in the world can one person's life make?
When gifted children try to share these concerns with others, they are usually met with reactions ranging from puzzlement to hostility. They discover that others, particularly of their age, clearly do not share these concerns, but instead are focused on more concrete issues and on fitting in with others' expectations. Often by even first grade, these youngsters, particularly the more highly gifted ones, feel isolated from their peers and perhaps from their families as they find that others are not prepared to discuss such weighty concerns.
When their intensity is combined with multi-potentiality, these youngsters become particularly frustrated with the existential limitations of space and time. There simply aren't enough hours in the day to develop all of the talents that many of these children have. Making choices among the possibilities is indeed arbitrary; there is no "ultimately right" choice. Even choosing a vocation can be difficult if one is trying to make a career decision between essentially equal passion, talents and potential in violin, neurology, theoretical mathematics and international relations.
The reaction of gifted youngsters (again with intensity) to these frustrations is often one of anger. But they quickly discover that their anger is futile, for it is really directed at "fate" or at other matters which they are not able to control. Anger that is powerless evolves quickly into depression.
In such depression, gifted children typically try to find some sense of meaning, some anchor point which they can grasp to pull themselves out of the mire of "unfairness." Often, though, the more they try to pull themselves out, the more they become acutely aware that their life is finite and brief, that they are alone and are only one very small organism in a quite large world, and that there is a frightening freedom regarding how one chooses to live one's life. It is at this point that they question life's meaning and ask, "Is this all there is to life? Is there not ultimate meaning? Does life only have meaning if I give it meaning? I am a small, insignificant organism who is alone in an absurd, arbitrary and capricious world where my life can have little impact, and then I die. Is this all there is?"
Such concerns are not too surprising in thoughtful adults who are going through mid-life crises. However, it is a matter of great concern when these existential questions are foremost in the mind of a twelve or fifteen year old. Such existential depressions deserve careful attention, since they can be precursors to suicide.
How can we help our bright youngsters cope with these questions? We cannot do much about the finiteness of our existence. However, we can help youngsters learn to feel that they are understood and not so alone and that there are ways to manage their freedom and their sense of isolation.
The isolation is helped to a degree by simply communicating to the youngster that someone else understands the issues that he/she is grappling with. Even though your experience is not exactly the same as mine, I feel far less alone if I know that you have had experiences that are reasonably similar. This is why relationships are so extremely important in the long-term adjustment of gifted children (Webb, Meckstroth and Tolan, 1982).
A particular way of breaking through the sense of isolation is through touch. In the same way that infants need to be held and touched, so do persons who are experiencing existential aloneness. Touch seems to be a fundamental and instinctual aspect of existence, as evidenced by mother-infant bonding or "failure to thrive" syndrome. Often, I have "prescribed" daily hugs for a youngster suffering existential depression and have advised parents of reluctant teenagers to say, "I know that you may not want a hug, but I need a hug." A hug, a touch on the arm, playful jostling, or even a "high five" can be very important to such a youngster, because it establishes at least some physical connection.
The issues and choices involved in managing one's freedom are more intellectual, as opposed to the reassuring aspects of touch as a sensory solution to an emotional crisis. Gifted children who feel overwhelmed by the myriad choices of an unstructured world can find a great deal of comfort in studying and exploring alternate ways in which other people have structured their lives. Through reading about people who have chosen specific paths to greatness and fulfillment, these youngsters can begin to use bibliotherapy as a method of understanding that choices are merely forks in the road of life, each of which can lead them to their own sense of fulfillment and accomplishment (Halsted, 1994). We all need to build our own personal philosophy of beliefs and values which will form meaningful frameworks for our lives.
It is such existential issues that lead many of our gifted individuals to bury themselves so intensively in "causes" (whether these causes are academics, political or social causes, or cults). Unfortunately, these existential issues can also prompt periods of depression, often mixed with desperate, thrashing attempts to "belong." Helping these individuals to recognize the basic existential issues may help, but only if done in a kind and accepting way. In addition, these youngsters will need to understand that existential issues are not ones that can be dealt with only once, but rather ones that will need frequent revisiting and reconsideration.
In essence, then, we can help many persons with existential depressions if we can get them to realize that they are not so alone and if we can encourage them to adopt the message of hope written by the African-American poet, Langston Hughes:
Dreams
Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams.
For if dreams go,
Life is a barren field
Covered with snow.
- Langston Hughes
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
A bubble bursts
There have been frustrations. Unexpected. Unexplicable. All unwanted. The Documentary That Should has stepped off the yellow brick road into territory that- sorry- is NOT Kansas anymore. It's been filmed already and the package is done, but somehow something (which I cannot- for fear of legal action from the production company- discuss) blocks its journey to the big screen.
The worst part is that the documentary was not made for anybody's personal profit. It was made to raise awareness of an issue which is deliberately being ignored by the press and by our governments. Awareness cannot be raised if people do not see the film. People do not see the film if the film never sees the light of day.
I expected as much from Hollywood. Shit- we waded through politics KNEE DEEP in school for short films that no real filmmaker would ever watch. And this was IN SCHOOL.
But I never expected the politics when it came to a film that mattered. I mean, really mattered. It's not about getting rich anymore. It's about stopping these children (some as young as 3) from being raped by so many men at once that they can't sit down for the rest of their natural lives. Or from being hurt so bad and having no one to turn to for help because their parents have died of HIV/AIDs.
It should no longer be about profit then, and start being about realising our own humanity. Realising that something is wrong and needs to be stopped.
Even in Hollywood, I had hoped for that.
An article in The Times reflects some of what me and my boss have had to deal with in the last few weeks. It's a shame that the author refrained from putting their name, but considering the town I understand. You don't give your number to the devil.
Here's the article:
Ostensibly, I produce movies for a living. The most recent movie I had a hand in producing won the Academy Award for Best Picture. Pretty heady stuff, to be sure. The reality, though, is slightly less fulfilling. We shot that film two years ago and, since then, I’ve produced nothing. Zilch. Not a frame of film, a byte of sound, a kernel of popcorn.
How, you may ask, does one survive in the film business without actually making any movies? Or, more relevantly, what the hell have I been doing for the past two years? Good question. Here’s the answer, which is really a guide for those of you looking either to become a producer or waste your time completely. The two are often indistinguishable.
This is how it starts: I read hundreds of scripts, articles and books, watch countless films for remake possibilities, listen to tons of ideas – and most of them are crap. It’s like a beauty pageant where everyone has either a monobrow or two noses. When you are reading a script, only one thing truly matters, which I learnt from my old boss Harvey Weinstein: is it a movie? Not is it a good idea, or is it well written, or is there some big star attached. Is it a movie?
Two years ago, I read a script from a first-time screenwriter with several novels under his belt that left me giddy. The characters were real, the structure was sound and the story was captivating. That’s not to say it didn’t have some issues; no script comes out perfectly formed. It would be the genetic equivalent of a baby emerging with Brad Pitt’s face. But it was pretty close.
It was about a patrolman on the border between California and Mexico. He had done time in Iraq and was now serving his country in a different way. The reality of his life, though, was grim and fairly hopeless. No matter how many illegal activities he and his cohorts stop, countless criminals slip through the cracks. It’s a numbers game, and the odds favour the bad guys.
So here you have a good man in an increasingly desperate situation. He’s trying to keep his wife and young daughter intact, provide for them, but he knows he’ll never get to where he needs to be. Faced with this bleak reality, he is approached by some Mexican criminals with an offer: let a particular vehicle pass through and he’ll be paid handsomely. It’s a victimless crime – no drugs or terrorists, merely high-priced foreign call girls who can’t easily enter a post9/11 America.
He decides to look the other way and take the money, which enables him to support his family for a year. Unfortunately, he’s asked soon afterwards to let another car through, then another and another. The Mexicans have him, and they dictate the rules of the game, including threatening his family if he doesn’t continue to comply.
It read like a classic thriller with characters you really cared for, plus the added bonus of being extremely topical. Stories about border corruption were splashed across the covers of every newspaper, and the writer had clearly done his research. I thought to myself, yes, Harvey, it’s a movie!
I bought it. The movie had all the earmarks of a critical and commercial success, with a great role fora leadingman. Already feeling a fat producer’s fee burning a hole in my pocket, I called my travel agent and asked her to look into renting a villa for two weeks in St Barts in the West Indies.
Then it all went wrong. I sent the script out to several agents, who had many of their top director clients read it. I found myself fielding calls from many of my heroes, film-makers I’d dreamt of working with, along with several exciting up-and-comers. I finally decided on someone in the middle: he’d just directed a very well received film whose lead actor was nominated for an Academy Award. Actors would line up to work with him, I was assured, and every studio was dying to make his next film.
The first thing he did was get the writer to rewrite the script, tipping it slightly into more “character drama” territory. Not satisfied, he then rewrote it himself, shoving it completely out of “commercial thriller” territory. I called my travel agent, asking if a week in a hotel in Miami wasn’t a more practical idea.
Six months had passed. We sent the new draft out to all the top actors, and the responses felt like what models must hear every day – too dark, too small, too thin. One well-known actor, possibly the most humourless man I’ve ever met – which, in my business, is saying a lot – loved the script but was “looking to branch out into comedy”. I wasn’t quite sure which branch, and I certainly didn’t want to find out.
The director got a very well respected actor to read it, and the actor loved it, with one caveat: he wanted a rewrite done, with his input. They huddled together for weeks and emerged with a script that was basically a 90-minute monologue about a guy who works at the border. At least, I think he worked at the border.
Burying my concerns, I sent the “package” out to all the major studios. The silence was deafening. One by one, various executives read it and, one by one, they passed. There was a nibble here and there, but it was usually by someone in the mail-room with – sadly – no authority to greenlight a $30 million movie. (But they obviously had immaculate taste.)
After months of waiting and pleading, I found a studio that was willing to finance it – for roughly the budget of a documentary short.
A year had passed since I bought the script.
It was time to regroup. After much Sturm und Drang – mostly on my part – the director and I parted ways. I decided on a different approach. I went back to the original script and tried, once again, to court a big-name actor. Surely someone would see in it what I first did.
Miraculously, it worked. After several months of near-meetings and almost-conver-sations, I finally sat down with a recent Oscar winner who was perfect for the part. He loved it, he said, one of the best scripts he’d ever read. I sat and listened, waiting for the other shoe to drop – he’d want the character to be deaf, he’d want the story to take place in Kazakhstan, he’d want a competent producer. But all I got was a yes, he was in, and let’s go get ourselves a director.
Now I had a movie star. The directors started calling again, and I even heard from one I’d originally passed on because he wanted to add chase scenes and explosions – just stick ‘em in anywhere, he’d said, that’s what audiences really wanted nowadays. Now we had a 30-minute conversation where he pretended to forget his earlier thoughts and proclaimed the script was “perfect as it is”.
This was shaping up to be quite a movie, and the star promised me this would be his next film, even mentioning it on a talk show while promoting another movie.
Two weeks in St. Bart’s: $15,000.
There was a buzz around town, which always happens when a star commits to a project, and I returned to the ring for the easy part – going back to the studios with my shiny, new, glorious package. Only I quickly discovered that the package wasn’t so glorious after all.
The star was (and, in fact, still is) African-American. His wife would be as well, and the “other woman” in the movie would be played by a Latino actress. For some reason everyone was calling my movie an “urban film” (code for a movie for black people).
The part had been written for a white guy, but this was a fantastic actor, and people of all colours and ethnicities work on the border. Even so, my casting choice would prove to be a huge problem; apparently, there are many countries in the world where movies starring African-Americans other than Will Smith need not apply.
Nobody in town would finance the movie, because it had literally no appeal overseas. My weak protests – wouldn’t people go if it were actually a good movie? – were met with laughter. What does a “good movie” have to do with anything?
It had now been a year and a half since I last stepped foot on a set.
People in the industry were beginning to wonder – what was I working on? Calls were going unreturned. I developed the unmistakable stench of desperation. My wife started leaving the mortgage payment notices (and her shopping receipts) on my bedside table.
A producer friend once told me: “You’re either making a movie or you’re not. Everything else is just talk.” (He hasn’t worked in five years, but that’s another story.)
I clearly wasn’t making a movie. What I was doing was bleeding money. I had rung up a profoundly large credit card bill (wooing the various talents), ludicrously high legal fees (negotiating everyone’s deals) and astounding costs for therapy and medication (very poor health care system in America). This was in addition to actually buying the script, paying for rewrites and flying people back and forth for meetings.
Stuck in Purgatory, I’m currently faced with several decisions. Find a new actor? Hire a different director? Wait for the studio regimes to change and pray that someone responds to my script? Fire my travel agent? Get a good divorce lawyer?
It’s now been two years since I last produced a movie, and the script sits prominently on my desk, taunting me daily. Help me, it pleads, get me to the screen where I belong. Heed the signs, people tell me, this one just wasn’t meant to be. And still I carry on, for some unknown reason. Passion? Stubbornness? Desire? Stupidity? Who knows – it’s probably a combination of all of the above, but mainly the latter.
For these are the tools of my trade. I’m a producer.
The worst part is that the documentary was not made for anybody's personal profit. It was made to raise awareness of an issue which is deliberately being ignored by the press and by our governments. Awareness cannot be raised if people do not see the film. People do not see the film if the film never sees the light of day.
I expected as much from Hollywood. Shit- we waded through politics KNEE DEEP in school for short films that no real filmmaker would ever watch. And this was IN SCHOOL.
But I never expected the politics when it came to a film that mattered. I mean, really mattered. It's not about getting rich anymore. It's about stopping these children (some as young as 3) from being raped by so many men at once that they can't sit down for the rest of their natural lives. Or from being hurt so bad and having no one to turn to for help because their parents have died of HIV/AIDs.
It should no longer be about profit then, and start being about realising our own humanity. Realising that something is wrong and needs to be stopped.
Even in Hollywood, I had hoped for that.
An article in The Times reflects some of what me and my boss have had to deal with in the last few weeks. It's a shame that the author refrained from putting their name, but considering the town I understand. You don't give your number to the devil.
Here's the article:
Ostensibly, I produce movies for a living. The most recent movie I had a hand in producing won the Academy Award for Best Picture. Pretty heady stuff, to be sure. The reality, though, is slightly less fulfilling. We shot that film two years ago and, since then, I’ve produced nothing. Zilch. Not a frame of film, a byte of sound, a kernel of popcorn.
How, you may ask, does one survive in the film business without actually making any movies? Or, more relevantly, what the hell have I been doing for the past two years? Good question. Here’s the answer, which is really a guide for those of you looking either to become a producer or waste your time completely. The two are often indistinguishable.
This is how it starts: I read hundreds of scripts, articles and books, watch countless films for remake possibilities, listen to tons of ideas – and most of them are crap. It’s like a beauty pageant where everyone has either a monobrow or two noses. When you are reading a script, only one thing truly matters, which I learnt from my old boss Harvey Weinstein: is it a movie? Not is it a good idea, or is it well written, or is there some big star attached. Is it a movie?
Two years ago, I read a script from a first-time screenwriter with several novels under his belt that left me giddy. The characters were real, the structure was sound and the story was captivating. That’s not to say it didn’t have some issues; no script comes out perfectly formed. It would be the genetic equivalent of a baby emerging with Brad Pitt’s face. But it was pretty close.
It was about a patrolman on the border between California and Mexico. He had done time in Iraq and was now serving his country in a different way. The reality of his life, though, was grim and fairly hopeless. No matter how many illegal activities he and his cohorts stop, countless criminals slip through the cracks. It’s a numbers game, and the odds favour the bad guys.
So here you have a good man in an increasingly desperate situation. He’s trying to keep his wife and young daughter intact, provide for them, but he knows he’ll never get to where he needs to be. Faced with this bleak reality, he is approached by some Mexican criminals with an offer: let a particular vehicle pass through and he’ll be paid handsomely. It’s a victimless crime – no drugs or terrorists, merely high-priced foreign call girls who can’t easily enter a post9/11 America.
He decides to look the other way and take the money, which enables him to support his family for a year. Unfortunately, he’s asked soon afterwards to let another car through, then another and another. The Mexicans have him, and they dictate the rules of the game, including threatening his family if he doesn’t continue to comply.
It read like a classic thriller with characters you really cared for, plus the added bonus of being extremely topical. Stories about border corruption were splashed across the covers of every newspaper, and the writer had clearly done his research. I thought to myself, yes, Harvey, it’s a movie!
I bought it. The movie had all the earmarks of a critical and commercial success, with a great role fora leadingman. Already feeling a fat producer’s fee burning a hole in my pocket, I called my travel agent and asked her to look into renting a villa for two weeks in St Barts in the West Indies.
Then it all went wrong. I sent the script out to several agents, who had many of their top director clients read it. I found myself fielding calls from many of my heroes, film-makers I’d dreamt of working with, along with several exciting up-and-comers. I finally decided on someone in the middle: he’d just directed a very well received film whose lead actor was nominated for an Academy Award. Actors would line up to work with him, I was assured, and every studio was dying to make his next film.
The first thing he did was get the writer to rewrite the script, tipping it slightly into more “character drama” territory. Not satisfied, he then rewrote it himself, shoving it completely out of “commercial thriller” territory. I called my travel agent, asking if a week in a hotel in Miami wasn’t a more practical idea.
Six months had passed. We sent the new draft out to all the top actors, and the responses felt like what models must hear every day – too dark, too small, too thin. One well-known actor, possibly the most humourless man I’ve ever met – which, in my business, is saying a lot – loved the script but was “looking to branch out into comedy”. I wasn’t quite sure which branch, and I certainly didn’t want to find out.
The director got a very well respected actor to read it, and the actor loved it, with one caveat: he wanted a rewrite done, with his input. They huddled together for weeks and emerged with a script that was basically a 90-minute monologue about a guy who works at the border. At least, I think he worked at the border.
Burying my concerns, I sent the “package” out to all the major studios. The silence was deafening. One by one, various executives read it and, one by one, they passed. There was a nibble here and there, but it was usually by someone in the mail-room with – sadly – no authority to greenlight a $30 million movie. (But they obviously had immaculate taste.)
After months of waiting and pleading, I found a studio that was willing to finance it – for roughly the budget of a documentary short.
A year had passed since I bought the script.
It was time to regroup. After much Sturm und Drang – mostly on my part – the director and I parted ways. I decided on a different approach. I went back to the original script and tried, once again, to court a big-name actor. Surely someone would see in it what I first did.
Miraculously, it worked. After several months of near-meetings and almost-conver-sations, I finally sat down with a recent Oscar winner who was perfect for the part. He loved it, he said, one of the best scripts he’d ever read. I sat and listened, waiting for the other shoe to drop – he’d want the character to be deaf, he’d want the story to take place in Kazakhstan, he’d want a competent producer. But all I got was a yes, he was in, and let’s go get ourselves a director.
Now I had a movie star. The directors started calling again, and I even heard from one I’d originally passed on because he wanted to add chase scenes and explosions – just stick ‘em in anywhere, he’d said, that’s what audiences really wanted nowadays. Now we had a 30-minute conversation where he pretended to forget his earlier thoughts and proclaimed the script was “perfect as it is”.
This was shaping up to be quite a movie, and the star promised me this would be his next film, even mentioning it on a talk show while promoting another movie.
Two weeks in St. Bart’s: $15,000.
There was a buzz around town, which always happens when a star commits to a project, and I returned to the ring for the easy part – going back to the studios with my shiny, new, glorious package. Only I quickly discovered that the package wasn’t so glorious after all.
The star was (and, in fact, still is) African-American. His wife would be as well, and the “other woman” in the movie would be played by a Latino actress. For some reason everyone was calling my movie an “urban film” (code for a movie for black people).
The part had been written for a white guy, but this was a fantastic actor, and people of all colours and ethnicities work on the border. Even so, my casting choice would prove to be a huge problem; apparently, there are many countries in the world where movies starring African-Americans other than Will Smith need not apply.
Nobody in town would finance the movie, because it had literally no appeal overseas. My weak protests – wouldn’t people go if it were actually a good movie? – were met with laughter. What does a “good movie” have to do with anything?
It had now been a year and a half since I last stepped foot on a set.
People in the industry were beginning to wonder – what was I working on? Calls were going unreturned. I developed the unmistakable stench of desperation. My wife started leaving the mortgage payment notices (and her shopping receipts) on my bedside table.
A producer friend once told me: “You’re either making a movie or you’re not. Everything else is just talk.” (He hasn’t worked in five years, but that’s another story.)
I clearly wasn’t making a movie. What I was doing was bleeding money. I had rung up a profoundly large credit card bill (wooing the various talents), ludicrously high legal fees (negotiating everyone’s deals) and astounding costs for therapy and medication (very poor health care system in America). This was in addition to actually buying the script, paying for rewrites and flying people back and forth for meetings.
Stuck in Purgatory, I’m currently faced with several decisions. Find a new actor? Hire a different director? Wait for the studio regimes to change and pray that someone responds to my script? Fire my travel agent? Get a good divorce lawyer?
It’s now been two years since I last produced a movie, and the script sits prominently on my desk, taunting me daily. Help me, it pleads, get me to the screen where I belong. Heed the signs, people tell me, this one just wasn’t meant to be. And still I carry on, for some unknown reason. Passion? Stubbornness? Desire? Stupidity? Who knows – it’s probably a combination of all of the above, but mainly the latter.
For these are the tools of my trade. I’m a producer.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
New Job
They converted the hospice into a research facility only recently. My inner child squeals at the rooms I pass... there are aged computers and patchy eurgonomic chairs there now, but you can feel the metal of the hospital beds that once inhabited the space. The city gave it to a non-profit HIV/AIDS prevention team without much thought and probably in the hopes of a good tax break. In turn, the team let out the last room on the first floor- the small one, down the hallway on the left- to my boss.
With it she makes due.
The donated copy machine in the main office broke on my first day. The quiet AIDs activist present showed me a trick: wedge the black rack into the hole gently then slam it shut. You have to do it every so often to show it who's boss. The activists are all quiet and very sweet, in contrast to my boss who, african music blaring through the walls, giggles and swears and rampages throughout the day.
She is a director. I saw her ad in the 'volunteer' section of craigslist and 2 hours after my email she called saying I got the job and could I come over now? I'm helping her during the post production process of her current documentary, and though she knows I would happily do the job for free she pays me $15 an hour.
Yesterday I sat in on a production meeting with the CEOs of a big studio. I dug my nails into my hands to keep from visually expressing my glee everytime I was introduced to someone I knew from my tv screen.
I will be helping her non-stop until she leaves for her vacation, one which is much needed and much deserved. It's something I love, so I don't mind the long hours or weekends. At night it gets cold, so we crank up the old hot box, and since the building is on a hill we get to enjoy the company of the owls as they rest before the hunt. She knows I'm a writer and that I have an interest in traveling, and has promised me that if my samples are good she will take me to South Africa to help her write her next feature.
Here's her website.
The documentary I'm helping her with is called "Angels in the Dust". It's about orphans in African, many brutally raped and some with AIDs, whose only chance is the makeshift home they call 'The Village'. The website has a promo. She told me the first night that there is no money in documentaries.
"So why do you do them?" I asked. She didn't even blink.
"Because nobody else will."
I love my new job.
With it she makes due.
The donated copy machine in the main office broke on my first day. The quiet AIDs activist present showed me a trick: wedge the black rack into the hole gently then slam it shut. You have to do it every so often to show it who's boss. The activists are all quiet and very sweet, in contrast to my boss who, african music blaring through the walls, giggles and swears and rampages throughout the day.
She is a director. I saw her ad in the 'volunteer' section of craigslist and 2 hours after my email she called saying I got the job and could I come over now? I'm helping her during the post production process of her current documentary, and though she knows I would happily do the job for free she pays me $15 an hour.
Yesterday I sat in on a production meeting with the CEOs of a big studio. I dug my nails into my hands to keep from visually expressing my glee everytime I was introduced to someone I knew from my tv screen.
I will be helping her non-stop until she leaves for her vacation, one which is much needed and much deserved. It's something I love, so I don't mind the long hours or weekends. At night it gets cold, so we crank up the old hot box, and since the building is on a hill we get to enjoy the company of the owls as they rest before the hunt. She knows I'm a writer and that I have an interest in traveling, and has promised me that if my samples are good she will take me to South Africa to help her write her next feature.
Here's her website.
The documentary I'm helping her with is called "Angels in the Dust". It's about orphans in African, many brutally raped and some with AIDs, whose only chance is the makeshift home they call 'The Village'. The website has a promo. She told me the first night that there is no money in documentaries.
"So why do you do them?" I asked. She didn't even blink.
"Because nobody else will."
I love my new job.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Excerpts...
...from an online conversation with Urban. It gets very political, slightly public broadcast formulaic at times, but I'm proud of it. It's a good indication of what me and my friends concern ourselves with in Lala land.
BTW: I'm real proud of Angel and her new job. She's directly effecting what Urban and I (below) are fighting for.
P.S.S. Angel: I agree with your point in Pan's Labyrinth but since it is a fairytale told mostly from the perspective of a very sad little girl, the Queen part (albeit sappy) fits for me.
.....
AIM IM with UrbanEsMalo.
12:24 PM
Summer Berdin: so i have an interview tomorrow for an environmental activist job
Summer Berdin: my friend told me something that shocked me
Summer Berdin: i'm a vegan
Summer Berdin: if i get the job i would be a vegan environmental activist
UrbanEsMalo: ?
Summer Berdin: conclusive statement: I would be the most annoying person in the world
UrbanEsMalo: if you became a paid activist you would become my tool
Summer Berdin: your tool?
UrbanEsMalo: there were activists outside of trader joes on the weekend
UrbanEsMalo: trying to talk to me about global warming
Summer Berdin: ah lol
UrbanEsMalo: so I said to val, I can't take this, I have to talk with them
UrbanEsMalo: and the guy got me so pissed cause he had no idea what was really going on
UrbanEsMalo: so if you became an activist, we'd have to have lots of sit downs to make sure you were just throwing up what the government wants people to believe
UrbanEsMalo: or, you could listen to the alex jones show every day
UrbanEsMalo: and become a REAL activist, and get paid for it through that other company
UrbanEsMalo: and I would love you forever for it
Summer Berdin: before you go on a rant, the job is not for kids handing out brochures
UrbanEsMalo: whats it for?
Summer Berdin: i dont exactly know WHAT the job is yet, but if it's that then I sure as hell am not taking it
Summer Berdin: handing out paper had never been my definition of "helping the cause"
UrbanEsMalo: would you like to listen to the show anyway?
UrbanEsMalo: or you wanna talk about global warming?
Summer Berdin: no, im not listening to any show
UrbanEsMalo: So you're saying you want to talk about global warming with me?
Summer Berdin: sure, right now?
UrbanEsMalo: better late than never, right?
UrbanEsMalo: whats causing it? co2 right?
UrbanEsMalo: what I am trying to talk about is the global warming that is all over the news media these days and the one that theyre talking about in congress and trying to pass laws on
UrbanEsMalo: global warming is real, but it's cause is a fraud
UrbanEsMalo: just like your article says, cow farts does more than cars
UrbanEsMalo: and even though all this shit is happening, the hottest tempeture on record was in the 1960s
Summer Berdin: so then what's really going on?
UrbanEsMalo: the Fact on global warming is that the sun is having one of its radiation cycles. Scientists have found ice caps melting on other planets
UrbanEsMalo: the solar system is warming
UrbanEsMalo: Now, i'm not saying that everything in your article isn't important. It's paramount. It's our air quality, water quality, bio diversity, the most important things in the world
UrbanEsMalo: but its not global warming
UrbanEsMalo: Global warming has been hijacked by the politicians and theyve gone from saying it doesnt exist, just two years ago, to saying its going to kill us all
UrbanEsMalo: why? Because their solution is a carbon tax
UrbanEsMalo: they want to tax people on their carbon emissions
UrbanEsMalo: but 300 some odd countries are exempt from this
UrbanEsMalo: why? Because America has been deindustrialized. All our industrial jobs are in third world countries and China
UrbanEsMalo: all our low end jobs are going to illegal immigrants who are getting money from Wells Fargo and Bank of America to come in and set up roots
UrbanEsMalo: what does that leave for us? Tech jobs? No, those are exported to india remember?
UrbanEsMalo: All that will be left is government jobs and the wierd odds and ends
Summer Berdin: thats dumb. instead of finding a way to stop the carbon emissions they tax people on them? plus, Bush refused to sign the UN treaty on lowing emissions coming from the US because he said "if China wont, we wont" so is he gonna tax us?
UrbanEsMalo: Add to that our carbon tax and high gas prices, we can now no longer travel far. Experts are saying in 30 years only the rich can afford to travel by plane. There is legislature being set up all over the country to set up toll booths on major highways that we've already paid for
UrbanEsMalo: those toll booths will also be equiped with scanning cameras, check points, you name it
UrbanEsMalo: so now theyre carbon taxing us and toll roading us on roads we've already paid for
UrbanEsMalo: the dollar has been devalued by over 70% of what it was worth just 30 years ago
Summer Berdin: so basically what you're saying is that this whole "global warming" thing is just a tool for the rich to getting a firmer hold on the people and, basically, keep getting rich
UrbanEsMalo: there is a massive globalist scheme that you can see signs off in every news article in order to turn us into indentured servants. You can't rule a people unless you oppress them
Summer Berdin: the people are fully oppressed already, they love being oppressed
Summer Berdin: (not saying it as a good thing, just as fact)
UrbanEsMalo: look at the dumb shit happening in schools these days? Kids are being conditioned by police to rat on their parents and get arrested for the stupedist shit
Summer Berdin: but does that mean any efforts made by grassroots companies to stop global warming is null and void because it's not happening? it's still a problem, isn't it?
Summer Berdin: yes, it is
Summer Berdin: so what's to be done... obviously the government cant be trusted (which should have been obvious since the day Bush became president anyway)
Summer Berdin: are we discussing global warming or something else, Urb?
UrbanEsMalo: What can we do against the sun? Grass roots movements had global warming as a buzzword and it's been hijacked to be used against us. Grass roots neeed to fight for Air quality because kids in LA are asmatic, water quality because there is no excuse for having floride and mercury in our water supply when both chemicals have been shown to have adverse effects on the brain
UrbanEsMalo: biodiversity to promote growth in third world economies
Summer Berdin: they do... it's all under the umbrella of "stopping global warming" but all of those issues are being looked into
UrbanEsMalo: anti bio engineering of our food
UrbanEsMalo: global warming is an excuse for a tax that they feed into
UrbanEsMalo: educate people about the real issues and not umbrella topics
Summer Berdin: the phrase "global warming" may be a con used by politicians or what not, but it's also used by well-meaning people to get done what needs to be gotten done done
Summer Berdin: it's their biggest weapon to "scare" the masses into finally getting up and helping
UrbanEsMalo: so become the devil in order to fight the devil?
Summer Berdin: otherwise, the masses would just sit on their couches watching tv saying "woe is me". with the phrase "global warming" there is a new urgency that can be used for good
UrbanEsMalo: what happens when global warming is exposed for what it is? The environmentalist movement would come under question as well
UrbanEsMalo: its not being used for good though
Summer Berdin: not become the devil, just use the devil's tools for good is all
UrbanEsMalo: its being used to further an oppressive and secret agenda
Summer Berdin: it's like in chinese sword fighting. if you don't have a weapon to counter your attacker's sword, use your hands to cradle the attack and push it back at him. use his weapon against him
UrbanEsMalo: thats heralding a golden calf though
UrbanEsMalo: when its exposed for a lie, you fall with it
Summer Berdin: i doubt it will get "exposed". if it does, then it wont be anytime soon- it's too profitable
UrbanEsMalo: and every "good" thing theyre trying to do
UrbanEsMalo: youre feeding into it
Summer Berdin: that doesn't mean you should stop trying to help
Summer Berdin: if there is a system going on, and you can't destroy the system, you work around it
UrbanEsMalo: I never said that
Summer Berdin: if it gets exposed, the people will be looking more at the politicians than anything
UrbanEsMalo: you START trying to help with the real issues
UrbanEsMalo: how is mercury poisoning in infants any less important than global warming?
Summer Berdin: and if they look at the grassroots companies, who cares? the whole essence of grassroots is fallible... hense "grassroots". they can start afresh with whatever new government scheme is going on and fight from there
Summer Berdin: it's not any less important
UrbanEsMalo: I never said that either
Summer Berdin: so what are you trying to say?
Summer Berdin: there are companies that revolve around those issues
Summer Berdin: but a company that tries to deal with all issues instead of just focusing on one will not get anything done
UrbanEsMalo: you dont lie to people, simple as that
Summer Berdin: ah
Summer Berdin: yes you do, urban
Summer Berdin: people, singular, as good and well meaning and smart
UrbanEsMalo: I never said deal with one issue
UrbanEsMalo: you've gotten all these misleading ideas from what I was saying
Summer Berdin: but people en mass... they don't think individually, but with mass hysteria
Summer Berdin: lying is sometimes essential... but it should not be done often and should not be done for profit
Summer Berdin: using the global warming umbrella might be lying but it's not completely a bad thing
UrbanEsMalo: it is when its also being used to oppress people
Summer Berdin: thats like flavoring medicine with cherry sugar. the child knows the medicine is good for him and will ultimately make his life easier, but he needs the added gloss to willingly take it in
Summer Berdin: he KNOWS he needs it
Summer Berdin: but the sugar helps
UrbanEsMalo: by doing so you comply with what they want, to create a pan american highway, police checkpoints, toll roads on existing roads, and turning the populace into willing serfs
UrbanEsMalo: don't get me started on what pharmasutical companies are really doing
Summer Berdin: global warming is just 2 words put together for sugar, but the problems are out there. why not use the sugar to help the people swallow the issues?
UrbanEsMalo: does sugar make slavery easier to accept?
UrbanEsMalo: cause tahts how its being used
Summer Berdin: no, but the companies that help the government obviously arent doing their jobs
UrbanEsMalo: nor will they, theyre paid Not to
Summer Berdin: true (non-funded by the government) grassroots companies know better
UrbanEsMalo: I would have hoped so, but those fliar kids said otherwise
UrbanEsMalo: also, lots of these supposed grass roots joints are funded by the CIA to advance an agenda
Summer Berdin: its a shame that others have sunken to govenment depths, but what can you do? that'll always happen, no matter what is going on
UrbanEsMalo: the woman who started the femenist movement has openly stated the CIA paid her to do it
UrbanEsMalo: thats the core of the issue summer
UrbanEsMalo: what can you do?
UrbanEsMalo: You become educated
UrbanEsMalo: you tell people whats really happening
UrbanEsMalo: you spread the word
UrbanEsMalo: thats all
UrbanEsMalo: ignorance is power in the hands of a few
UrbanEsMalo: they get away with everything, because people can't believe it, don't care, or are just flat ignorant to whats going on
UrbanEsMalo: Have i told you the stuff Merck was doing with the cervical cancer shot?
Summer Berdin: yes
UrbanEsMalo: how they lobbied the governor of texas to make it mandated?
Summer Berdin: in texas
Summer Berdin: yes
UrbanEsMalo: and it was causing girls to bleed out
UrbanEsMalo: Guess what, we're beating it. The Merck CEO announced she was stepping down
UrbanEsMalo: that theyre going to stop lobbying for it
UrbanEsMalo: why? You get people to talk
UrbanEsMalo: thats it
Summer Berdin: well, im hoping the job i get tomorrow will be to help inform the people, not confuse them into submission
BTW: I'm real proud of Angel and her new job. She's directly effecting what Urban and I (below) are fighting for.
P.S.S. Angel: I agree with your point in Pan's Labyrinth but since it is a fairytale told mostly from the perspective of a very sad little girl, the Queen part (albeit sappy) fits for me.
.....
AIM IM with UrbanEsMalo.
12:24 PM
Summer Berdin: so i have an interview tomorrow for an environmental activist job
Summer Berdin: my friend told me something that shocked me
Summer Berdin: i'm a vegan
Summer Berdin: if i get the job i would be a vegan environmental activist
UrbanEsMalo: ?
Summer Berdin: conclusive statement: I would be the most annoying person in the world
UrbanEsMalo: if you became a paid activist you would become my tool
Summer Berdin: your tool?
UrbanEsMalo: there were activists outside of trader joes on the weekend
UrbanEsMalo: trying to talk to me about global warming
Summer Berdin: ah lol
UrbanEsMalo: so I said to val, I can't take this, I have to talk with them
UrbanEsMalo: and the guy got me so pissed cause he had no idea what was really going on
UrbanEsMalo: so if you became an activist, we'd have to have lots of sit downs to make sure you were just throwing up what the government wants people to believe
UrbanEsMalo: or, you could listen to the alex jones show every day
UrbanEsMalo: and become a REAL activist, and get paid for it through that other company
UrbanEsMalo: and I would love you forever for it
Summer Berdin: before you go on a rant, the job is not for kids handing out brochures
UrbanEsMalo: whats it for?
Summer Berdin: i dont exactly know WHAT the job is yet, but if it's that then I sure as hell am not taking it
Summer Berdin: handing out paper had never been my definition of "helping the cause"
UrbanEsMalo: would you like to listen to the show anyway?
UrbanEsMalo: or you wanna talk about global warming?
Summer Berdin: no, im not listening to any show
UrbanEsMalo: So you're saying you want to talk about global warming with me?
Summer Berdin: sure, right now?
UrbanEsMalo: better late than never, right?
UrbanEsMalo: whats causing it? co2 right?
UrbanEsMalo: what I am trying to talk about is the global warming that is all over the news media these days and the one that theyre talking about in congress and trying to pass laws on
UrbanEsMalo: global warming is real, but it's cause is a fraud
UrbanEsMalo: just like your article says, cow farts does more than cars
UrbanEsMalo: and even though all this shit is happening, the hottest tempeture on record was in the 1960s
Summer Berdin: so then what's really going on?
UrbanEsMalo: the Fact on global warming is that the sun is having one of its radiation cycles. Scientists have found ice caps melting on other planets
UrbanEsMalo: the solar system is warming
UrbanEsMalo: Now, i'm not saying that everything in your article isn't important. It's paramount. It's our air quality, water quality, bio diversity, the most important things in the world
UrbanEsMalo: but its not global warming
UrbanEsMalo: Global warming has been hijacked by the politicians and theyve gone from saying it doesnt exist, just two years ago, to saying its going to kill us all
UrbanEsMalo: why? Because their solution is a carbon tax
UrbanEsMalo: they want to tax people on their carbon emissions
UrbanEsMalo: but 300 some odd countries are exempt from this
UrbanEsMalo: why? Because America has been deindustrialized. All our industrial jobs are in third world countries and China
UrbanEsMalo: all our low end jobs are going to illegal immigrants who are getting money from Wells Fargo and Bank of America to come in and set up roots
UrbanEsMalo: what does that leave for us? Tech jobs? No, those are exported to india remember?
UrbanEsMalo: All that will be left is government jobs and the wierd odds and ends
Summer Berdin: thats dumb. instead of finding a way to stop the carbon emissions they tax people on them? plus, Bush refused to sign the UN treaty on lowing emissions coming from the US because he said "if China wont, we wont" so is he gonna tax us?
UrbanEsMalo: Add to that our carbon tax and high gas prices, we can now no longer travel far. Experts are saying in 30 years only the rich can afford to travel by plane. There is legislature being set up all over the country to set up toll booths on major highways that we've already paid for
UrbanEsMalo: those toll booths will also be equiped with scanning cameras, check points, you name it
UrbanEsMalo: so now theyre carbon taxing us and toll roading us on roads we've already paid for
UrbanEsMalo: the dollar has been devalued by over 70% of what it was worth just 30 years ago
Summer Berdin: so basically what you're saying is that this whole "global warming" thing is just a tool for the rich to getting a firmer hold on the people and, basically, keep getting rich
UrbanEsMalo: there is a massive globalist scheme that you can see signs off in every news article in order to turn us into indentured servants. You can't rule a people unless you oppress them
Summer Berdin: the people are fully oppressed already, they love being oppressed
Summer Berdin: (not saying it as a good thing, just as fact)
UrbanEsMalo: look at the dumb shit happening in schools these days? Kids are being conditioned by police to rat on their parents and get arrested for the stupedist shit
Summer Berdin: but does that mean any efforts made by grassroots companies to stop global warming is null and void because it's not happening? it's still a problem, isn't it?
Summer Berdin: yes, it is
Summer Berdin: so what's to be done... obviously the government cant be trusted (which should have been obvious since the day Bush became president anyway)
Summer Berdin: are we discussing global warming or something else, Urb?
UrbanEsMalo: What can we do against the sun? Grass roots movements had global warming as a buzzword and it's been hijacked to be used against us. Grass roots neeed to fight for Air quality because kids in LA are asmatic, water quality because there is no excuse for having floride and mercury in our water supply when both chemicals have been shown to have adverse effects on the brain
UrbanEsMalo: biodiversity to promote growth in third world economies
Summer Berdin: they do... it's all under the umbrella of "stopping global warming" but all of those issues are being looked into
UrbanEsMalo: anti bio engineering of our food
UrbanEsMalo: global warming is an excuse for a tax that they feed into
UrbanEsMalo: educate people about the real issues and not umbrella topics
Summer Berdin: the phrase "global warming" may be a con used by politicians or what not, but it's also used by well-meaning people to get done what needs to be gotten done done
Summer Berdin: it's their biggest weapon to "scare" the masses into finally getting up and helping
UrbanEsMalo: so become the devil in order to fight the devil?
Summer Berdin: otherwise, the masses would just sit on their couches watching tv saying "woe is me". with the phrase "global warming" there is a new urgency that can be used for good
UrbanEsMalo: what happens when global warming is exposed for what it is? The environmentalist movement would come under question as well
UrbanEsMalo: its not being used for good though
Summer Berdin: not become the devil, just use the devil's tools for good is all
UrbanEsMalo: its being used to further an oppressive and secret agenda
Summer Berdin: it's like in chinese sword fighting. if you don't have a weapon to counter your attacker's sword, use your hands to cradle the attack and push it back at him. use his weapon against him
UrbanEsMalo: thats heralding a golden calf though
UrbanEsMalo: when its exposed for a lie, you fall with it
Summer Berdin: i doubt it will get "exposed". if it does, then it wont be anytime soon- it's too profitable
UrbanEsMalo: and every "good" thing theyre trying to do
UrbanEsMalo: youre feeding into it
Summer Berdin: that doesn't mean you should stop trying to help
Summer Berdin: if there is a system going on, and you can't destroy the system, you work around it
UrbanEsMalo: I never said that
Summer Berdin: if it gets exposed, the people will be looking more at the politicians than anything
UrbanEsMalo: you START trying to help with the real issues
UrbanEsMalo: how is mercury poisoning in infants any less important than global warming?
Summer Berdin: and if they look at the grassroots companies, who cares? the whole essence of grassroots is fallible... hense "grassroots". they can start afresh with whatever new government scheme is going on and fight from there
Summer Berdin: it's not any less important
UrbanEsMalo: I never said that either
Summer Berdin: so what are you trying to say?
Summer Berdin: there are companies that revolve around those issues
Summer Berdin: but a company that tries to deal with all issues instead of just focusing on one will not get anything done
UrbanEsMalo: you dont lie to people, simple as that
Summer Berdin: ah
Summer Berdin: yes you do, urban
Summer Berdin: people, singular, as good and well meaning and smart
UrbanEsMalo: I never said deal with one issue
UrbanEsMalo: you've gotten all these misleading ideas from what I was saying
Summer Berdin: but people en mass... they don't think individually, but with mass hysteria
Summer Berdin: lying is sometimes essential... but it should not be done often and should not be done for profit
Summer Berdin: using the global warming umbrella might be lying but it's not completely a bad thing
UrbanEsMalo: it is when its also being used to oppress people
Summer Berdin: thats like flavoring medicine with cherry sugar. the child knows the medicine is good for him and will ultimately make his life easier, but he needs the added gloss to willingly take it in
Summer Berdin: he KNOWS he needs it
Summer Berdin: but the sugar helps
UrbanEsMalo: by doing so you comply with what they want, to create a pan american highway, police checkpoints, toll roads on existing roads, and turning the populace into willing serfs
UrbanEsMalo: don't get me started on what pharmasutical companies are really doing
Summer Berdin: global warming is just 2 words put together for sugar, but the problems are out there. why not use the sugar to help the people swallow the issues?
UrbanEsMalo: does sugar make slavery easier to accept?
UrbanEsMalo: cause tahts how its being used
Summer Berdin: no, but the companies that help the government obviously arent doing their jobs
UrbanEsMalo: nor will they, theyre paid Not to
Summer Berdin: true (non-funded by the government) grassroots companies know better
UrbanEsMalo: I would have hoped so, but those fliar kids said otherwise
UrbanEsMalo: also, lots of these supposed grass roots joints are funded by the CIA to advance an agenda
Summer Berdin: its a shame that others have sunken to govenment depths, but what can you do? that'll always happen, no matter what is going on
UrbanEsMalo: the woman who started the femenist movement has openly stated the CIA paid her to do it
UrbanEsMalo: thats the core of the issue summer
UrbanEsMalo: what can you do?
UrbanEsMalo: You become educated
UrbanEsMalo: you tell people whats really happening
UrbanEsMalo: you spread the word
UrbanEsMalo: thats all
UrbanEsMalo: ignorance is power in the hands of a few
UrbanEsMalo: they get away with everything, because people can't believe it, don't care, or are just flat ignorant to whats going on
UrbanEsMalo: Have i told you the stuff Merck was doing with the cervical cancer shot?
Summer Berdin: yes
UrbanEsMalo: how they lobbied the governor of texas to make it mandated?
Summer Berdin: in texas
Summer Berdin: yes
UrbanEsMalo: and it was causing girls to bleed out
UrbanEsMalo: Guess what, we're beating it. The Merck CEO announced she was stepping down
UrbanEsMalo: that theyre going to stop lobbying for it
UrbanEsMalo: why? You get people to talk
UrbanEsMalo: thats it
Summer Berdin: well, im hoping the job i get tomorrow will be to help inform the people, not confuse them into submission
Awww... how cute
I walk into my room and Cleo's butt is sticking out from under my bookcase, tail dancing in the wind.
She must have found the leopard print mouse toy.
Random:
- 2 of the 3 40watt lightbulbs in the bathroom were out, so I replaced them with 3 60watt FUSION RAY bulbs. Now everytime I flip the switch it's so bright it's bordering on the obscene.
- Me and Louie hung out for a day. Like- Hung Out. Like- at the mall and the arcade and stuff. AWESOME. Haven't done that in years!
- It's 1AM and I work tomorrow morning (part-time Spa job). Why am I still up? Because of 10 Things I Hate About You. And I'm loving every second of it.
- I made the most awesomely thorough, completely conclusive 'Character Developement' packets EVER IN LIFE tonight. I should patent them! (Hopefully fullcircle.com doesn't mind that I stole 99% of it from them haha.) Character bios here I come!
She must have found the leopard print mouse toy.
Random:
- 2 of the 3 40watt lightbulbs in the bathroom were out, so I replaced them with 3 60watt FUSION RAY bulbs. Now everytime I flip the switch it's so bright it's bordering on the obscene.
- Me and Louie hung out for a day. Like- Hung Out. Like- at the mall and the arcade and stuff. AWESOME. Haven't done that in years!
- It's 1AM and I work tomorrow morning (part-time Spa job). Why am I still up? Because of 10 Things I Hate About You. And I'm loving every second of it.
- I made the most awesomely thorough, completely conclusive 'Character Developement' packets EVER IN LIFE tonight. I should patent them! (Hopefully fullcircle.com doesn't mind that I stole 99% of it from them haha.) Character bios here I come!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Refreshing Honesty at Night
My last week at E! was (predictably) busy, but the anxiety was brought to climatic upheaval because of the recent death of Anna Nicole Smith. All around me people were cursing her name due to the added amounts of quick turnaround work dealt their way by her passing. Because of my leaving I was left out of all but the urgent projects, so my mindset tackling each job was different and not so personal.
And it was sad, watching the people around me.
I might have said this before, but E! Entertainment is to TV like MacDonalds is to a well-balanced diet. It's quick, mindless, and not healthy for you. Despite the good gloss it has going to make it look respectable (like popular host Ryan Seacrest), it still- deep down- is no better than the National Enquirer. I have worked on projects that have picked at and scrutinized people SO MUCH (for everything from physical looks to personality to talent) that the average person without "celebrity status" would have had good cause to file harrassment claims- and WIN, no less- against the channel. It's quite bad, and emotionally unstable people (like Anna Nicole), who obviously need some personal time and space to deal with their problems, are batted around viciously without the blink of an eye for the hopes of "good ratings" .
My coworkers (and probably me as well, if I had not been quiting) instead of having some sense of respect for the dead, sat on the day of Anna Nicole's death and cursed her name... and the work they were responsible for making aided to more public speculation and scrutiny of the now dead ANS by the millions of viewers who gobbled up the gossip that night.
Like a black hole, I guess.
Anyway, Pete showed me something quite refreshing today. Craig Ferguson from the Late Late Show recently opened an episode with a different kind of monologue - a heartfelt one, dealing kinda with the same issue that I just mentioned. You can see it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bbaRyDLMvA
It's nice to see. Chris told me once that my work at E! was not pointless... otherwise "how else would you have known how stupid all that stuff was?"
Better words were never said, sir. If I had never worked there, I would still be watching that tripe today. Maybe that's why I've become so 'environmentally & politically boheme'. :)
Random:
- Speaking of boheme, I've applied for an environmental activist job where I'd be making brochures and speaking to people to raise public awareness about ways to cut down on pollution (and to get their votes in for new regulations!) in the state of California. If I got it, I would be a Vegan Environmental Activist. Weird. James put it nicely: "You would be the most annoying person on earth." Haha.
- It's weird that once I get out of the daily grind Angel gets into it. Let's hope the tables completely turn and I get an exciting travel job!
- Started character outlines & bios! As soon as these are done (shooting for friday) I can start writing the first draft of the book! HELLZ YEAH!
And it was sad, watching the people around me.
I might have said this before, but E! Entertainment is to TV like MacDonalds is to a well-balanced diet. It's quick, mindless, and not healthy for you. Despite the good gloss it has going to make it look respectable (like popular host Ryan Seacrest), it still- deep down- is no better than the National Enquirer. I have worked on projects that have picked at and scrutinized people SO MUCH (for everything from physical looks to personality to talent) that the average person without "celebrity status" would have had good cause to file harrassment claims- and WIN, no less- against the channel. It's quite bad, and emotionally unstable people (like Anna Nicole), who obviously need some personal time and space to deal with their problems, are batted around viciously without the blink of an eye for the hopes of "good ratings" .
My coworkers (and probably me as well, if I had not been quiting) instead of having some sense of respect for the dead, sat on the day of Anna Nicole's death and cursed her name... and the work they were responsible for making aided to more public speculation and scrutiny of the now dead ANS by the millions of viewers who gobbled up the gossip that night.
Like a black hole, I guess.
Anyway, Pete showed me something quite refreshing today. Craig Ferguson from the Late Late Show recently opened an episode with a different kind of monologue - a heartfelt one, dealing kinda with the same issue that I just mentioned. You can see it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bbaRyDLMvA
It's nice to see. Chris told me once that my work at E! was not pointless... otherwise "how else would you have known how stupid all that stuff was?"
Better words were never said, sir. If I had never worked there, I would still be watching that tripe today. Maybe that's why I've become so 'environmentally & politically boheme'. :)
Random:
- Speaking of boheme, I've applied for an environmental activist job where I'd be making brochures and speaking to people to raise public awareness about ways to cut down on pollution (and to get their votes in for new regulations!) in the state of California. If I got it, I would be a Vegan Environmental Activist. Weird. James put it nicely: "You would be the most annoying person on earth." Haha.
- It's weird that once I get out of the daily grind Angel gets into it. Let's hope the tables completely turn and I get an exciting travel job!
- Started character outlines & bios! As soon as these are done (shooting for friday) I can start writing the first draft of the book! HELLZ YEAH!
Monday, February 19, 2007
Transition
The last 3 weeks have been so.... weird. No. Hectic? No. Exciting? No.
Transitional.
To start off with: I quit E!.
Friday was my last day. Wow... let me say that again. Friday was my last day. Wow.
Seeing as I try to be professional with things of that matter, I gave in my two weeks notice two weeks ago. But I said I've had 3 random weeks, so let's back track a bit.
Events in chronological order, from past to present:
Fri, Sat, Sun - We filmed Peter's movie "The Punching Dummy"
Sat - Andy came back from Switzerland for 2 weeks
Mon - Started the 2nd draft of my book's outline
Wed - Mental breakdown at work, a public fight with bossman Bryan, and walked out
Thurs - Began an internship helping a vegan chef write her first book
Sat - Filmmaker House BarBQ celebration
Sun - Filmmaker House Superbowl BarBQ
Mon - Turned in 2 weeks notice
Tues - Halfway through 2nd draft outline
Wed - CSI location scouts knock on our door and ask if they can film at our house
Fri - CSI crew bring in plants and background material
Sat - Bye Bye Andy :(
Sat #2 - Rikka's in from Finland! Spend night with her
Sun - Work the Grammy's (12 hours, bleh- 2pm to 2am)
Mon - 5am CSI comes to house, films all day
Mon #2 - Saw Pan's Labyrinth
Tues, Wed, Thurs - Interview, after Interview, after Interview
Thurs #2 - Goodbye lunch with E! crew
Thurs #3 - Finish 2nd Outline of Book!!!
Fri - Last day. Surprise goodbye cake from E! crew, Drinks at night
Sat - Depression
Sun - Clean my room
Today - Excitement. Possibly start first draft of book?!
*whew*
Putting everything in a list like that is kinda cool in a way- you can see (a little) how the events in my life connected and led up to E!'s ultimate demise. It was full of signs from above showing me what I came to California (and am ultimately not working some random job at home) for.
The 2 most common questions I got in my last 2 weeks at E! were: "Why?" and "Where are you going next?", to which I would reply:
"I'm writing a book and need more time to work on it. I'll just get temp jobs or small jobs until it's done."
This is true. I want to finish my book before June (so I can shop it around for the rest of the year and hopefully have it published before my 25th birthday in 2008). Working at E! is a hinderance because I know too much about my job and naturally am inclined to work as hard as I can to get it done, which includes my own insane insistance on helping during my off-hours.
But something else made me quit too. Bryan thinks it's because we fought (I know he does, even though he says he doesn't). Not true. I'm ashamed of the fact that I had to walk out of my job- it shows a lack of dependibility on my part- but I'm glad I did. To be dramatic: it was a turning point.
I was mad initially because of something stupid... someone had called me in the morning to ask for help on something. I'm the only person who knows about certain aspects of my job so naturally people will (and do) call. But that day I was tired from having stayed up all night for the last 4 nights working on Peter's film and my book outline, and being woken up during my first few hours of sleep for the week was unpleasant.
So it all spiraled out of control and I went home. And after simmering, I had a good think. And voila! Turning point:
I work hard enough at E! to ask for a raise.
I shudder now to remember it. After a weekend chalk full of creativity, and a Monday and Tuesday of self-art progression, my first thought when it came to work was "more money." I had become corporate. The temp job I had taken for the sake of "making the rent" a year and a half ago (the one I had refused to be promoted in for almost 2 months because of my fear of become familiar) had now become some obsessive materialistic means to an end. Think Devil Wears Prada.
That weekend, when I realized what I had become, I wrote my resignation letter.
Of course, when people at E! asked me why I was leaving, I took out that part :)
Anywhoo, pictures:
Behind the Scenes of "The Punching Dummy":
Andy was back! (For just 2 weeks). Here he is saying hello to my computer:
Behind the Scenes of CSI "Episode 18":
Here's some footage I took of them filming a take with Gary Dourdan:
What's next for me? I'll work temp jobs or whatever to make the bills, and focus on writing my book. At the guidance of the vegan chef lady, I'm going on a "cleanse" for the next 2 weeks - where I don't eat anything and drink healthy mixes of herb drinks to flush my system of impurities - and then the week after that I'll be in San Fransisco working in Wondercon. And hopefully after that my short film, Peter's short film, and Louie's short film will all be a part of the Filmmaker's House First Annual Film Festival. Productive, eh?
Random:
- God it feels good to be back on my blog
- Brandi started a "Brandi and Kevin wedding blog" for her bridesmaids so that we can communicate with each other ideas and such. I gotta remember to write on that.
- I saw Famke Jenssen (at a VEGAN restaurant no less!) and Cuba Gooding Jr!
- Pan's Labyrinth is the best movie I've seen in a long time... it's definitely above Little Miss Sunshine, Children of Men and The Departed.
- I ate so much in the last 2 weeks (stress) that this cleanse will do me good. Hopefully I'll take off those added pounds.
- Lea Salonga is my new favorite of the month. Besides the fact that she was the one who sang my favorite rendition of Les Miz's "On My Own" (as well as being THE voice for Jasmine in "A Whole New World"), she's the most important and influential Filipino figure on Broadway today. Hell, she's probably the only filipino figure on Broadway today. This is her, singing "On My Own":
Transitional.
To start off with: I quit E!.
Friday was my last day. Wow... let me say that again. Friday was my last day. Wow.
Seeing as I try to be professional with things of that matter, I gave in my two weeks notice two weeks ago. But I said I've had 3 random weeks, so let's back track a bit.
Events in chronological order, from past to present:
Fri, Sat, Sun - We filmed Peter's movie "The Punching Dummy"
Sat - Andy came back from Switzerland for 2 weeks
Mon - Started the 2nd draft of my book's outline
Wed - Mental breakdown at work, a public fight with bossman Bryan, and walked out
Thurs - Began an internship helping a vegan chef write her first book
Sat - Filmmaker House BarBQ celebration
Sun - Filmmaker House Superbowl BarBQ
Mon - Turned in 2 weeks notice
Tues - Halfway through 2nd draft outline
Wed - CSI location scouts knock on our door and ask if they can film at our house
Fri - CSI crew bring in plants and background material
Sat - Bye Bye Andy :(
Sat #2 - Rikka's in from Finland! Spend night with her
Sun - Work the Grammy's (12 hours, bleh- 2pm to 2am)
Mon - 5am CSI comes to house, films all day
Mon #2 - Saw Pan's Labyrinth
Tues, Wed, Thurs - Interview, after Interview, after Interview
Thurs #2 - Goodbye lunch with E! crew
Thurs #3 - Finish 2nd Outline of Book!!!
Fri - Last day. Surprise goodbye cake from E! crew, Drinks at night
Sat - Depression
Sun - Clean my room
Today - Excitement. Possibly start first draft of book?!
*whew*
Putting everything in a list like that is kinda cool in a way- you can see (a little) how the events in my life connected and led up to E!'s ultimate demise. It was full of signs from above showing me what I came to California (and am ultimately not working some random job at home) for.
The 2 most common questions I got in my last 2 weeks at E! were: "Why?" and "Where are you going next?", to which I would reply:
"I'm writing a book and need more time to work on it. I'll just get temp jobs or small jobs until it's done."
This is true. I want to finish my book before June (so I can shop it around for the rest of the year and hopefully have it published before my 25th birthday in 2008). Working at E! is a hinderance because I know too much about my job and naturally am inclined to work as hard as I can to get it done, which includes my own insane insistance on helping during my off-hours.
But something else made me quit too. Bryan thinks it's because we fought (I know he does, even though he says he doesn't). Not true. I'm ashamed of the fact that I had to walk out of my job- it shows a lack of dependibility on my part- but I'm glad I did. To be dramatic: it was a turning point.
I was mad initially because of something stupid... someone had called me in the morning to ask for help on something. I'm the only person who knows about certain aspects of my job so naturally people will (and do) call. But that day I was tired from having stayed up all night for the last 4 nights working on Peter's film and my book outline, and being woken up during my first few hours of sleep for the week was unpleasant.
So it all spiraled out of control and I went home. And after simmering, I had a good think. And voila! Turning point:
I work hard enough at E! to ask for a raise.
I shudder now to remember it. After a weekend chalk full of creativity, and a Monday and Tuesday of self-art progression, my first thought when it came to work was "more money." I had become corporate. The temp job I had taken for the sake of "making the rent" a year and a half ago (the one I had refused to be promoted in for almost 2 months because of my fear of become familiar) had now become some obsessive materialistic means to an end. Think Devil Wears Prada.
That weekend, when I realized what I had become, I wrote my resignation letter.
Of course, when people at E! asked me why I was leaving, I took out that part :)
Anywhoo, pictures:
Behind the Scenes of "The Punching Dummy":
Andy was back! (For just 2 weeks). Here he is saying hello to my computer:
Behind the Scenes of CSI "Episode 18":
Here's some footage I took of them filming a take with Gary Dourdan:
What's next for me? I'll work temp jobs or whatever to make the bills, and focus on writing my book. At the guidance of the vegan chef lady, I'm going on a "cleanse" for the next 2 weeks - where I don't eat anything and drink healthy mixes of herb drinks to flush my system of impurities - and then the week after that I'll be in San Fransisco working in Wondercon. And hopefully after that my short film, Peter's short film, and Louie's short film will all be a part of the Filmmaker's House First Annual Film Festival. Productive, eh?
Random:
- God it feels good to be back on my blog
- Brandi started a "Brandi and Kevin wedding blog" for her bridesmaids so that we can communicate with each other ideas and such. I gotta remember to write on that.
- I saw Famke Jenssen (at a VEGAN restaurant no less!) and Cuba Gooding Jr!
- Pan's Labyrinth is the best movie I've seen in a long time... it's definitely above Little Miss Sunshine, Children of Men and The Departed.
- I ate so much in the last 2 weeks (stress) that this cleanse will do me good. Hopefully I'll take off those added pounds.
- Lea Salonga is my new favorite of the month. Besides the fact that she was the one who sang my favorite rendition of Les Miz's "On My Own" (as well as being THE voice for Jasmine in "A Whole New World"), she's the most important and influential Filipino figure on Broadway today. Hell, she's probably the only filipino figure on Broadway today. This is her, singing "On My Own":
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Developements
YES! HAZZAH! CELEBRATION!!!
I've completed the outline for my book!
Finally, after stressing about it for a week and a half, I sat down last night and poured into 3 1/2 pages the outcome of my beloved tale. Elation! I've sent it off to some entrusted colleagues for critique, and as soon as they get back to me I'm free to start writing.
OMG I can't wait.
AND...
MY BREAKDANCING DVDS COME IN TODAY!!! DOUBLE YAY!
I'll be advancing in BGirl status in no time. This monday I went to the hip hop class at the Meridian. OMG, can I say FUN? And- excruciatingly embarrasing. I looked like Chris Farley on stage at a Justin Timberlake concert... all the people around me (including the illustrious teacher) had been backup dancers in music videos before, and had the moves and physique to proove it. I can't even do the 2-step. But I had a great time :)
BTW, if anybody is interested in stopping global warming, look at this. I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but if you're not gonna at least TRY it for the animals or yourself- try it for the future of human kind. It's a small thing to ask.
I kinda disagree with what the article is saying though. If you really want to make a difference, vegan- not vegetarian- is really the only way to go. Vegetarians still eat eggs, cheese, and milk products, which means that the farms will still continue to exist. Erase the demand, erase the problem.
OH HAPPY DAY!
P.S. I completely agree Angel. Gameday. Hellz yeah! Oh- and I don't think it was the cat that got the milk spit at her... it was the little girl. Hehe.
I've completed the outline for my book!
Finally, after stressing about it for a week and a half, I sat down last night and poured into 3 1/2 pages the outcome of my beloved tale. Elation! I've sent it off to some entrusted colleagues for critique, and as soon as they get back to me I'm free to start writing.
OMG I can't wait.
AND...
MY BREAKDANCING DVDS COME IN TODAY!!! DOUBLE YAY!
I'll be advancing in BGirl status in no time. This monday I went to the hip hop class at the Meridian. OMG, can I say FUN? And- excruciatingly embarrasing. I looked like Chris Farley on stage at a Justin Timberlake concert... all the people around me (including the illustrious teacher) had been backup dancers in music videos before, and had the moves and physique to proove it. I can't even do the 2-step. But I had a great time :)
BTW, if anybody is interested in stopping global warming, look at this. I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but if you're not gonna at least TRY it for the animals or yourself- try it for the future of human kind. It's a small thing to ask.
I kinda disagree with what the article is saying though. If you really want to make a difference, vegan- not vegetarian- is really the only way to go. Vegetarians still eat eggs, cheese, and milk products, which means that the farms will still continue to exist. Erase the demand, erase the problem.
OH HAPPY DAY!
P.S. I completely agree Angel. Gameday. Hellz yeah! Oh- and I don't think it was the cat that got the milk spit at her... it was the little girl. Hehe.
Friday, January 19, 2007
You Know Who You Are
You.
I see you.
Don't act like you can't hear me.
I adore you. I worship you. I love you.
This is the thanks I get?
Don't walk away from me while I'm talking to you.
I spend endless hours at work making money for you.
When I come home, I make dinner for you.
I shower you with affection, even if I'm tired, drained, distraught.
I sleep on the far side of the bed! FOR YOU!
I never ask for anything in return.
I don't ask for appreciation.
I don't DARE ask for love...
but dammit, I'd hoped at least our relationship was beyond That.
Poop INSIDE the litter box you %&#*@$ CAT!
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How pathetic. You couldn't even look at the camera for our family picture. I despise you.
I see you.
Don't act like you can't hear me.
I adore you. I worship you. I love you.
This is the thanks I get?
Don't walk away from me while I'm talking to you.
I spend endless hours at work making money for you.
When I come home, I make dinner for you.
I shower you with affection, even if I'm tired, drained, distraught.
I sleep on the far side of the bed! FOR YOU!
I never ask for anything in return.
I don't ask for appreciation.
I don't DARE ask for love...
but dammit, I'd hoped at least our relationship was beyond That.
Poop INSIDE the litter box you %&#*@$ CAT!
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How pathetic. You couldn't even look at the camera for our family picture. I despise you.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
MY HERO!!
Her name is Sofia Boutella. She breakdances.
Girl crush.
I'm so in awe. I wanna be her. Breakdancing has always been something I was interested in... kids in school used to breakdance during lunch and I would watch from afar, staring wonderously at these magical beasts of motion. Juan used to do it in college, too, and I would gasp and stare and be jealous of all the things he could do that I was too afraid to try. Then I saw Sofia's video on youtube last week and I realised- I can do that! So I started to.
For the last couple days I've been practicing... standing on my hands and building upper body strength is mainly where my concentration has been so far. It would be so cool to start on the floor moves after that- I can't wait! I netflixed videos (because I'm poor and cant afford classes) on breakdancing, and those should be coming in *gasp* tomorrow. How awesome. My body tingles with anticipation.
I wanna be a BGirl!
On Random News:
THIS is awesome.
So is THIS update on the UCLA taser "incident."
And THIS is just, well, damn interesting.
Life Notes: Bad in the beginning, but good in the end.
- I fell out of love today. It was quick, but not painless. Actually- it was quite the opposite. It hurt. A lot. I've only really been in love twice... I know I say I'm in love a lot, but I'm an expert exaggerater and usually when I say I'm in love I'm only infatuated. A few weeks later I've forgotten my infatuation because, most likely, it's been replaced by a new one.
This one was different. This one was LOVE.
When I got up in the morning I would think of him. I would dress carefully, and dress well (even comb my hair and put on makeup!), so that I could be the type of woman he would be attracted to. I started hobbies and gained more knowledge, so as to be an interesting person to be around. I HAD A LIFE, so that mine seemed more whole and appealing.
I made myself a better person. For him.
Every second of my day was lived for him. My future was worth planning- for him. I even *gasp* started seriously thinking about family and marriage. For him.
And then the bubble burst.
I can tell you when. I can probably even tell you how. What I can't tell you is why. It just happened. One minute I was in love, and the next minute there was a dark inside me that grew and grew until I could no longer breathe. My life before that moment suddenly became worthless, and my dreams for my life after were without warning violently erased.
I was left, gasping on the floor, with nothing to hold on to but my own empty shell.
to make matters worse:
- I had forgotten myself. Peter and I spent the night tonight discussing many things, most of which centered around religion. His girlfriend is extremely religious, and up until now he hasn't been too knowledgeable about anything of that field. To help him learn more she bought him a Bible for his birthday, and he brought it out to read me some proverbs that he found interesting... and hearing him read them made me very sad.
I remember when I used to care about being good.
When I was little I read all the time. If I didn't have a new book (which was often) I would re-read the books in my house. One of my favorite things to read was a big old brown book of stories for children dealing with morals and how to be a good person. The stories inside were fairytale-ish, so it didn't seem like preaching to me, but they always ended with a moral or lesson of some sort. Kind of like Aesop's Fables, where messages saying "One Good Thing Deserves Another" appeared at the end of each tale. I remember sitting on my bed, my lamp burning a hole in the dark, and thinking "I need to work harder on being truthful" or "I need to make sure I'm nicer to everyone." I was genuinely affected by this and would make an effort the next day to BE GOOD. Not be good at writing. Not be good at math. Be good AS A PERSON.
I had forgotten that. In my efforts to be cool, worldly, or "more adult" in college (and even now) I hid away something that was very important to me. My heros became rough necks with guns or loners who could kick ass. I confused my admiration for their self confidence (of which I had none myself) as an admiration for their character traits- i.e. she's cool because she says "Son of a bitch!" and carries a big stick. I despised being called innocent and naive and thought cursing and toughness would cure me of my 'illness'.
What I was really doing was disguising what made me me because I thought "Me" wasn't cutting it.
I was wrong. I have been too concerned about the wrong things. The outside things. My success as a person isn't measured by how many films I've done- it's measured by how many people I've helped. By how understanding I am towards someone who is having a bad day, or how honest I can be with the people around me.
I listened to Peter and I was sad. I used to be good, but now I have a long way to go.
*sigh*
Depressing, right? Weird, because today wasn't an all around bad day... actually it was very good. I was sick so I got to stay home, and I spent some quality time with my roomies. I also continued writing the children's book I've been working on.
Oh- BTW- I'm working on a children's book. I didn't tell you before because I thought being excited about it would jinx the whole thing and I would stop working on it after a week, but I've been pretty good. I've been writing almost every day. My self-imposed due date is the end of Jan/early Feb, and the illustrations will be done in June. I'm shooting for Christmas/early 2008 release.
You know- now that I think about it I'm actually pretty happy. Don't get me wrong- I ran to the store and ate a whole carton of soy ice cream after the 'out of love' thing (and will probably be silently depressed for quite some time), but as a whole I think I'm pretty ok.
I guess I'm so happy about writing that even a broken heart can't completely destroy my joy. Random. I can see why guys find girl emotions so confusing.
This one was different. This one was LOVE.
When I got up in the morning I would think of him. I would dress carefully, and dress well (even comb my hair and put on makeup!), so that I could be the type of woman he would be attracted to. I started hobbies and gained more knowledge, so as to be an interesting person to be around. I HAD A LIFE, so that mine seemed more whole and appealing.
I made myself a better person. For him.
Every second of my day was lived for him. My future was worth planning- for him. I even *gasp* started seriously thinking about family and marriage. For him.
And then the bubble burst.
I can tell you when. I can probably even tell you how. What I can't tell you is why. It just happened. One minute I was in love, and the next minute there was a dark inside me that grew and grew until I could no longer breathe. My life before that moment suddenly became worthless, and my dreams for my life after were without warning violently erased.
I was left, gasping on the floor, with nothing to hold on to but my own empty shell.
to make matters worse:
- I had forgotten myself. Peter and I spent the night tonight discussing many things, most of which centered around religion. His girlfriend is extremely religious, and up until now he hasn't been too knowledgeable about anything of that field. To help him learn more she bought him a Bible for his birthday, and he brought it out to read me some proverbs that he found interesting... and hearing him read them made me very sad.
I remember when I used to care about being good.
When I was little I read all the time. If I didn't have a new book (which was often) I would re-read the books in my house. One of my favorite things to read was a big old brown book of stories for children dealing with morals and how to be a good person. The stories inside were fairytale-ish, so it didn't seem like preaching to me, but they always ended with a moral or lesson of some sort. Kind of like Aesop's Fables, where messages saying "One Good Thing Deserves Another" appeared at the end of each tale. I remember sitting on my bed, my lamp burning a hole in the dark, and thinking "I need to work harder on being truthful" or "I need to make sure I'm nicer to everyone." I was genuinely affected by this and would make an effort the next day to BE GOOD. Not be good at writing. Not be good at math. Be good AS A PERSON.
I had forgotten that. In my efforts to be cool, worldly, or "more adult" in college (and even now) I hid away something that was very important to me. My heros became rough necks with guns or loners who could kick ass. I confused my admiration for their self confidence (of which I had none myself) as an admiration for their character traits- i.e. she's cool because she says "Son of a bitch!" and carries a big stick. I despised being called innocent and naive and thought cursing and toughness would cure me of my 'illness'.
What I was really doing was disguising what made me me because I thought "Me" wasn't cutting it.
I was wrong. I have been too concerned about the wrong things. The outside things. My success as a person isn't measured by how many films I've done- it's measured by how many people I've helped. By how understanding I am towards someone who is having a bad day, or how honest I can be with the people around me.
I listened to Peter and I was sad. I used to be good, but now I have a long way to go.
*sigh*
Depressing, right? Weird, because today wasn't an all around bad day... actually it was very good. I was sick so I got to stay home, and I spent some quality time with my roomies. I also continued writing the children's book I've been working on.
Oh- BTW- I'm working on a children's book. I didn't tell you before because I thought being excited about it would jinx the whole thing and I would stop working on it after a week, but I've been pretty good. I've been writing almost every day. My self-imposed due date is the end of Jan/early Feb, and the illustrations will be done in June. I'm shooting for Christmas/early 2008 release.
You know- now that I think about it I'm actually pretty happy. Don't get me wrong- I ran to the store and ate a whole carton of soy ice cream after the 'out of love' thing (and will probably be silently depressed for quite some time), but as a whole I think I'm pretty ok.
I guess I'm so happy about writing that even a broken heart can't completely destroy my joy. Random. I can see why guys find girl emotions so confusing.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Powers of Assumption
I was very awkward growing up, and any kind of public embarrasment would instill itself so solidly in my mind that even now- even though I'm a little more confident, a little more self assured- they still resonate through my life.
Take the case of Mrs. _____'s high school "distance learning" class. Sam Houston High School, being as it were very much ghetto, did get props for having access to high technology. I got to try my hand at 3D animation while I was there, as well as some semblance of neanderthalic film cameras.
I even got to be in their first ever Distance Learning experiment.
Distance Learning is, in all sense of the word, that. 2 classes from 2 different locations (for us, 2 classes at 2 different schools in the same school district) would share lessons via satellite by using strategically placed cameras & microphones at the head of each student's desk, wired to big screen TVs at the front of the classroom. A single teacher would then switch, spending a week at each school and transfering over the next week.
So any kind of public embarrasment to be had was- because fate is always funny- doubled.
I remember walking into class the second week of school. We had our first paper due and, being a thorough student, I had gone all out and put complete headings on mine, considering that every teacher that semester swore allegence to the 'headings' way of life. Mrs. ______ called roll and with each person's name we had to turn in our paper. My last name starts with a B, so I was ready when she called me first.
"What is this?" she asked, looking down at my masterpiece.
"It's my assignment." I said.
"This heading is all wrong. I need a cover page."
Floored, but for only a split second, I shrugged "whatever, ok", sounded an apology, and sat down. My thinking: So I made a mistake... her curriculum in no way stated "Essay Format Rules", but I'll do better next time. Oops.
Somewhere in my heart I like to fantasize that when Mrs. ______ was very little she was terrorized at night by the "Whatever Man." I have hopes that he hid in her closet and shocked her at all hours of the night with horrific images of post-pubescence shrugging off her every word. It is the only logical explanation to the look of disgust she proceeded to form on her face.
"Everyone take note of Ms. Berdin's attitude today." She said, making sure to frame the main classroom camera into a close up of my shocked face. "Don't think that you can turn in work however you want and I'll just be happy to get it."
Fury.
"What are you talking about?" I said.
"You did the assignment wrong, Ms. Berdin." A sea of faces, all familiar, turned towards me. A wave of new ones repeated the action on the big screen.
"How did I do it wrong? Because I didn't put a cover page? Every other teacher in this school
has format instructions for HEADINGS in their curriculum, and since you didn't I only assumed-"
Her hand went up. I stopped, and she strutted over to the magnetic board with the motion censor camera following her every move. In big letters, she jotted:
to ASSUME
makes an
ASS out of U and ME
And so goes my American high school education.
I am reminded of that episode because I spent some time watching the LA filipino channel today. I'm an idiot, and don't speak tagalog, but it was nice hearing the words so I kept the volume up real loud and pretended to understand. After a while I started to, and on one of their shows a roundtable discussion began about whether or not American-raised filipino kids were ruder than their homeland counterparts.
And a statement jumped out at me.
"In the Philippines, children are raised to assume. If a mother asks her son to take the clothes out of the dryer, it is assumed that the son will fold them and put them away. If a father is bringing groceries out of the car, it is assumed (by both parties) that the child will help.
In America, though, children are raised to be instructed. If a mother asks her son to take out the clothes, she must then instruct her son to fold them or he will not know he needs to do it. If the father does not ask for his child's help with the groceries, the child will not see a need to do so.
The conflict comes when Filipinos from the homeland bring values that their children are not exposed to here. A mother will think her son is rude for not folding the clothes, while the son will think his requested work is done and merely not understand why the mother is angry."
Validation.
I am not saying an American upbringing is wrong- I am American, and I at times fit into both molds from the examples above. I am very proud of the American in me (as much as I am of the Filipino), and idiotic sayings from ignorant teachers such as Mrs. _____ will not make me believe that all of America lacks the talent of assumption. But in MY upbringing I was raised to not need guidance when it comes to my work. My bosses have always praised me on the fact that I can pick up on problem areas at the office and start motions to getting them corrected- all without needing to be told- while others will wait for their instruction. It's an obvious thing to me where in others it might be alien, and apparently it's because of the culture that raised me.
And so the power that I hold, the power of assumption that got me public ridicule in Mrs. _____'s Distance Learning class all those years ago, is the same power that gives me praise and credibility in all the projects that I undertake now.
And now I don't look at that ridicule as a failure made by me, but as a triumph. I'm no longer embarrased.
I can't tell you anymore stories about our beloved Mrs. _____, because halfway through the semester I got fed up and dropped out of her class. Actually, I dropped out of school entirely, opting for my GED instead. It wasn't because of her- I don't want to flatter her in thinking my life was ruled by her snide remarks- but many other things put together (and THAT subject, analyzing the public school phenomena, wont be brought up here). Later, on my final visit to the school counselor to sign over my independence, in a last ditch effort to keep me afloat she dropped a folder in my lap.
"It's an invitation to meet the President of the United States. Only 2 students were picked out of our school to go this year, out of only 5 students in our district. You were one of them."
I said no thanks.
I was through with it, done with it all. I reasoned that sometime in my life I would be offered to meet more important people, and those could make up for the one I had to miss then. But, out of curiosity, I opened the folder. Inside were testimonials of my hard work, community efforts, and social respectability from teachers I knew and- surprisingly- teachers I had never met. A required 20 testimonials were needed for application submission to meet the President, and I had 32. Personally, I only knew 10 of the people whose letters lay in my hand. Everyone else had written with blind faith.
How's that for assumption?
Take the case of Mrs. _____'s high school "distance learning" class. Sam Houston High School, being as it were very much ghetto, did get props for having access to high technology. I got to try my hand at 3D animation while I was there, as well as some semblance of neanderthalic film cameras.
I even got to be in their first ever Distance Learning experiment.
Distance Learning is, in all sense of the word, that. 2 classes from 2 different locations (for us, 2 classes at 2 different schools in the same school district) would share lessons via satellite by using strategically placed cameras & microphones at the head of each student's desk, wired to big screen TVs at the front of the classroom. A single teacher would then switch, spending a week at each school and transfering over the next week.
So any kind of public embarrasment to be had was- because fate is always funny- doubled.
I remember walking into class the second week of school. We had our first paper due and, being a thorough student, I had gone all out and put complete headings on mine, considering that every teacher that semester swore allegence to the 'headings' way of life. Mrs. ______ called roll and with each person's name we had to turn in our paper. My last name starts with a B, so I was ready when she called me first.
"What is this?" she asked, looking down at my masterpiece.
"It's my assignment." I said.
"This heading is all wrong. I need a cover page."
Floored, but for only a split second, I shrugged "whatever, ok", sounded an apology, and sat down. My thinking: So I made a mistake... her curriculum in no way stated "Essay Format Rules", but I'll do better next time. Oops.
Somewhere in my heart I like to fantasize that when Mrs. ______ was very little she was terrorized at night by the "Whatever Man." I have hopes that he hid in her closet and shocked her at all hours of the night with horrific images of post-pubescence shrugging off her every word. It is the only logical explanation to the look of disgust she proceeded to form on her face.
"Everyone take note of Ms. Berdin's attitude today." She said, making sure to frame the main classroom camera into a close up of my shocked face. "Don't think that you can turn in work however you want and I'll just be happy to get it."
Fury.
"What are you talking about?" I said.
"You did the assignment wrong, Ms. Berdin." A sea of faces, all familiar, turned towards me. A wave of new ones repeated the action on the big screen.
"How did I do it wrong? Because I didn't put a cover page? Every other teacher in this school
has format instructions for HEADINGS in their curriculum, and since you didn't I only assumed-"
Her hand went up. I stopped, and she strutted over to the magnetic board with the motion censor camera following her every move. In big letters, she jotted:
to ASSUME
makes an
ASS out of U and ME
And so goes my American high school education.
I am reminded of that episode because I spent some time watching the LA filipino channel today. I'm an idiot, and don't speak tagalog, but it was nice hearing the words so I kept the volume up real loud and pretended to understand. After a while I started to, and on one of their shows a roundtable discussion began about whether or not American-raised filipino kids were ruder than their homeland counterparts.
And a statement jumped out at me.
"In the Philippines, children are raised to assume. If a mother asks her son to take the clothes out of the dryer, it is assumed that the son will fold them and put them away. If a father is bringing groceries out of the car, it is assumed (by both parties) that the child will help.
In America, though, children are raised to be instructed. If a mother asks her son to take out the clothes, she must then instruct her son to fold them or he will not know he needs to do it. If the father does not ask for his child's help with the groceries, the child will not see a need to do so.
The conflict comes when Filipinos from the homeland bring values that their children are not exposed to here. A mother will think her son is rude for not folding the clothes, while the son will think his requested work is done and merely not understand why the mother is angry."
Validation.
I am not saying an American upbringing is wrong- I am American, and I at times fit into both molds from the examples above. I am very proud of the American in me (as much as I am of the Filipino), and idiotic sayings from ignorant teachers such as Mrs. _____ will not make me believe that all of America lacks the talent of assumption. But in MY upbringing I was raised to not need guidance when it comes to my work. My bosses have always praised me on the fact that I can pick up on problem areas at the office and start motions to getting them corrected- all without needing to be told- while others will wait for their instruction. It's an obvious thing to me where in others it might be alien, and apparently it's because of the culture that raised me.
And so the power that I hold, the power of assumption that got me public ridicule in Mrs. _____'s Distance Learning class all those years ago, is the same power that gives me praise and credibility in all the projects that I undertake now.
And now I don't look at that ridicule as a failure made by me, but as a triumph. I'm no longer embarrased.
I can't tell you anymore stories about our beloved Mrs. _____, because halfway through the semester I got fed up and dropped out of her class. Actually, I dropped out of school entirely, opting for my GED instead. It wasn't because of her- I don't want to flatter her in thinking my life was ruled by her snide remarks- but many other things put together (and THAT subject, analyzing the public school phenomena, wont be brought up here). Later, on my final visit to the school counselor to sign over my independence, in a last ditch effort to keep me afloat she dropped a folder in my lap.
"It's an invitation to meet the President of the United States. Only 2 students were picked out of our school to go this year, out of only 5 students in our district. You were one of them."
I said no thanks.
I was through with it, done with it all. I reasoned that sometime in my life I would be offered to meet more important people, and those could make up for the one I had to miss then. But, out of curiosity, I opened the folder. Inside were testimonials of my hard work, community efforts, and social respectability from teachers I knew and- surprisingly- teachers I had never met. A required 20 testimonials were needed for application submission to meet the President, and I had 32. Personally, I only knew 10 of the people whose letters lay in my hand. Everyone else had written with blind faith.
How's that for assumption?
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Please God, Not another one
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Thursday, January 04, 2007
But you can dip your feet, every once and a little while
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
I've been typing, and subsequently erasing what I've typed, for the last 30 minutes. I want to find an eloquent way of describing how amazing my week at home was for the holidays, but there really is only one way I can put it.
I didn't want to leave.
It wasn't so much being in Texas (god love me if I insult Texas, but it's no LA), nor was it some amazing, unique adventure; or an exciting, exhilarating ride... it was just...
*sigh*
I dunno... how can I explain this where you'd understand?...
There's that moment- that split second- after you've fallen, or been punched, or sneezed too hard; that silent second in life when you are suddenly surrounded by brilliant bubbles of light. You "see stars". They swim through your vision in flickering flashes, and the more your try to focus on individual pieces the more the whole bunch allude your grasp.
And when you finally come to everything has disappeared and what is left is a little less of what you thought it was, because it can never be what you just saw.
... does that make any sense?
haha sorry :) I'll get to the pictures now...
THE UNVIELING!
Finally, people the world over get to experience the exquisite beauty that is Cameron Addison Byrd. Look at her folks... isn't she lovely? Actually... aren't ALL of my nieces lovely? I have a faint suspicion that they are the reason songs get sung.
And of course... they wouldn't be so great if it weren't for THE GREATEST FAMILY IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE. (Thanks Juan for the brilliant photography):
My family is amazing. I don't know if I ever mentioned before, but I was terrified of coming home because of how hard it would be to say no to all of the Filipino food I couldn't eat. But I didn't have to! My parents ROCK. They had tofu, and chicken and ham substitutes, and vegan takeout, and edible snacks- I probably ate more in that week then I have in a whole year. And it was nice being around them... I forgot how much I missed seeing them in front of me. I love you guys!
I think about 98.9% of my time was spent with my neices. No, I'm wrong... more like 99.9999999% (I forgot to include the EVERY WAKING MOMENT stuff in my last calculation.) I mostly spent it with Keianna, painting her room, building her trampoline, and being guardian extraordinare at Six Flags. I could complain (and I did) but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't some of the most fun I've ever had.
BTW, if my own Dad weren't already the Greatest Dad In Life I would say that Keianna had him. BK spent his whole Tuesday making that trampoline (in of itself a feat that should be included in Herculean definition). And get this: he did it while listening to Keianna's latest Disney pop CD on REPEAT.
Repeat, folks. THATS Herculean.
Side note: RIP Super NoHoVas. My beloved black and blue striped shoes got muddy during the building and Keianna and I placed them in the washing machine for a cleaning... only to find 6 miniature shoe parts after the first cycle was done.
A Moment of Silence.
Anywhoo... I realized lately that my poor camera hasn't been getting any play. I didn't take half as many pictures as I should have this year, but I guess that just proves how great a time I had. For instance, I had a blast during unwrapping time, but the only photos I took were after the fact, when my parents were inspecting theirs:
Daddy got a new digital camera (I expect to see more pictures now for you at home!) and Mommy got a foot massager (which she promptly returned the next day... hehe sorry Mommy).
My Christmas present? I got to spend some time with old (dear) friends. Christmas morning I went to the Meals on Wheels thingy I mentioned before- and guess who accompanied me? Juan!
Poor Juan... ignoring his advice, on one of our last deliveries I decided Mommy's minivan could handle the mud, and instead I expertly got stuck in it. Juan's so lovely, he got out to try and push, but the van didn't budge. Luckily our current Meals and Wheels recipient just happened to be a (?)retired(?) tow truck driver, and he helped us out of the hole.
I had so much fun during Meals on Wheels: I advise anyone interested to venture into that territory (especially if you have such an awesome friend with you). We were given two coolers (one with warm meals, another with milk and snacks) and a big box of gifts to hand out. Then they handed us a list of places to go and sent us on our way. It was great- and pretty heartwarming, since most of the people we delivered food to werent actually spending their Christmas alone.
Some were, though. :( And one lady asked us to come visit her later... I wish I remember where she lived...
Our last lady (Gloria?) was probably one of our first, but she didn't answer the door when we originally came so we went back. The tow truck guy took the last gift bag, milk & cookies (apparently we were short), so we stopped by a gas station and bought her a flower and some cookies. She was sweet too.
Juan spent Christmas day with us (his family celebrates it the night before). It was cool... after all the presents and stuff we went bowling/gaming at Main Event, and TRIED to play Ryan's Atari (we kept dying hehe).
I got to finally hang out with Chau, too... and she's one that I haven't seen in ages. Lucas, Chau and babies (can you believe that she has TWO?!) came up all the way from Austin to say hello. I had to stop myself from going back down with them. God. I remember meeting Chau in first grade (we bonded because we were the only people in class that read books for fun). She hasn't changed at all- she's still the same happy girl I've always loved (though no longer little, and no longer a girl).
I got to hang out with Bran and Dominic too... but I'm so dumb- I forgot to take pictures! Brandi has a new apartment in Lewisville that she shares with Kevin and Jared (I finally got to meet Jared), and it's really cute. Her dog- well, not so much... but that's ok :) Of all my friends from my Arlington life Brandi is the one I am closest with, and it showed the night I visited her. We didn't really do anything- we didn't have to. It was just nice being near each other again.
I'm coming back in July, for a month. I promise. I will be there for your wedding.
I also hung out with Dominic (albeit for only a couple hours). haha- good ol' Dominic. He's finishing college, and is gonna try for a master's degree in buisness. (He also says "Hi Angel & Bim!").
New Years was a blast too... Juan was nice enough to let me tag along with he and his sister (and her jolly good fellow boyfriend Matt- who is the most lovely "corpulent" man I've ever met hehe {not at all}). And I finally got to meet The Nephew! We'd heard about it all during college, and he's delicious! He reminds me of Lance and Cef when they were little and we would play Ninja Turtles on the stairs.
I miss hanging out with Juan. I miss hanging out with all of them: the brave few who came into my life and became my friends. Christmas and New Years made me realize that more than anything. I secluded myself a little too much last year... let's not do it again this time around.
...
Well... that's the bare bones of it. I'm reading it now and it's nothing like it was- what I wrote is just the skeletal remains of it. But that's ok- It's mine to have and bringing it out will only kill it more.
Resolutions:
Just one. Finish something.
I hope everyone had as great a time as I did. If you had half as much fun then that means you had the world.
I've been typing, and subsequently erasing what I've typed, for the last 30 minutes. I want to find an eloquent way of describing how amazing my week at home was for the holidays, but there really is only one way I can put it.
I didn't want to leave.
It wasn't so much being in Texas (god love me if I insult Texas, but it's no LA), nor was it some amazing, unique adventure; or an exciting, exhilarating ride... it was just...
*sigh*
I dunno... how can I explain this where you'd understand?...
There's that moment- that split second- after you've fallen, or been punched, or sneezed too hard; that silent second in life when you are suddenly surrounded by brilliant bubbles of light. You "see stars". They swim through your vision in flickering flashes, and the more your try to focus on individual pieces the more the whole bunch allude your grasp.
And when you finally come to everything has disappeared and what is left is a little less of what you thought it was, because it can never be what you just saw.
... does that make any sense?
haha sorry :) I'll get to the pictures now...
THE UNVIELING!
Finally, people the world over get to experience the exquisite beauty that is Cameron Addison Byrd. Look at her folks... isn't she lovely? Actually... aren't ALL of my nieces lovely? I have a faint suspicion that they are the reason songs get sung.
And of course... they wouldn't be so great if it weren't for THE GREATEST FAMILY IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE. (Thanks Juan for the brilliant photography):
My family is amazing. I don't know if I ever mentioned before, but I was terrified of coming home because of how hard it would be to say no to all of the Filipino food I couldn't eat. But I didn't have to! My parents ROCK. They had tofu, and chicken and ham substitutes, and vegan takeout, and edible snacks- I probably ate more in that week then I have in a whole year. And it was nice being around them... I forgot how much I missed seeing them in front of me. I love you guys!
I think about 98.9% of my time was spent with my neices. No, I'm wrong... more like 99.9999999% (I forgot to include the EVERY WAKING MOMENT stuff in my last calculation.) I mostly spent it with Keianna, painting her room, building her trampoline, and being guardian extraordinare at Six Flags. I could complain (and I did) but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't some of the most fun I've ever had.
BTW, if my own Dad weren't already the Greatest Dad In Life I would say that Keianna had him. BK spent his whole Tuesday making that trampoline (in of itself a feat that should be included in Herculean definition). And get this: he did it while listening to Keianna's latest Disney pop CD on REPEAT.
Repeat, folks. THATS Herculean.
Side note: RIP Super NoHoVas. My beloved black and blue striped shoes got muddy during the building and Keianna and I placed them in the washing machine for a cleaning... only to find 6 miniature shoe parts after the first cycle was done.
A Moment of Silence.
Anywhoo... I realized lately that my poor camera hasn't been getting any play. I didn't take half as many pictures as I should have this year, but I guess that just proves how great a time I had. For instance, I had a blast during unwrapping time, but the only photos I took were after the fact, when my parents were inspecting theirs:
Daddy got a new digital camera (I expect to see more pictures now for you at home!) and Mommy got a foot massager (which she promptly returned the next day... hehe sorry Mommy).
My Christmas present? I got to spend some time with old (dear) friends. Christmas morning I went to the Meals on Wheels thingy I mentioned before- and guess who accompanied me? Juan!
Poor Juan... ignoring his advice, on one of our last deliveries I decided Mommy's minivan could handle the mud, and instead I expertly got stuck in it. Juan's so lovely, he got out to try and push, but the van didn't budge. Luckily our current Meals and Wheels recipient just happened to be a (?)retired(?) tow truck driver, and he helped us out of the hole.
I had so much fun during Meals on Wheels: I advise anyone interested to venture into that territory (especially if you have such an awesome friend with you). We were given two coolers (one with warm meals, another with milk and snacks) and a big box of gifts to hand out. Then they handed us a list of places to go and sent us on our way. It was great- and pretty heartwarming, since most of the people we delivered food to werent actually spending their Christmas alone.
Some were, though. :( And one lady asked us to come visit her later... I wish I remember where she lived...
Our last lady (Gloria?) was probably one of our first, but she didn't answer the door when we originally came so we went back. The tow truck guy took the last gift bag, milk & cookies (apparently we were short), so we stopped by a gas station and bought her a flower and some cookies. She was sweet too.
Juan spent Christmas day with us (his family celebrates it the night before). It was cool... after all the presents and stuff we went bowling/gaming at Main Event, and TRIED to play Ryan's Atari (we kept dying hehe).
I got to finally hang out with Chau, too... and she's one that I haven't seen in ages. Lucas, Chau and babies (can you believe that she has TWO?!) came up all the way from Austin to say hello. I had to stop myself from going back down with them. God. I remember meeting Chau in first grade (we bonded because we were the only people in class that read books for fun). She hasn't changed at all- she's still the same happy girl I've always loved (though no longer little, and no longer a girl).
I got to hang out with Bran and Dominic too... but I'm so dumb- I forgot to take pictures! Brandi has a new apartment in Lewisville that she shares with Kevin and Jared (I finally got to meet Jared), and it's really cute. Her dog- well, not so much... but that's ok :) Of all my friends from my Arlington life Brandi is the one I am closest with, and it showed the night I visited her. We didn't really do anything- we didn't have to. It was just nice being near each other again.
I'm coming back in July, for a month. I promise. I will be there for your wedding.
I also hung out with Dominic (albeit for only a couple hours). haha- good ol' Dominic. He's finishing college, and is gonna try for a master's degree in buisness. (He also says "Hi Angel & Bim!").
New Years was a blast too... Juan was nice enough to let me tag along with he and his sister (and her jolly good fellow boyfriend Matt- who is the most lovely "corpulent" man I've ever met hehe {not at all}). And I finally got to meet The Nephew! We'd heard about it all during college, and he's delicious! He reminds me of Lance and Cef when they were little and we would play Ninja Turtles on the stairs.
I miss hanging out with Juan. I miss hanging out with all of them: the brave few who came into my life and became my friends. Christmas and New Years made me realize that more than anything. I secluded myself a little too much last year... let's not do it again this time around.
...
Well... that's the bare bones of it. I'm reading it now and it's nothing like it was- what I wrote is just the skeletal remains of it. But that's ok- It's mine to have and bringing it out will only kill it more.
Resolutions:
Just one. Finish something.
I hope everyone had as great a time as I did. If you had half as much fun then that means you had the world.
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