I have spent my life believing that people didn't matter. I spent my life believing that I was the only one that mattered, and that the opinion of other people was irrelevant. That was until about about three years ago. That was when I realised that I had been living my life in a way that had held me back. So I began a process of change, I began the process that would allow me to live a different life. During that time I didn't always feel like I was being true to myself. I sometimes felt like I was becoming someone I wouldn't ultimately be proud of. I always envied people who lived life a little more connected, more willing to be apart of the crowd rather than live in the corner. I thought I was more myself being sheltered, and true to who I was being focused on myself. So I made a decided change. A while ago I felt like I had moved forward, and was becoming a better person. Someone who lived more in the world like it was meant to be rather than hiding away.
So here I am today, after three years of hard self improvement, and let me give you a report on how rewarding changing your life is at times. It turns out my initial feelings about people were often correct. That people who are your friends are often only friendly because it's convenient. That living with people in your life is loud and inconvenient, and often after you've made an effort they read into your intentions and misconstrue your intent. Life is messy and honesty is unappreciated and not appreciated beyond what you are probably prepared for. Feelings are better when they are minimal and irrelevant.
Yes, some people are true. Some people are genuinely good. But when you are out in the world, the few are often fogged out by the many. Having your heart broken even in small ways is a common occurrence, and no, people don't always mean it, but without the shield up it happens often. So is it all bad? Is it better to live in silence than hear the greatest symphony ever written once and never again? Are people that lie and leave, better or more true than the ones who try not to lie, but are forced to stay due to obligation?
I am better as a thief, but I no longer want to steal. I am a murderer who has never killed and doesn't want to. This is purgatory and revelation, resolve covered in doubt. I have too many questions about human nature, and always have, but does that mean my decision to change was wrong? I am honest and overly sensitive. I used to be the best liar in the world. The change is too extreme. The debt is too large to pay, and the income will never match the expenditure. I would ask opinions, but I don't get any. I get what I always do - the echo of my own voice into the void, and there is no right answer.
Friday 2 December 2011
Wednesday 16 November 2011
Lou and Louis Guzman Get Married
I don't have to look very far to get inspiration from people in my life. Perfect example being my Sister-in-law. Someone who started her life over. I won't go into detail as I don't really have any, and it isn't my story to tell, but there was a point in her life when she could have made some decisions differently. She could have made things easy. Is 'easy' the word? Probably not. Maybe I can say that she could have accepted that life wasn't exactly as she wanted it, and then did as most of us do and settled for what she had.
What I do know is that she made some very brave choices. Decisions I don't think I could have made in my life. Basically, she wanted something for herself, and she decided to go and get it. Linda and I are very different people. A couple of times we lived together. My wife, her sister, and the ever crotchety quiet man. We shared rent, and tried not to kill each other for small periods of time. Now, we surely have things we do which drive each other crazy, but at the end of the day I think we love each other. I know I love her. I am ever impressed with her abilities as a person, and a mother.
Now I did play a rather key role in this life she has attained for herself. As much as Linda likes to give credit for her meeting Mark (her husband) to my wife. Let me dispel that myth. It has very little to do with Susanne and everything to do with me. I have an uncanny ability to tell good people from bad almost instantly. On a particular night sitting across from a guy I didn't know, at a work function which was not mine (It was Susanne's). Linda showed up (this is the Coles Notes version obviously) said she couldn't meet any good guys. I told her she didn't want to meet good guys, she fit the profile of a young single female, which meant she wanted to meet guys that would treat her like shit, and what she really wanted was a guy to follow around like a puppy dog. Now I know that's harsh, but I was drinking (oldest excuse in the world I know) and I barely filter what I say at the best of times, and when I drink the filter gets turned off. She took offense to this of course, and was adamant that she wanted to meet a nice guy. So I pointed across the table and said 'there is a nice guy, go meet him'. And she did.
Now she has most of what I think she wants out of life. I am sure there is a great deal more I am missing, but this is a blog and not a biography, so if you want to know the rest, then become her friend and stop nosing around. Just kidding.
The point is, two days ago a very lucky little girl was born into a very good home, to two very good people. Their life inspires others, just as all of our lives do. I realize more and more that the things we say and do as individuals ripple into the universe. Be the best version of yourself that you can be, and those actions inspire others. They really do, even if you don't realize it. I often feel that responsibility prevents me from following a dream. Trying not to get in your own way on the path to your goal is diificult at the best of times, and making brave decisions at the right time is the only real way forward that won't lead to regret. That is advise I've had trouble dealing with. The things we want often don't seem to mesh with the place we are in, but if you take Linda's example, then one day you too could be in the place you want to be, surrounded by the people you most want to be with. If only we could all live by the example of others.
I do take credit for everything they have. Quite simply it is my greatness that built everything they have. Obviously, I am kidding. I just look back on these two really great people that found their way into each other's lives, and feel good that I said something, as often I am apt to keep things to myself. At least at this point in my life, what I said, was completely out of character. Today, not so much. Maybe Linda making her first steps to a different life at that time, began the creation of the monster known as ME. I had actually never made that connection until this moment, but watching her become who she is, has certainly helped to make me who I am today. Now if we could only determine if that change was a good thing...
What I do know is that she made some very brave choices. Decisions I don't think I could have made in my life. Basically, she wanted something for herself, and she decided to go and get it. Linda and I are very different people. A couple of times we lived together. My wife, her sister, and the ever crotchety quiet man. We shared rent, and tried not to kill each other for small periods of time. Now, we surely have things we do which drive each other crazy, but at the end of the day I think we love each other. I know I love her. I am ever impressed with her abilities as a person, and a mother.
Now I did play a rather key role in this life she has attained for herself. As much as Linda likes to give credit for her meeting Mark (her husband) to my wife. Let me dispel that myth. It has very little to do with Susanne and everything to do with me. I have an uncanny ability to tell good people from bad almost instantly. On a particular night sitting across from a guy I didn't know, at a work function which was not mine (It was Susanne's). Linda showed up (this is the Coles Notes version obviously) said she couldn't meet any good guys. I told her she didn't want to meet good guys, she fit the profile of a young single female, which meant she wanted to meet guys that would treat her like shit, and what she really wanted was a guy to follow around like a puppy dog. Now I know that's harsh, but I was drinking (oldest excuse in the world I know) and I barely filter what I say at the best of times, and when I drink the filter gets turned off. She took offense to this of course, and was adamant that she wanted to meet a nice guy. So I pointed across the table and said 'there is a nice guy, go meet him'. And she did.
Now she has most of what I think she wants out of life. I am sure there is a great deal more I am missing, but this is a blog and not a biography, so if you want to know the rest, then become her friend and stop nosing around. Just kidding.
The point is, two days ago a very lucky little girl was born into a very good home, to two very good people. Their life inspires others, just as all of our lives do. I realize more and more that the things we say and do as individuals ripple into the universe. Be the best version of yourself that you can be, and those actions inspire others. They really do, even if you don't realize it. I often feel that responsibility prevents me from following a dream. Trying not to get in your own way on the path to your goal is diificult at the best of times, and making brave decisions at the right time is the only real way forward that won't lead to regret. That is advise I've had trouble dealing with. The things we want often don't seem to mesh with the place we are in, but if you take Linda's example, then one day you too could be in the place you want to be, surrounded by the people you most want to be with. If only we could all live by the example of others.
I do take credit for everything they have. Quite simply it is my greatness that built everything they have. Obviously, I am kidding. I just look back on these two really great people that found their way into each other's lives, and feel good that I said something, as often I am apt to keep things to myself. At least at this point in my life, what I said, was completely out of character. Today, not so much. Maybe Linda making her first steps to a different life at that time, began the creation of the monster known as ME. I had actually never made that connection until this moment, but watching her become who she is, has certainly helped to make me who I am today. Now if we could only determine if that change was a good thing...
Tuesday 1 November 2011
Razor Blades and Glue Sticks
I have started to discover my friends are worried about me. Well... The normal ones are. The ones who can't believe anyone would put personal stuff out there for the world to see. And believe me I can understand that, but there are two things you all need to know. First, everything here is real, and as many of you who get to spend time with me know, I haven't written anything here, that I haven't said out loud at some point. Secondly, I am a writer, and I often say things for dramatic affect. Don't get me wrong, I mean it. But as my wife tells me all the time, I embellish everything. Metaphorically speaking I sing the contents of the phone book, rather than just say the names out loud. I read the Sunday Times using the voice of Kermit D Frog. You need to take me with a grain of salt sometimes. The core of what I am saying, the root of it, is completely true, but the words are dressed up like drag queens at a gay pride parade.
I have an ever growing group of Favorite People. It's a list I keep in my head, and the list changes. As some of you know my life is about to change in a very big way. I am leaving a job I have long loved (and recently more-or-less hated) for something new. It's a great opportunity for me. I struggled with it for the past few months. I have four people I work with who keep me sane, make my life easy, and let me talk nonsense and make a fool of myself everyday. I have a team of people who I have long felt a kinship with that goes beyond anything I have ever experienced. Leaving this behind guts me to the core and leaves me bleeding.
I have felt protective and proud, laughed uncontrollably and commiserated, and worked beside the best people you could hope for. Initially, I didn't want to leave because I thought it would all collapse without me, but eventually I realized how arrogant that was. The truth is I have taught these guys everything I know, and they have taught me right back. We grew together as people and fought the good fight for a common goal. Now I have nothing left, and in fact with me removed these guys will go to the next level. They need me to go so they can learn even more. Sometimes growth has to hurt a little first. I suppose you can make the argument that I am telling myself this just to make myself feel better, and I see your point. I thought of that too, but it's not the case.
I will always have a relationship with these guys. We will still play poker, we will still have dinner, we will always be friends, and I will always be there for anyone of them. We just won't work together anymore. I don't have kids, but I imagine this sadness mixed with other emotions is sort of like sending your kid off to kindergarten for the first time. All those emotions of fear, excitement, and sadness cutting you to the core, and making you take the next step in life whether you want to or not. The kid will obviously be fine, but as a parent you want to throw yourself down, and demand that time stop. You want to be protective and shelter your child from possibility they may get hurt, and then reality slaps you awake again. You realize - that for the child you love so much to grow - you have to let them go. There comes a time when holding on only smothers the ones we love. I honestly think this is the case here.
I hope that as time goes by I will be remembered as fondly as I will remember them. I hope they feel like I was a good boss, and an even better coworker. I have been honoured and privileged to work along side these guys for more than 7 years. I have fought and struggled against the decision to leave, but at the end of the day if you cut yourself open with a razor blade - you can't fix it with a glue stick.
How's that for drag queens at a gay pride parade???
I have an ever growing group of Favorite People. It's a list I keep in my head, and the list changes. As some of you know my life is about to change in a very big way. I am leaving a job I have long loved (and recently more-or-less hated) for something new. It's a great opportunity for me. I struggled with it for the past few months. I have four people I work with who keep me sane, make my life easy, and let me talk nonsense and make a fool of myself everyday. I have a team of people who I have long felt a kinship with that goes beyond anything I have ever experienced. Leaving this behind guts me to the core and leaves me bleeding.
I have felt protective and proud, laughed uncontrollably and commiserated, and worked beside the best people you could hope for. Initially, I didn't want to leave because I thought it would all collapse without me, but eventually I realized how arrogant that was. The truth is I have taught these guys everything I know, and they have taught me right back. We grew together as people and fought the good fight for a common goal. Now I have nothing left, and in fact with me removed these guys will go to the next level. They need me to go so they can learn even more. Sometimes growth has to hurt a little first. I suppose you can make the argument that I am telling myself this just to make myself feel better, and I see your point. I thought of that too, but it's not the case.
I will always have a relationship with these guys. We will still play poker, we will still have dinner, we will always be friends, and I will always be there for anyone of them. We just won't work together anymore. I don't have kids, but I imagine this sadness mixed with other emotions is sort of like sending your kid off to kindergarten for the first time. All those emotions of fear, excitement, and sadness cutting you to the core, and making you take the next step in life whether you want to or not. The kid will obviously be fine, but as a parent you want to throw yourself down, and demand that time stop. You want to be protective and shelter your child from possibility they may get hurt, and then reality slaps you awake again. You realize - that for the child you love so much to grow - you have to let them go. There comes a time when holding on only smothers the ones we love. I honestly think this is the case here.
I hope that as time goes by I will be remembered as fondly as I will remember them. I hope they feel like I was a good boss, and an even better coworker. I have been honoured and privileged to work along side these guys for more than 7 years. I have fought and struggled against the decision to leave, but at the end of the day if you cut yourself open with a razor blade - you can't fix it with a glue stick.
How's that for drag queens at a gay pride parade???
Sunday 23 October 2011
Vegas, the dirty underworld told by a repentant man in flannel
I sit in my underwear with little to say. OK, I don't wear underwear. I have to confess to you all that I did to go Vegas. We all know the line which forbids me from uttering what I am about to, but if I were a man of faith, which I am not, and you were my Priest, which you are not, and we were sitting in a little booth... I would have to tell you everything, and then you could judge me, tell me what to do, and I would be free from my mistakes and misgivings. No, I am not making fun of religions. I guess I need to state that as we all know how the entire world seems to have lost their sense of humour about pretty much everything.
So Bless me Anonymous Internet Person for I have sinned... I went to Las Vegas to get rich, and stake my claim on the world. Instead, I took a handicap room (mostly by accident), lost almost everything, had a random person lick my face, and gave money away to people I don't know. I didn't lose money, I actually gave it away as I won it. I consumed alcohol at a startling rate, and actually was so drunk at one point I got lost in a casino, and couldn't find my way out. I ate way too much, golfed horribly, and had a great time overall. Being as I am old and boring that is about it. The only vow I broke was the one about getting rich and staking my claim on the world. Overall, job well done. The face licking thing haunts me, and generally makes me feel ill. Although, I do believe the person who licked my face, whom I do not know or remember her name, posted it on her Facebook. If you know who she is, or have seen the video/picture, please tell her EW!
Halloween Party Mark I was a great success. We will be doing again next year - so those of you who missed it will get a second chance. As for Hall and Oates, well they were a great disappointment to all who looked forward to meeting them. They kept asking the male guests if 'that was a sock in their pants or if the guy was just happy to see them'. They drank to excess, and had to be carried into their limo at the end of the night. They didn't perform, and signed only 2 autographs the entire night.
I am working on writing something on the fiction front as I promised last week. However, the two ideas I started were actually too good to give away for free on the Internet so please standby. I have too much raw stuff going on in my brain to go any further on the personal front. Good thing I am invisible. Lord knows no one wants to see a middle aged guy, crying, typing his life story/life issues in his underwear (Reminder: I don't wear underwear). Oooohhh the perfect over share beginning gets retread with a perfect over share ending...
So Bless me Anonymous Internet Person for I have sinned... I went to Las Vegas to get rich, and stake my claim on the world. Instead, I took a handicap room (mostly by accident), lost almost everything, had a random person lick my face, and gave money away to people I don't know. I didn't lose money, I actually gave it away as I won it. I consumed alcohol at a startling rate, and actually was so drunk at one point I got lost in a casino, and couldn't find my way out. I ate way too much, golfed horribly, and had a great time overall. Being as I am old and boring that is about it. The only vow I broke was the one about getting rich and staking my claim on the world. Overall, job well done. The face licking thing haunts me, and generally makes me feel ill. Although, I do believe the person who licked my face, whom I do not know or remember her name, posted it on her Facebook. If you know who she is, or have seen the video/picture, please tell her EW!
Halloween Party Mark I was a great success. We will be doing again next year - so those of you who missed it will get a second chance. As for Hall and Oates, well they were a great disappointment to all who looked forward to meeting them. They kept asking the male guests if 'that was a sock in their pants or if the guy was just happy to see them'. They drank to excess, and had to be carried into their limo at the end of the night. They didn't perform, and signed only 2 autographs the entire night.
I am working on writing something on the fiction front as I promised last week. However, the two ideas I started were actually too good to give away for free on the Internet so please standby. I have too much raw stuff going on in my brain to go any further on the personal front. Good thing I am invisible. Lord knows no one wants to see a middle aged guy, crying, typing his life story/life issues in his underwear (Reminder: I don't wear underwear). Oooohhh the perfect over share beginning gets retread with a perfect over share ending...
Friday 14 October 2011
Face Tattoos and Elder Folk
I have nothing to say that can lead to any good. There is a stillness where I stand, and yet everything in my life is moving. Any attempt I make at a comment could end up looking premature or foolish. So what am I writing? I get asked if 'I am writing something new soon' quite often. It nice to have people follow you, but the dangers of expressing true free thought do tend to catch up to you from time to time. So what do you do? Do you edit your true feelings? What if people who know you professionally, but not personally stumble on your inner thoughts? I suppose the slight anonymity I have created with a pen name helps, but that is a pretty flimsy shield in the world of Facebook. I'll have you know that I haven't pulled any punches in these posts. Some of them are a little too close to home, and that hasn't come without a price at times.
I suppose I don't have anything to hide, but maybe I will one day. Maybe I do now, but I just don't realize it yet. I don't want to run away from what I have started here, but it is daunting to release your true life stories, unedited into the void. Especially, when you have an underused talent as a writer of fiction and a driving whim to create absolutely anything. When you craft words they can sting, they can emote, they can also exaggerate, and outright lie. I can't imagine any of that can be good for a person's long term outlook. So what do you do? Do you go all Rolling Stones and spill your blood all over the stage cause it's only Rock N Roll, or do you retreat to the "normal" world and stay silent?
I had a long conversation about being "normal" today. I suppose I am normal (now that stings). I have sought a life of control, and had a distaste for chaos. Turns out that was a huge mistake in my life. The safe road is boring, and now I'm old and stuck (how's that for honesty). I don't intend on staying that way. I have been quietly chipping away at the bedrock I have created underneath myself. I am now about to blossom into a beautiful butterfly (don't ask me how). Basically, I refuse to undervalue myself ever again. That may be an innocuous statement, but it is a motto I intend to live by and just today I put it into action. If it means compromising to move forward then I am going to stay still. No more accepting the normal or the safe road. I am going to tattoo my face, stop driving and take a pogo stick to work singing It's My Party and I'll cry If I Want To, all the way to work. Except in winter so that last bits on hold until June (coward). But the face tattoo that is going to happen. Maybe a butterfly....
I have been thinking that I could post a weekly running story of some kind. Like the serial fiction newspapers used to publish. Take Sherlock Holmes as an example, except mine would have no crime solving or excitement, just random fictional characters with huge personality flaws and anxiety. Sounds delicious I know. Let me know your thoughts. If you want to read it - I will write it weekly or more if I can. Why go through all the trouble of selling something when you can give it away for free?
I suppose I don't have anything to hide, but maybe I will one day. Maybe I do now, but I just don't realize it yet. I don't want to run away from what I have started here, but it is daunting to release your true life stories, unedited into the void. Especially, when you have an underused talent as a writer of fiction and a driving whim to create absolutely anything. When you craft words they can sting, they can emote, they can also exaggerate, and outright lie. I can't imagine any of that can be good for a person's long term outlook. So what do you do? Do you go all Rolling Stones and spill your blood all over the stage cause it's only Rock N Roll, or do you retreat to the "normal" world and stay silent?
I had a long conversation about being "normal" today. I suppose I am normal (now that stings). I have sought a life of control, and had a distaste for chaos. Turns out that was a huge mistake in my life. The safe road is boring, and now I'm old and stuck (how's that for honesty). I don't intend on staying that way. I have been quietly chipping away at the bedrock I have created underneath myself. I am now about to blossom into a beautiful butterfly (don't ask me how). Basically, I refuse to undervalue myself ever again. That may be an innocuous statement, but it is a motto I intend to live by and just today I put it into action. If it means compromising to move forward then I am going to stay still. No more accepting the normal or the safe road. I am going to tattoo my face, stop driving and take a pogo stick to work singing It's My Party and I'll cry If I Want To, all the way to work. Except in winter so that last bits on hold until June (coward). But the face tattoo that is going to happen. Maybe a butterfly....
I have been thinking that I could post a weekly running story of some kind. Like the serial fiction newspapers used to publish. Take Sherlock Holmes as an example, except mine would have no crime solving or excitement, just random fictional characters with huge personality flaws and anxiety. Sounds delicious I know. Let me know your thoughts. If you want to read it - I will write it weekly or more if I can. Why go through all the trouble of selling something when you can give it away for free?
Friday 2 September 2011
The never ending lure of the fetal position
What I have come to realize is that living a life completely free of regret is basically impossible. I am sure there are people far more clever than I am, and much younger, who have been perhaps reading my posts and screaming this simple message at me through their computers. The fact of the matter is, out of the 6 billion people on earth, I would imagine that only a handful would get to the end of their lives and think ‘I did everything right. I could not possibly have done anything different’. It is ridiculous to think a person who really lives their life could have no regrets. Well I am an idiot, and I have been regretting the fact that I have many regrets.
I realize that many of you may be growing tired of these posts with their tiny revelations (to me these are often full out bomb blasts of unseen reality, scary isn’t it). All I can say is sorry, and you have full permission to stop reading. Turn it off for the love of God. I get it. I just need to keep plugging away. How I’ve gone from someone who lived secretly hiding in the shadows and slowly gaining weight. Successfully hiding away I might add until I reached hermit status and 320 pounds. Fast forward to a man with a website, a book half done (and not bad), and a guy who posts the intimate details of his life for the world to see is staggering to me. I’ve accomplished goals (small ones) and in doing so have set astronomical future goals. In creating this vision I dealt myself an uppercut beyond anything I have felt before. The weight of the world now resting full force on my shoulders (self-inflicted) I have been stumbling around. Still, the man I was 3 years ago is gone. He actually hardly exists anymore save for the ability to think nothing I’ve done is good enough.
Now this has been hard on me. Its been a series of very high points and very low points, but the man I am now is very different. It’s taken me the same amount of time to realize that the person this has been hardest on is not me. Imagine living with someone for seventeen years and for fourteen of those years you knew the person well, and then three years later that person was gone. The man or woman you lived with and loved is just gone. What if you don’t like the new person? What if the new person doesn’t like you? What if you don’t know how to ask? What if you really don’t want to know the answer?
So here is this sweet, wonderful, lovely woman standing by, being supportive, conjuring a smile of encouragement, wondering the whole time who the hell is this guy? What happened to the guy who hated people and sat in a crowd quietly with little to say? How do I handle a person who was happy being himself, A man who was comfortable in his own skin, and now here is this over grown child frustrated by everything he has built? It must be incredibly difficult.
I guess all relationships go through their growing pains. There are people who manage to stay the same throughout their lives, and there are people who change at varying speeds. I would like to talk to some couples that have managed to weather the storms. Mostly, I would like to point out that the person I am lucky enough to be married to has been incredibly understanding. She is honest and true to her word, and she is kind and loving. There are no guarantees that she will want to be with me forever. As she is the first to point out - things change and you just never know. What I can say for sure is that I am 37 and for almost half my life I have been privileged to be with someone who loved me, and there is no one who could call that into question. The part that remains to be seen as always is where the future will take us. I can’t stop the changes. I don’t want to be that person who is stuck and afraid of life anymore. Perhaps that is a harsh evaluation of my former self, but looking back that is what it feels like.
Still, five years ago I would have told you I had everything. I would have told you that I didn’t want anything to change, and those words would have been 100% true. Today, I would say that I have everything, and I can’t see it staying the same. I don’t know what that means exactly. I just know that as things keep moving forward when I ask my wife if she still likes me, I just hope the answer is yes. I also know that there is a very good chance, due to the fact that I have changed so very much, the answer just might be no.
Whatever she decides I can honestly say that when it comes to my wife there are no regrets. She is crazy and loveable, she is head strong and honest, she has been my best friend for seventeen years and that time cannot be erased. We have built a wonderful life - that we quite frankly discussed tearing down brick by brick just yesterday. If she told me today that she couldn't be with me, it would hurt like hell, but it would be forever and always the best part of my life. Doesn't matter how much you can take life on the chin, sometimes you end up in the fetal position waiting for the pain to go away.
Wednesday 31 August 2011
Dip me in chocolate and eat me
I don't do anything without music. I write, I paint, I dabble, I drive, I deliberate, I annoy people, everything I do I set to music. I have decided to set my midlife crisis to music as well. I haven't set the exact soundtrack yet. I figure I have time as I haven't grown the disgusting moustache yet. I don't have any money so I can't buy a sports car. Unfortunately, on that front, I may settle for a really bitchin' model of an Audi TT convertible and pretend I'm not a total loser while I sit on the end of my bed making vroom vroom noises out loud pretending I'm behind the wheel.
Yes, it is early spring in the life cycle of my midlife crisis. I am off to a horrible start really. No money for a car, and I love my wife and can't imagine having an affair. I am far too ugly to pull it off anyway. God, I hate being so predictable. There is nothing I hate more than being just like everyone else. This is just like a man who has everything including the luxury of sitting back and over analyzing his life wondering why you made the choices you have. Wondering why you didn't follow through on doing the things you really wanted to with your life. How do you stop it? It must end on it's own. For me all this thinking is just about work. The crisis is my way of pushing myself to do more, try harder, make something more of myself.
What else is there to this thing anyway? Besides the unattractive facial hair (which I refuse to grow because I may get food in it - see last post), the young bimbo (no thanks), and the car. What else is there? I think I am going to sculpt something. And instead of doing it out of marble or something complicated I have decided to sculpt my image in chocolate. I like chocolate, and in the past three months my new favorite thing to do is tell people to "eat me". If I pull this off I can toss the person a candy version of myself. Besides, my wife loves chocolate and after she reads about the midlife crisis and the bimbos (which for the record I said 'no thanks') it may be the only thing that keeps her from punching me in the face. She can eat my chocolate face. Any one else want to eat me in chocolate?
Yes, it is early spring in the life cycle of my midlife crisis. I am off to a horrible start really. No money for a car, and I love my wife and can't imagine having an affair. I am far too ugly to pull it off anyway. God, I hate being so predictable. There is nothing I hate more than being just like everyone else. This is just like a man who has everything including the luxury of sitting back and over analyzing his life wondering why you made the choices you have. Wondering why you didn't follow through on doing the things you really wanted to with your life. How do you stop it? It must end on it's own. For me all this thinking is just about work. The crisis is my way of pushing myself to do more, try harder, make something more of myself.
What else is there to this thing anyway? Besides the unattractive facial hair (which I refuse to grow because I may get food in it - see last post), the young bimbo (no thanks), and the car. What else is there? I think I am going to sculpt something. And instead of doing it out of marble or something complicated I have decided to sculpt my image in chocolate. I like chocolate, and in the past three months my new favorite thing to do is tell people to "eat me". If I pull this off I can toss the person a candy version of myself. Besides, my wife loves chocolate and after she reads about the midlife crisis and the bimbos (which for the record I said 'no thanks') it may be the only thing that keeps her from punching me in the face. She can eat my chocolate face. Any one else want to eat me in chocolate?
Friday 12 August 2011
Bodily Fluids, Vomit, and Other unclean Stories.
I have had the same editor for 17 years. Sue has been the voice in my head for as long as I can remember. We worked together at one point in our lives, and she continuously corrected me. I used to write long winded emails full of grammatical errors and run on sentences. I think I was about 20 at the time. I remember being frustrated because the hilarity of what I was writing (in my mind) far out weighed the fact that there were things wrong with the structure. So why she needed to point out my mistakes, forsaking my greatness, was a severe slap in the face. I mean I was a bloody genius. Who cared that there were spelling mistakes, or who really cared that I was in the work place and should have been working rather than dubbing myself the 'King of Coffee Land' and belittling people (including the owner of the company) using the company directory to tell everyone off for taking the last cup of coffee and not making more. Since that job I quite often still get bored and create emails that are generally not very constructive which highlight the faults of my co-workers. I have also used my meager writing skills to tell off a supplier or two (or a hundred-ish). When you slowly become mentally ill the sickness in your head tends to spill out and infect everyone around you. It's like a leaking tap you just can shut off.
This will be the first book of mine that Sue has edited (she doesn't edit my blog so don't blame her for my mistakes). She is very particular which is a nice way of saying she is a pain in the ass. Still, when I was young and rambunctious and the words that flowed from me had sharp edges, she helped me to realize that style meant just as much as meaning. For the past ten years I haven't given Sue anything to edit. Life ticks on and I got lazy, but today is not yesterday and I hope in the future she will continue to point out my flaws, I will continue to get my hackles up from time to time, and in the end she will be right and everything I do will be better because she was there to help.
Sue is the voice in my head. The teacher standing over me tsk-ing away, and I thank her for it. I am still not a great writer, I still don't have the elements of style down. I just know I can rely on the voice in my head, the lady with the booming voice and the kind heart to shove my inconsistencies and errors in my face. Don't get me wrong, she is very nice about it. She pushes me to be better where often those that know me are just very kind. When someone in your life has the balls (sorry Sue poor illustration) to tell you when you're wrong because they want to see you succeed, you can wilt or brace yourself. If you can take the knocks to the ego you come out the other side a much better writer/person.
Now I need to satisfy the other editor in my life, that being my wife. God knows that the last hundred words were somehow depressing in a way I can't see. Every time I write a blog I envision thousands (OK 10 or 15) people weeping and tearing their hair in sorrow based on my wife's reaction (notice how well I take criticism).
I feel like the unassuming comedian out for dinner and someone wants him to 'be funny' or 'tell a joke'. As I have sat here trying to think of a joke that would hopefully satisfy my quota, I have come up blank. So instead of telling a joke let me tell you something about myself that most people find funny.
I don't like seeing food on people's faces. You know those commercials where a fast food joint decides that some dude with burger seeping out of his mouth will somehow entice the world to buy their junk food. I would honestly like to know who thinks this is appetizing. The entire situation makes me want to throw up. Someone asked me last week if my disgust for things on peoples faces extends beyond food. After very little consideration the answer is yes. If you would like a list of things I find repulsive then include spit, and anything involving children being dirty, soiled, or unclean. In fact, if you ever need to torture me you don't need pins under my finger nails, you simply need to spit on my face, wait ten seconds, and I will tell you anything you want to know.
This will be the first book of mine that Sue has edited (she doesn't edit my blog so don't blame her for my mistakes). She is very particular which is a nice way of saying she is a pain in the ass. Still, when I was young and rambunctious and the words that flowed from me had sharp edges, she helped me to realize that style meant just as much as meaning. For the past ten years I haven't given Sue anything to edit. Life ticks on and I got lazy, but today is not yesterday and I hope in the future she will continue to point out my flaws, I will continue to get my hackles up from time to time, and in the end she will be right and everything I do will be better because she was there to help.
Sue is the voice in my head. The teacher standing over me tsk-ing away, and I thank her for it. I am still not a great writer, I still don't have the elements of style down. I just know I can rely on the voice in my head, the lady with the booming voice and the kind heart to shove my inconsistencies and errors in my face. Don't get me wrong, she is very nice about it. She pushes me to be better where often those that know me are just very kind. When someone in your life has the balls (sorry Sue poor illustration) to tell you when you're wrong because they want to see you succeed, you can wilt or brace yourself. If you can take the knocks to the ego you come out the other side a much better writer/person.
Now I need to satisfy the other editor in my life, that being my wife. God knows that the last hundred words were somehow depressing in a way I can't see. Every time I write a blog I envision thousands (OK 10 or 15) people weeping and tearing their hair in sorrow based on my wife's reaction (notice how well I take criticism).
I feel like the unassuming comedian out for dinner and someone wants him to 'be funny' or 'tell a joke'. As I have sat here trying to think of a joke that would hopefully satisfy my quota, I have come up blank. So instead of telling a joke let me tell you something about myself that most people find funny.
I don't like seeing food on people's faces. You know those commercials where a fast food joint decides that some dude with burger seeping out of his mouth will somehow entice the world to buy their junk food. I would honestly like to know who thinks this is appetizing. The entire situation makes me want to throw up. Someone asked me last week if my disgust for things on peoples faces extends beyond food. After very little consideration the answer is yes. If you would like a list of things I find repulsive then include spit, and anything involving children being dirty, soiled, or unclean. In fact, if you ever need to torture me you don't need pins under my finger nails, you simply need to spit on my face, wait ten seconds, and I will tell you anything you want to know.
Tuesday 19 July 2011
If you can't say something funny...
Anyone else forget just about everything you learned in high school? A friend of mine recently went back to school so she could enter the health care system and help people. I find that an amazing feat. Not to mention the act of wanting to help sick people goes against my germ-phobias and my complete lack of ability to think about anyone other than myself. 'Let them eat cake' I say, but thankfully there are good people in the world who want to do good things for others. The thought of going back to school fills me with terror and angst plus the fear of failure. She is someone who found a passion in life and had the courage to take a risk and find her own way. She is also the type of person you tend to like so much you want to scrunch her up and put her in your pocket so you can take her anywhere you go. Perhaps that doesn't sound right - she's just fun to have around - let's stick with that.
Now a writer would have changed parts of that intro, but in this blog I have decided to show the warts of my writing. You should see how my mind works before I actually edit it. Otherwise I might sound intelligent and seem talented. What the hell good could come of that horseshit I ask you? I have people in Germany and France who seem to be tuning into my little peep show here. Welcome to you all and would it be too forward of me to ask you if you would like to marry me and have my babies? Too forward? Why string people along for a whole career when I can alienate them within minutes of them finding me? Why wait to have a comeback when I can start rebuilding my failed career before it even gets started?
The first draft of my 3rd novel is now complete and this will be my last blog for a week or two as I need to get my head back on straight. The thrill of being finished and getting a little rest for my meager imagination. The elation that I finished step one of the process feels good. I intend on getting down to my studio to throw some paint on canvas. I suggest we all stand up and do a little happy dance. I am currently doing a naked Electric Slide. Unfortunately, for those of you who know me you may have formed a mental picture of said Naked Electric Slide (I apologize for that).
My question for the day is - if you are stuck in a beautiful prison - are you still in prison? The real prison is a hostile and dangerous place. But let's say you are in a prison of bright vibrant colours and although you can't leave you can satisfy the occasional whim. You live well enough, you eat well, you still go on vacation from time to time. At the end of the day within your beautiful prison you have little contact loved ones, and hardly any access to your passions - is that prison? If you have half of your free will, but not all of it, does it still count as being free? Is living a half life really that much better than no life? Just wondering...
My next blog will be funny. My wife tells me I need to stop being depressing. I have been trying to take this advise to heart. Although one last question - does a woman who revels in the likes of Jane Eyre, a woman who thinks Jane Austen is the greatest story teller whom ever lived, does she really get to judge who is depressing? My humble answer can only be "yes". What about you?
Now a writer would have changed parts of that intro, but in this blog I have decided to show the warts of my writing. You should see how my mind works before I actually edit it. Otherwise I might sound intelligent and seem talented. What the hell good could come of that horseshit I ask you? I have people in Germany and France who seem to be tuning into my little peep show here. Welcome to you all and would it be too forward of me to ask you if you would like to marry me and have my babies? Too forward? Why string people along for a whole career when I can alienate them within minutes of them finding me? Why wait to have a comeback when I can start rebuilding my failed career before it even gets started?
The first draft of my 3rd novel is now complete and this will be my last blog for a week or two as I need to get my head back on straight. The thrill of being finished and getting a little rest for my meager imagination. The elation that I finished step one of the process feels good. I intend on getting down to my studio to throw some paint on canvas. I suggest we all stand up and do a little happy dance. I am currently doing a naked Electric Slide. Unfortunately, for those of you who know me you may have formed a mental picture of said Naked Electric Slide (I apologize for that).
My question for the day is - if you are stuck in a beautiful prison - are you still in prison? The real prison is a hostile and dangerous place. But let's say you are in a prison of bright vibrant colours and although you can't leave you can satisfy the occasional whim. You live well enough, you eat well, you still go on vacation from time to time. At the end of the day within your beautiful prison you have little contact loved ones, and hardly any access to your passions - is that prison? If you have half of your free will, but not all of it, does it still count as being free? Is living a half life really that much better than no life? Just wondering...
My next blog will be funny. My wife tells me I need to stop being depressing. I have been trying to take this advise to heart. Although one last question - does a woman who revels in the likes of Jane Eyre, a woman who thinks Jane Austen is the greatest story teller whom ever lived, does she really get to judge who is depressing? My humble answer can only be "yes". What about you?
Tuesday 5 July 2011
Terminal dumbness and the art of always being wrong
I have these pictures of my pets that dredge themselves up from time to time. They are hidden in my computer or on my phone and due to my complete lack of competence with anything computerized these things tend to vanish, and then I happen upon them when I am trying to fix something or find something I have lost. These little moments in time exist because we were able to get one of the dogs or cats standing still for long enough to capture their life on film (do we still call it film?). I have been thinking about the fleeting life we all live, and the moments that seem endless are really just seconds that pass, and one day these moments will catch up with me. I suppose it's melancholy or just self-indulgence. I don't like to dwell on the eventualities of life, but sometimes you just can't help it.
Suz and I have lost pets. Most of us have I'm sure. Unfortunately, for us they were just babies. I don't want to decide whether it's harder to lose a long time friend or a new one. Either way it's just too hard to want to think about. Currently, I am sitting in my den while Angus is being a clown, Sadie and Anna just want to be left alone, and Bronte (or Bubba as I call him) is convinced that unless he actually sits on my wife's face life will just not continue. This is the beautiful moment that will last a lifetime.
This is the only room in the house in which we all sit together. This is also now the only room in the house in which I write. I have about 3 hours worth of work to do on my current book, but life has gotten busy and I just haven't made the time. I have promised myself that I will finish tomorrow so I can get copies out for the weekend and start looking forward to the first draft party. I plan on coming dressed as a banana. Actually, it's just a full yellow spandex suit with a pointy hat, but I call myself Banana Man when I wear it. The festivities include the 'limbo under a banana' competition, and the 'two legged banana' race.
I honestly have no idea why I write this blog - I have gone from a man who feared the release of his name into the world - to a man who claims to invite people over to his house to limbo under his banana. It is a startling turn of events, but honestly these words seem to make small waves, and there are people who know me now that didn't before. The goal is to find enough people who think these words or the artwork have value. Lord knows I've questioned the value of what I do most of my life. I was wrong to spend the last twenty years accepting the solitude and hiding from possible rejection. If I am the only one who tells myself I'm not good enough - then I will never really know for sure if that's true. The growing pains are difficult sometimes, but look at me now - spandex and all baby.
Suz and I have lost pets. Most of us have I'm sure. Unfortunately, for us they were just babies. I don't want to decide whether it's harder to lose a long time friend or a new one. Either way it's just too hard to want to think about. Currently, I am sitting in my den while Angus is being a clown, Sadie and Anna just want to be left alone, and Bronte (or Bubba as I call him) is convinced that unless he actually sits on my wife's face life will just not continue. This is the beautiful moment that will last a lifetime.
This is the only room in the house in which we all sit together. This is also now the only room in the house in which I write. I have about 3 hours worth of work to do on my current book, but life has gotten busy and I just haven't made the time. I have promised myself that I will finish tomorrow so I can get copies out for the weekend and start looking forward to the first draft party. I plan on coming dressed as a banana. Actually, it's just a full yellow spandex suit with a pointy hat, but I call myself Banana Man when I wear it. The festivities include the 'limbo under a banana' competition, and the 'two legged banana' race.
I honestly have no idea why I write this blog - I have gone from a man who feared the release of his name into the world - to a man who claims to invite people over to his house to limbo under his banana. It is a startling turn of events, but honestly these words seem to make small waves, and there are people who know me now that didn't before. The goal is to find enough people who think these words or the artwork have value. Lord knows I've questioned the value of what I do most of my life. I was wrong to spend the last twenty years accepting the solitude and hiding from possible rejection. If I am the only one who tells myself I'm not good enough - then I will never really know for sure if that's true. The growing pains are difficult sometimes, but look at me now - spandex and all baby.
Thursday 23 June 2011
No one looks good in a broken mirror
Apparently the girls at work took a poll and I look better a little fatter than a little thinner. I find two things interesting about this fact - the first obviously being that the poll took place, and two the outcome was just randomly said to me like I knew it was taking place. It doesn't bother me - although I do wonder if the outcome of the poll had been - I looked better a little thinner - if I would have been told the result. Something tells me the cold hard reality would still have been handed to me. I have put on about ten pounds in the past two years after being at a very svelte weight for a very short time. I think I still look good, but I would certainly feel a bit more comfortable with a Pitt/Clooney makeover/takeover of my body.
I finished the half marathon this year and I finished a full marathon last year. I have a trainer I see twice a week, and I do cardo more often than I care to think about. Still I manage to be a bit heavier than I really want to be. Mostly due to the fact I compare myself against the likes of Clooney and Pitt, and I have a severe carb addiction that occasionally rules my life. I definitely shouldn't compare myself to movie stars and carbs although I love them like the children I never had - are the bane of my existence. However, I work out so hard I think it may just kill me, and lets just say if I work any harder and don't achieve the Greek God physique right this minute I will be incredibly disappointed, I live in a beyond exhausted state, and I will continue to find the act of working this hard and looking this normal - a very difficult pill to swallow. I reread that last bit and it is poorly written, doesn't make sense, and I refuse to change it because it's how I feel, and that doesn't make sense either - so there.
The fact of the matter is I wrestle with things we all do - self-image, and self- worth to name just two. I often find I am very hard on myself despite the fact I have accomplished some fairly heady goals. Liking the person I am is far from an easy thing to do when I know myself so well. I can't hide behind the excuse of not knowing who I am, and not knowing what I want out of life, so judging my successes and failures just happens to be something I excel at. To date I have never succeeded to a full 'pat on the back', but occasionally I do give myself a 'that's not bad'. Funny how if I am judging others I am very keen to give maximum allowances for things I would never tolerate about myself. Therefore the fact I have lost 120 pounds counts for very little, but the fact I have gained 10 in two years is a glaring blot on my self evaluated minor success. Ah the lack of that making any sense is not lost on me friends, but I have never denied the fact I need deep analysis and psychological help.
For the record we should all use the same scale when evaluating ourselves (that way we will be on the same page):
1 I am awesome
2 Good Show Ole Chap
3 Pat On The Back
4 That's Not Bad
5 You Have Got To Be Kidding Me
6 Is That The Best You Got
7 I should have stayed in bed
8 I Don't Even Want To Talk About It
I guess what started me off on this was the people I work with. As you can tell they are interesting people who do not feel that boundaries are located in quite the same place as most people do, and frankly I'm good with that. Between rude jokes that make you feel like you've been transported back to an office in the fifties (minus the ass slapping, but still keeping booze in the desk for an afternoon nip); to the general and regular homoerotic banter between male counterparts, it is a very strange place to spend a work day. That is what makes the place special and I have been sad recently to see the things that make it unique start to die away. There has been a general cleanse with the aim to make the place I work just as homogenized as every other work place in the world, and two things will no doubt result:
1) It will no doubt be successful and wash away all that was once great about where I worked.
2) It will be the loss of something I love.
Honestly, the thought of living in the idealized fifties when people seemingly said what they meant and lived to an honor code rather than living in a world where we all pretend to love each other and let true feelings fester (this is all minus the actual world where women were not equals and race was what made you great - there is always a downside to everything). So go ahead and tell me I look good a little heavier, just don't ask me to be happy when no one will tell me the truth. I don't need those kind of friends, and I would rather know you hated me for who I am and what I stand for. It would make me love you even more if you slapped me in the face when you said it.
I finished the half marathon this year and I finished a full marathon last year. I have a trainer I see twice a week, and I do cardo more often than I care to think about. Still I manage to be a bit heavier than I really want to be. Mostly due to the fact I compare myself against the likes of Clooney and Pitt, and I have a severe carb addiction that occasionally rules my life. I definitely shouldn't compare myself to movie stars and carbs although I love them like the children I never had - are the bane of my existence. However, I work out so hard I think it may just kill me, and lets just say if I work any harder and don't achieve the Greek God physique right this minute I will be incredibly disappointed, I live in a beyond exhausted state, and I will continue to find the act of working this hard and looking this normal - a very difficult pill to swallow. I reread that last bit and it is poorly written, doesn't make sense, and I refuse to change it because it's how I feel, and that doesn't make sense either - so there.
The fact of the matter is I wrestle with things we all do - self-image, and self- worth to name just two. I often find I am very hard on myself despite the fact I have accomplished some fairly heady goals. Liking the person I am is far from an easy thing to do when I know myself so well. I can't hide behind the excuse of not knowing who I am, and not knowing what I want out of life, so judging my successes and failures just happens to be something I excel at. To date I have never succeeded to a full 'pat on the back', but occasionally I do give myself a 'that's not bad'. Funny how if I am judging others I am very keen to give maximum allowances for things I would never tolerate about myself. Therefore the fact I have lost 120 pounds counts for very little, but the fact I have gained 10 in two years is a glaring blot on my self evaluated minor success. Ah the lack of that making any sense is not lost on me friends, but I have never denied the fact I need deep analysis and psychological help.
For the record we should all use the same scale when evaluating ourselves (that way we will be on the same page):
1 I am awesome
2 Good Show Ole Chap
3 Pat On The Back
4 That's Not Bad
5 You Have Got To Be Kidding Me
6 Is That The Best You Got
7 I should have stayed in bed
8 I Don't Even Want To Talk About It
I guess what started me off on this was the people I work with. As you can tell they are interesting people who do not feel that boundaries are located in quite the same place as most people do, and frankly I'm good with that. Between rude jokes that make you feel like you've been transported back to an office in the fifties (minus the ass slapping, but still keeping booze in the desk for an afternoon nip); to the general and regular homoerotic banter between male counterparts, it is a very strange place to spend a work day. That is what makes the place special and I have been sad recently to see the things that make it unique start to die away. There has been a general cleanse with the aim to make the place I work just as homogenized as every other work place in the world, and two things will no doubt result:
1) It will no doubt be successful and wash away all that was once great about where I worked.
2) It will be the loss of something I love.
Honestly, the thought of living in the idealized fifties when people seemingly said what they meant and lived to an honor code rather than living in a world where we all pretend to love each other and let true feelings fester (this is all minus the actual world where women were not equals and race was what made you great - there is always a downside to everything). So go ahead and tell me I look good a little heavier, just don't ask me to be happy when no one will tell me the truth. I don't need those kind of friends, and I would rather know you hated me for who I am and what I stand for. It would make me love you even more if you slapped me in the face when you said it.
Tuesday 14 June 2011
The sound of one hand clapping
A reflection for my young friends who have graduated or will graduate in the near future . Let's think of this as a valedictorian speech from a 37 year old who was never smart enough to have been valedictorian.
In my opinion school is not about what you learn - it is about who you start to become while you are attending school that will matter the most about twenty years after you've left. The possibilities are endless when it comes to the type of person you are becoming. There may be a job or career you feel partial to, but the reality of becoming that person may seem impossible. People will tell you being a musician is impossible - in fact you will be told that being any type of artist is impossible. You may be told that choosing a certain profession will cost you thousands of dollars to attain a degree and when you graduate you will never get a job in the field you've studied in or that the job you get will pay you nothing and reap you no benefit.
Let me - let you - in on a little secret. Anyone who deters you from becoming who you want to be. Anyone who tells you how hard something will be. Anyone who tries to persuade you that who you want to be is not possible or realistic is no friend of yours. They are not worthy of you. They are not thinking about what is best for you. They do not have your best interest at heart. I would advise you - whether this person or these people are friends or family - I would advise you to run. Whether friend or family, confidant, teacher or advisor - you need to run. You need to plug your ears and not listen like when you were six years old. You need to plug you ears and run.
I could go off on the type of person who would give you advise to NOT follow your dreams, but this is not about them. This is about you and your life. What will happen if you listen is eventually you will awaken from a dream. It's actually not a dream it is the reality of what life will become for you if you don't follow your actual dream. Your life will drift by. Your days will be filled with paying bills and doing things you hate so you can pay your bills. You will amass more bills and debt while trying to purchase things that will soothe yourself. The reason you need soothing is due to the fact that you do things you hate for a living because you amass debt and purchase things. It is a sad reality for most of us, and even more sad is the reality that all we had to do to avoid this fate was to follow a dream when we were your age. It doesn't mean that everyone will or would have become a rock star. It means that on the road to becoming a rock star you would grow as a person, and a life that begins in the right direction will most likely continue to follow the right direction, and eventually you will end up in the place you were supposed to be - instead of the place you had to manufacture because you didn't follow your dream.
Your dream may be to become a doctor, but maybe your grades are not good enough or perhaps it will just take too long and you need to feed yourself so you think you need to get a job first. Don't do it. Don't trust yourself to 'go back to school next year'. At every corner you will fight the path of least resistance. You will struggle. You will buy things you don't need, and then the excuse will be you will go back when your VISA is paid off, or when you get a new computer. Don't give yourself a chance to make excuses. You will end up forever trying to feed yourself as a bus driver or a salesman and everyday you will think about where you could have been or what you could have done if only you put your energy into doing what you wanted rather than focusing on a part of life that you will always find a way to get through anyway. So starve a little (trust me you will starve in other ways anyway). Trust yourself to find a way. Go to the damn food bank if you have to. Hell if you know me come to my house and I will feed you. Just don't let the things that jealous petty people say take you aback. Don't trust anything other than the little voice in your head that is telling you what to do.
So maybe your 'little voice' is quiet. Maybe you are the final type of person who doesn't know what you want to do. Well I call bullshit, but o.k. let's play the game. Research the job that pays the most amount of money and doesn't require you to work full time. Find the job where you can consult and work from home. Find the job that will allow you the most amount of leeway to choose projects you want to work on. Google it right now. That way you can go to school for the best job. God knows those of us working stiffs do all the shitty jobs so there is no need for you to join the ranks. Basically if you are going to work do the research and get into something that will allow you to follow your passion down the road when you figure out what it is.
In summation and trust me I know this is a total cliche, but nothing is impossible
In my opinion school is not about what you learn - it is about who you start to become while you are attending school that will matter the most about twenty years after you've left. The possibilities are endless when it comes to the type of person you are becoming. There may be a job or career you feel partial to, but the reality of becoming that person may seem impossible. People will tell you being a musician is impossible - in fact you will be told that being any type of artist is impossible. You may be told that choosing a certain profession will cost you thousands of dollars to attain a degree and when you graduate you will never get a job in the field you've studied in or that the job you get will pay you nothing and reap you no benefit.
Let me - let you - in on a little secret. Anyone who deters you from becoming who you want to be. Anyone who tells you how hard something will be. Anyone who tries to persuade you that who you want to be is not possible or realistic is no friend of yours. They are not worthy of you. They are not thinking about what is best for you. They do not have your best interest at heart. I would advise you - whether this person or these people are friends or family - I would advise you to run. Whether friend or family, confidant, teacher or advisor - you need to run. You need to plug your ears and not listen like when you were six years old. You need to plug you ears and run.
I could go off on the type of person who would give you advise to NOT follow your dreams, but this is not about them. This is about you and your life. What will happen if you listen is eventually you will awaken from a dream. It's actually not a dream it is the reality of what life will become for you if you don't follow your actual dream. Your life will drift by. Your days will be filled with paying bills and doing things you hate so you can pay your bills. You will amass more bills and debt while trying to purchase things that will soothe yourself. The reason you need soothing is due to the fact that you do things you hate for a living because you amass debt and purchase things. It is a sad reality for most of us, and even more sad is the reality that all we had to do to avoid this fate was to follow a dream when we were your age. It doesn't mean that everyone will or would have become a rock star. It means that on the road to becoming a rock star you would grow as a person, and a life that begins in the right direction will most likely continue to follow the right direction, and eventually you will end up in the place you were supposed to be - instead of the place you had to manufacture because you didn't follow your dream.
Your dream may be to become a doctor, but maybe your grades are not good enough or perhaps it will just take too long and you need to feed yourself so you think you need to get a job first. Don't do it. Don't trust yourself to 'go back to school next year'. At every corner you will fight the path of least resistance. You will struggle. You will buy things you don't need, and then the excuse will be you will go back when your VISA is paid off, or when you get a new computer. Don't give yourself a chance to make excuses. You will end up forever trying to feed yourself as a bus driver or a salesman and everyday you will think about where you could have been or what you could have done if only you put your energy into doing what you wanted rather than focusing on a part of life that you will always find a way to get through anyway. So starve a little (trust me you will starve in other ways anyway). Trust yourself to find a way. Go to the damn food bank if you have to. Hell if you know me come to my house and I will feed you. Just don't let the things that jealous petty people say take you aback. Don't trust anything other than the little voice in your head that is telling you what to do.
So maybe your 'little voice' is quiet. Maybe you are the final type of person who doesn't know what you want to do. Well I call bullshit, but o.k. let's play the game. Research the job that pays the most amount of money and doesn't require you to work full time. Find the job where you can consult and work from home. Find the job that will allow you the most amount of leeway to choose projects you want to work on. Google it right now. That way you can go to school for the best job. God knows those of us working stiffs do all the shitty jobs so there is no need for you to join the ranks. Basically if you are going to work do the research and get into something that will allow you to follow your passion down the road when you figure out what it is.
In summation and trust me I know this is a total cliche, but nothing is impossible
Thursday 19 May 2011
Tom and the Rubber Chicken
I have a flaw in my writing which mostly involves my want to start in the middle of a story and work my way into the beginning and then attempting to find an end. There is no sequence that really works for me - I mostly just listen to the voice in my head. The voice of the character I am writing about becomes real to me. So real that I start to convince myself that the character exists. The voice becomes a real and separate being - so the question is whether that voice is mine or if it really belongs to someone else. I would like to take credit for the words I write, but truthfully I don't feel they really belong to me. I don't think the words I write will show you the root of my soul - they will simply give you a glimpse into the hamster wheel. I am not really trying to be self-effacing. I just want the truth to be known so if there ever comes a time anything I have ever said or written comes up for debate it will be widely known that the words were just thrown out. They weren't crafted or etched into existence they were spit out like a lunatic in an asylum just seconds before a fresh set of meds are injected.
What starts a story I write is a lone voice which gets me moving forward and what happens next is based on my perception of people. I put them in places and allow them to work themselves out of a situation or further into one. The way the words form and the way the story evolves always centres around human nature. You would think that this ability would allow me to have some extra insight into myself, but unfortunately the X-ray vision only works on others. Mostly it only works on fictional characters.
I am not an easy person. My view of myself is often very dim and I suppose the people I write about have the same dim view of who they are as well. That is the thread that holds us together. My flaws are deep and endless and they mount with each passing day. I have been ruthless in my own self-evaluation and yet I give people I don't know and do know the benefit of the doubt. I have not been hard enough on myself in my own opinion. I have a great life, but I walked into it. I have allowed myself to follow the path of least resistance when it comes to my career. I got lucky and a great girl loves me in spite of my flaws. I bought a house before it got so expensive I couldn't afford to even rent it in today's market.
Overall - when I have failed I have been lucky. Now looking at life I realize that every success I have had could have been magnified if I had followed my dreams. I could go to work every day and make something of my own. I could give more of myself to the girl I love. I could finally wear dread locks and shoot heroin just like I always dreamed (just kidding). I realize that if you are brave your falls will be larger than when you are safe, but when you are brave your successes are larger too. Nothing is perfect, but keep one thing in mind - you have to look yourself in the mirror at the end of the day. Who do you want to look at? I seem to be avoiding the mirror quite a bit recently. Don't get me wrong I am proud of who I am - but a little voice keeps telling me that if I just try a little harder and put myself out there a little more that I could be more like the person I want to be - not just the person who settles for good enough.
I turn 37 next week. In general birthdays have never bothered me because I have always felt younger than my actual age, but this one has twinged my normal sensibilities. I feel a bit more 37 than I ever did 36 (if that makes sense). If you are wondering about the rubber chicken thing it's a long story, but at one point in my life when I was younger and thought I'd be famous one day I told a friend that when the day came to write my autobiography I would call it 'Tom and The Rubber Chicken'. It seemed just as ridiculous as the thought of me becoming famous, but it's a commitment I'm prepared to keep should the day ever come.
'Don't confront me with my failures - I have not forgotten them' (Jackson Browne)
What starts a story I write is a lone voice which gets me moving forward and what happens next is based on my perception of people. I put them in places and allow them to work themselves out of a situation or further into one. The way the words form and the way the story evolves always centres around human nature. You would think that this ability would allow me to have some extra insight into myself, but unfortunately the X-ray vision only works on others. Mostly it only works on fictional characters.
I am not an easy person. My view of myself is often very dim and I suppose the people I write about have the same dim view of who they are as well. That is the thread that holds us together. My flaws are deep and endless and they mount with each passing day. I have been ruthless in my own self-evaluation and yet I give people I don't know and do know the benefit of the doubt. I have not been hard enough on myself in my own opinion. I have a great life, but I walked into it. I have allowed myself to follow the path of least resistance when it comes to my career. I got lucky and a great girl loves me in spite of my flaws. I bought a house before it got so expensive I couldn't afford to even rent it in today's market.
Overall - when I have failed I have been lucky. Now looking at life I realize that every success I have had could have been magnified if I had followed my dreams. I could go to work every day and make something of my own. I could give more of myself to the girl I love. I could finally wear dread locks and shoot heroin just like I always dreamed (just kidding). I realize that if you are brave your falls will be larger than when you are safe, but when you are brave your successes are larger too. Nothing is perfect, but keep one thing in mind - you have to look yourself in the mirror at the end of the day. Who do you want to look at? I seem to be avoiding the mirror quite a bit recently. Don't get me wrong I am proud of who I am - but a little voice keeps telling me that if I just try a little harder and put myself out there a little more that I could be more like the person I want to be - not just the person who settles for good enough.
I turn 37 next week. In general birthdays have never bothered me because I have always felt younger than my actual age, but this one has twinged my normal sensibilities. I feel a bit more 37 than I ever did 36 (if that makes sense). If you are wondering about the rubber chicken thing it's a long story, but at one point in my life when I was younger and thought I'd be famous one day I told a friend that when the day came to write my autobiography I would call it 'Tom and The Rubber Chicken'. It seemed just as ridiculous as the thought of me becoming famous, but it's a commitment I'm prepared to keep should the day ever come.
'Don't confront me with my failures - I have not forgotten them' (Jackson Browne)
Friday 22 April 2011
Spoken versus written words and why torture is easier than the expression of my true feelings
I have friends. I know that's hard to believe I mean I rarely make time for anyone other than myself with the exception of my wife who is a golf widow in the summer and a writing/running widow in the winter. I have slowly gathered a small group of people who temporarily tolerate me in short bursts. Maybe that is more apt than saying I have friends. Either way and regardless of how they feel for me, I have had the honour to know some extremely amazing people who make my life look simple and small in many ways. I am sure most of us would say the same about their friends.
What I realise or have slowly come to realise is that these people lead extraordinary lives and my once seemingly difficult and sheltered life seems small and mostly insignificant by comparison. My want to be extraordinary and special is diminished by the presence of the unbelievable people that surround me daily. And don't get me wrong these people are not famous. They don't all have incredible jobs and fabulous lives by today's MTV generational standards. I am not talking about people who jet everywhere, or sleep on stacks of hundred dollar bills. If that was the case this blog would be dedicated to making these people want to give me money (just kidding — kind of). What I mean is extraordinary by the standards of real human beings, with real lives. These people are giants.
I don't always know when it's appropriate to name names in this type of forum. I know I have been named in certain things on Facebook - or had pictures posted by another person and not been happy about it so I will attempt to remain vague regarding the people's names, but specific about who they are and what they represent to me.
One specific instance that has touched me recently and left me speechless are friends of ours who have a disabled child. I don't know much about disability. I don't like to think of anything as having a disability. To me it's just different. Some of us have incredible struggles in life and they are all different and varied. By what most would consider normal standards I am in awe as this child has strong courageous and wonderful parents who will to change their lives and circle the globe to help their child in any way-shape-or form given to them as a possibility. So if the problem of the child is that he started out life with a disability he ended up with parents that fight for him. That change their lives for him. That focus a great deal of who they are to make sure their child is not disabled. Simply put they are not just parents but champions of a human life.
I don't have that kind of courage. I don't have that ability to put myself aside for any amount of time to deal with others. That makes me sound selfish and I am the first to admit that when it comes to my time and my life I am as selfish as anyone. When I see people this true and this amazing it makes me look at myself in very harsh terms. I can walk into a room of millionaires and there isn't a single one that would make me feel unworthy or small. But people this selfless, truly amazing and strong, make me want to bow like I was in front of real nobility. Their truth can be difficult, but their spirit for life and their ability to look difficulties right in the eye and not back down is inspiring and beautiful to see. These are the aristocrats in today's world — in my world. And through it all they are brilliantly happy and funny people who live life and make the most out of everyday. I am sure they may feel defeated at times as we all do. This is when I wish I could be there - I wish I could be there with my pom-poms and my short cheerleader outfit (nice image) and just let them know how all the people who know them feel privileged to know them, everyone who loves them is inspired by their strength and we want to be there. To be their cheerleader for that moment.
My challenge in life is trying to tell them this. I can do many things well and a few things I can do better than average, but I struggle with my voice. My voice when I write is strong, and I am not afraid to stand up in front of a group people and talk or try to be funny. None of this makes me nervous. It's only when the talk gets personal. When the words are heartfelt and the expression could help or make a person feel special that I have a more difficult time. Often all the words will come into my head, but the voice will not propel them out into the world where they could do some good. That is unless I can propel them by writing them down and sending them off into the void where maybe these people will see them. Maybe then it will do some good.
So to all my friends - to any of you that are struggling today or may find yourself struggling tomorrow - I am here for you. I will give you anything I am able to give. I will help in anyway I possibly can. I just may not be able to say out loud exactly what you want or need to hear, but if you need it, and you have a minute or two to wait for me to write it down - then just let me know.
And specifically to the two friends that I mention above — my skills as a parent are zero — my ability to comprehend what you need is small — my thoughts are with you not just today but more often than you realise — and if there is any small thing I can do that will make your incredible lives easier then I will drop everything and be there to aide you. My admiration for you as people is far beyond what any words are able to express. I know of everything these words do - they probably do very little to actually help, but I humbly offer anything I am capable of providing to help - even the cheerleader outfit.
What I realise or have slowly come to realise is that these people lead extraordinary lives and my once seemingly difficult and sheltered life seems small and mostly insignificant by comparison. My want to be extraordinary and special is diminished by the presence of the unbelievable people that surround me daily. And don't get me wrong these people are not famous. They don't all have incredible jobs and fabulous lives by today's MTV generational standards. I am not talking about people who jet everywhere, or sleep on stacks of hundred dollar bills. If that was the case this blog would be dedicated to making these people want to give me money (just kidding — kind of). What I mean is extraordinary by the standards of real human beings, with real lives. These people are giants.
I don't always know when it's appropriate to name names in this type of forum. I know I have been named in certain things on Facebook - or had pictures posted by another person and not been happy about it so I will attempt to remain vague regarding the people's names, but specific about who they are and what they represent to me.
One specific instance that has touched me recently and left me speechless are friends of ours who have a disabled child. I don't know much about disability. I don't like to think of anything as having a disability. To me it's just different. Some of us have incredible struggles in life and they are all different and varied. By what most would consider normal standards I am in awe as this child has strong courageous and wonderful parents who will to change their lives and circle the globe to help their child in any way-shape-or form given to them as a possibility. So if the problem of the child is that he started out life with a disability he ended up with parents that fight for him. That change their lives for him. That focus a great deal of who they are to make sure their child is not disabled. Simply put they are not just parents but champions of a human life.
I don't have that kind of courage. I don't have that ability to put myself aside for any amount of time to deal with others. That makes me sound selfish and I am the first to admit that when it comes to my time and my life I am as selfish as anyone. When I see people this true and this amazing it makes me look at myself in very harsh terms. I can walk into a room of millionaires and there isn't a single one that would make me feel unworthy or small. But people this selfless, truly amazing and strong, make me want to bow like I was in front of real nobility. Their truth can be difficult, but their spirit for life and their ability to look difficulties right in the eye and not back down is inspiring and beautiful to see. These are the aristocrats in today's world — in my world. And through it all they are brilliantly happy and funny people who live life and make the most out of everyday. I am sure they may feel defeated at times as we all do. This is when I wish I could be there - I wish I could be there with my pom-poms and my short cheerleader outfit (nice image) and just let them know how all the people who know them feel privileged to know them, everyone who loves them is inspired by their strength and we want to be there. To be their cheerleader for that moment.
My challenge in life is trying to tell them this. I can do many things well and a few things I can do better than average, but I struggle with my voice. My voice when I write is strong, and I am not afraid to stand up in front of a group people and talk or try to be funny. None of this makes me nervous. It's only when the talk gets personal. When the words are heartfelt and the expression could help or make a person feel special that I have a more difficult time. Often all the words will come into my head, but the voice will not propel them out into the world where they could do some good. That is unless I can propel them by writing them down and sending them off into the void where maybe these people will see them. Maybe then it will do some good.
So to all my friends - to any of you that are struggling today or may find yourself struggling tomorrow - I am here for you. I will give you anything I am able to give. I will help in anyway I possibly can. I just may not be able to say out loud exactly what you want or need to hear, but if you need it, and you have a minute or two to wait for me to write it down - then just let me know.
And specifically to the two friends that I mention above — my skills as a parent are zero — my ability to comprehend what you need is small — my thoughts are with you not just today but more often than you realise — and if there is any small thing I can do that will make your incredible lives easier then I will drop everything and be there to aide you. My admiration for you as people is far beyond what any words are able to express. I know of everything these words do - they probably do very little to actually help, but I humbly offer anything I am capable of providing to help - even the cheerleader outfit.
Monday 11 April 2011
My cats are trying to kill me.
Why is it no one believes me when I tell them my cats are plotting my death? Is it so hard to believe? The fact is I think the actual plot is to kill me in my sleep and find a way to blame the dogs so they are removed from the house. Cats only love you because they are forced to, dogs are too stupid not to love you.
I suppose you think it's impossible to be killed by a cat? There is evidence to support my theory:
1) Is the creepy way they look at me 2) They like my wife way more than me 3) I have a constant cat nip flavour on my tongue which leads me to believe they stalk me in my sleep 4) I awake constantly feeling like I am a cat toy bouncing on a string and in my sleepy daze I hear the lingering sound of jingle balls and am covered in a cocoon of cat fur.
A friend of mine is getting married soon. As a man who has been married to a woman for all of his adult life and a little bit before the adult part happened - I think I understand loving someone. It doesn't mean I solved a mystery or understand the secret of relationships. I just get wanting to be with the same person. Wanting to 'get' that person and accept them. That to me is what the 'marriage' is - you are committing to be flexible, to be kind, to be understanding, and in return you are asking for the same. Love is the by product. It is the want for eternity and happiness, but there is no guarantee that a simple vow will lead to either. There is no way to ensure you will not get hurt. No way to ensure that even though I've been married 12 years and with the same woman for 16 that we will end up together. It is my intention for nothing to change by allowing everything to change - except for the bond. The vow I made to recognise the bond and protect it, shelter it and foster it. People don't believe in vows that much anymore. We are no longer taught that your word is your honour. That honour has value, and being a man or woman of honour is all that matters. Again a simple view on life. The details of life make the realities of a bond, a vow, and honour difficult words to live by.
Morality for the masses. Morality is forgotten because life is hard. We search for the path of least resistance and we flood those who take it with accolades. Well I like to think I am a man of honour. That doesn't mean I have never made mistakes. I have done dishonourable things. Things I am not proud of and things that sting me to this very day. The difference is I learn from those things. I don't celebrate my failures I live with them, and I try to never repeat them. My success - if it ever happens - will not be at the expense of others. My success - if it ever happens - will celebrate others. Ah utopia. And in summation if I die tonight - blame the cats.
I suppose you think it's impossible to be killed by a cat? There is evidence to support my theory:
1) Is the creepy way they look at me 2) They like my wife way more than me 3) I have a constant cat nip flavour on my tongue which leads me to believe they stalk me in my sleep 4) I awake constantly feeling like I am a cat toy bouncing on a string and in my sleepy daze I hear the lingering sound of jingle balls and am covered in a cocoon of cat fur.
A friend of mine is getting married soon. As a man who has been married to a woman for all of his adult life and a little bit before the adult part happened - I think I understand loving someone. It doesn't mean I solved a mystery or understand the secret of relationships. I just get wanting to be with the same person. Wanting to 'get' that person and accept them. That to me is what the 'marriage' is - you are committing to be flexible, to be kind, to be understanding, and in return you are asking for the same. Love is the by product. It is the want for eternity and happiness, but there is no guarantee that a simple vow will lead to either. There is no way to ensure you will not get hurt. No way to ensure that even though I've been married 12 years and with the same woman for 16 that we will end up together. It is my intention for nothing to change by allowing everything to change - except for the bond. The vow I made to recognise the bond and protect it, shelter it and foster it. People don't believe in vows that much anymore. We are no longer taught that your word is your honour. That honour has value, and being a man or woman of honour is all that matters. Again a simple view on life. The details of life make the realities of a bond, a vow, and honour difficult words to live by.
Morality for the masses. Morality is forgotten because life is hard. We search for the path of least resistance and we flood those who take it with accolades. Well I like to think I am a man of honour. That doesn't mean I have never made mistakes. I have done dishonourable things. Things I am not proud of and things that sting me to this very day. The difference is I learn from those things. I don't celebrate my failures I live with them, and I try to never repeat them. My success - if it ever happens - will not be at the expense of others. My success - if it ever happens - will celebrate others. Ah utopia. And in summation if I die tonight - blame the cats.
Wednesday 6 April 2011
Holy Hanna Blogging is Hard When You're An Idiot
It's been a week. Sorry I know you missed me. I missed myself - I mean truly how can I go an entire week without creative outlet? Well the easy answer is Blogger wouldn't let me log in, and my ineptness at all social media doesn't help. I did write this week - I actually wrote pages for my upcoming book. I'm not trying to sell you anything. The only reason I mention it is the limited access to my creative outlets i.e. Twitter, Facebook, and now Blogger forced me to actually create something. Do you have a similar story? I assume you do - tell me about them - or remain anonymous. I know I was anonymous most of my life until a friend made me embrace the social media. And yes when my Facebook page went live for the first time it felt like the entire world was looking at me and the ensuing panic attack was not pretty. I ran around the house naked to calm myself down. Well that was just for fun really, but sometimes it's nice to have an excuse. So now when I'm short on time I use these outlets to be creative in short bursts. I am always looking for other outlets so if you have any please pass it along. In fact we could hold hands and sing camp fire songs and share our life experiences. Let's go further and start a commune where we can all quit our jobs and create stuff. We could be an 'arty' commune - I'm sure no one has ever thought of that before. Should I have put 'lol' at the end of that last sentence? I swear that people can't read properly anymore (or write properly meaning me lol) thus we are all forced to follow these new social conventions so when I say something facetious I now need to add 'lol' so the person understands I'm only joking. Sorry - little pet peeve/rant. I am definitely not a high brow snob, but it bothers me that people can't judge for themselves when something is funny. Like the T.V. sitcom laugh track needs to be transplanted into our daily lives because we are all too stupid to see the humour in anything. The worst part is the Oxford Dictionary recognises these half words lol. That was a sad lol - not a funny one.
Wednesday 30 March 2011
Have you ever felt the need to unleash your inner child? Take advantage of the fact that you are brilliant and exceptional? Ever actually done it? My life has become about the quest to understand why we end up where we do. Surrounded by people we often don't like, and forced to do work we generally stomach for the paycheque but has no redeeming value and adds nothing to our life experience. I suppose it's a selfish quest. I'm sure there are psychologists everywhere that will line up to tell me I'm being unreasonable. My goal is to achieve peace for myself and everyone around me. To create a world for myself where the people I know are able to contribute to the world in the way they want to, and not the way they are forced to by circumstance or financial requirement. What I do understand fully is that success in life is not absolute. It is a sliding scale and we as humans need to be able to understand that nothing is ever perfect and often our lives are not as horrible as we think. People fail to recognize success in stages or portions, and it is the absolute that ties us down and holds us back from the attempt. The old adage that life is the journey and not the destination, but that is obscured daily by the need to feed yourself and put a roof over your own head. So what is it that will make your life better? And don't give me absolutes - we need reasonable desires that are attainable, and the small steps we take will lead us to this mythical place where we are essentially happy. I don't want to live life in 'the bubble' so don't give me your ‘reason’ we need logical resolution to life problems here people. There will be pain and disappointment and loves will be won and lost. What I am talking about is the regular life of the average person working for the better. Becoming the clearest version of yourself while living your life to the fullest extent available - not the dream life, but the true life. Live the life you are given. I know for a fact through all the success in my life I do not live the way I should. I get bogged down in the details and lost in the absolute version of my ideal life.
So who am I? I am a writer and an artist. I specialize in keeping everything I do a secret. It's far easier to hide my work than it is to show it or try to sell it. So far my strategy is working perfectly. Not only have I not sold anything there is very little chance it will happen any time soon. So bring your talent with me and together we will remain anonymous yet content within our little circle. We will fulfill our need to be successful by doing nothing and wondering why nothing happens. Or not....
So who am I? I am a writer and an artist. I specialize in keeping everything I do a secret. It's far easier to hide my work than it is to show it or try to sell it. So far my strategy is working perfectly. Not only have I not sold anything there is very little chance it will happen any time soon. So bring your talent with me and together we will remain anonymous yet content within our little circle. We will fulfill our need to be successful by doing nothing and wondering why nothing happens. Or not....
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