finding happiness though unemployable.
There seems to be a pattern. Whenever I attempt to undergo some sort of absurd ambition, I delay making an update. Usually I gravitate towards more activities with immediate rewards, such as reading or video games or working out (working out compared to writing? I have lost my senses you say? Well I find writing remarkably difficult, each word carefully chosen and placed like the wooden pieces you use while playing Jenga... Maybe I will pull out the old dictionary and begin placing words in sentences that make proper sense?).
And that is the problem isn’t it? I can relate writing to math. No need to write out 1x + 1x + 1 x = y if 3x = y will do the trick. I was reading a book on writing and greatest advice offered (which I hear very often) is for your writing to be succinct (clear, concise, simple and uncomplicated). This of course leads to writing in your own style.
Never mind... that is a tangent I go down all too often. Real results need to be offered! I have been writing 3 short stories, taking turn working on one when I get frustrated with any of the others. I will post them up asap.
DC. What can be said about the epicenter of madness and politics? If politics is the art of controlling your environment then DC is a direct representation of that notion, with no building being taller then the peak height of the capital.
I received an amazing reception the first week of arriving. Jeff took me out to meet his future roomies; Ben, Anne, and Melanie. Ben who should be a comedian and owns two stuffed care bears, is a remarkable friendly and dignified human being. I was struck by the fact that he came to DC doing non profit work as a mentor for young Asian students in the area. I decided to pursue the idea of becoming a mentor and if I am able to find work in the area I will follow up with the next step and become trained and be paired with a young kid to bounce ideas off of and hopefully share moments of inspiration. Anne has this sort of valley girl accent, but is intelligent and fun to hang out with. She also has a weird fascination with Mao the Chinese leader (or dictator if your apart of that camp). I had spent considerable time with Melanie, helping her move her belongings from Bethesda (a name I have only recently conquered to pronunciate correctly..) to the new dwellings near china town. We had a considerable amount to talk about, both of us being raised by traditional immigrant families. I also burned of sizeable portion of the calories I had consumed that day.
There are others that cannot be forgotten. I met with Koko one late afternoon, out in Virginia, for a networking event he had invited me to attend. Virginia is quite different, seems like wealth is evenly distributed and the middle class is more widespread then the DC area. There I met a cool Director of Photography named Brian, who was one of the panelists discussing shooting in foreign countries. He mentioned his unfulfilled desire to do narratives with a fictional bend, I knew immediately that we should meet sometime there after and chat. That time is yet to come, but I look forward to it. I also hung out with the Rhed Pixel Editor, Xe, who was another down to earth fellow.
Then Koko brought me along to do a music video for a friend, as a favor whose precedent remains unknown to me. There I met Kyle, Nadia, Ali, and Marcio. They all seemed to speak Spanish and shared with me Mahti (sp?), a tea that is drunk in a communal cup shaped like a shrunken coconut with the top forth cut open. They all play risk. That is enough to buy me over as a friend.
The first weekend here I became quite ill, but it didn’t stop me from partying! The way I looked at it was this, Jeff leaves in a week and I had to cherish every opportunity to have fun and just share ideas. We went to a cool place called Café Citron, and tried to salsa! No one person in our group was very good, but that didn’t deter us from having a good time. In the shadow of the remarkably well, we attempted to mime the movements and learn through observation. Another night was spent at some Irish pun, consuming too much alcohol and nearing a complete black out by last call. Fortunately Melanie was the responsible one, having only a few drinks to facilitate the casual mood, and brought us back home to Silver Spring. I woke up with my mouth rendered raw from having to vomit and suffering from the terribly bleating of a hangover.
Jeff and I spent his remaining days chatting and sharing imaginative ideas. We also played tennis against each other, and I was surprised at myself, being able to fend off many serves and finding myself in the immediate stalemate of a volley, waiting for a chance to seize or fail due to some miscalculation.
Mike Kelly, who has the limitless creativity of a child, is my other comrade at arms. We had a chance to sit down and share our own stories and I look forward to developing a new version of the much missed writing group of MSU (though we always have the internet...right Jaie?).
Now onto the real reason I am here, the continual search for a job. An undertaking so difficult I am earning to give up the petty rat race and seek out the mystical Spear of Destiny to obtain divinely routed power over man and the Earth,which seems as equally as unobtainable at this point. Rat race, those words are so true, and I only realize it after the fact. I know why people stick to drudgery in order to receive a paycheck. Money isn’t a plentiful commodity as one would suspect, especially one who has a college education and a sound mind. I spurn HR departments, a worthless exit strategy for those not content in bottling up their own misery. DC is headquarters to many major hotel companies (which I learned upon arriving here... to surprise... though the opportunity has yet to be pleasant), but I have only received rejections and "Thank you but you really must apply online" statements from thin smiles. Who are these phantom individuals I am competing against? I fear that my prolonged period of unemployment has rendered me entirely unemployable, like last chubby kid left over after two teams have formed for a game of dodgeball. "Why is the other guy not choosing him?" "He has too much mass and will be a big target!"
But enough with the negativity! I just need to vent my frustrations. Jeff came out here and fucking made it happen. I can too. The champions and heroes we admire are constant reminders that we are capable of more then the self constructed and narrow corridors we suffer through. Give up the drudgery and pursue an art.
I am waiting back to hear from American University (and every other university in the area) for a job. I am most excited for the gig because the pay would provide me enough to build a proper savings (rather then having a lone reservoir of funds with no inlet of cash flow) and the benefits are tremendous. Not to mention I would find myself in the literature department, and I would be surrounding by writers and people who teach the craft. That is the most ideal situation I am looking at right now. There is also a possibility for me to work along side Jeff at his Production Company, daily rate for a PA is 150 and steady work would guarantee 40k a year (give or take..).
So there you have it. I give birth to a new cover letter and revised resume every half hour, I am enjoying good company, and I am hopeful and enthusiastic that things will work out.
Now onto a more serious observation, because I said it needed to be done. A curious thing occurred to me the other day. While stepping off the metro and onto the raised platform, I continued to march along the crowd to the funneling point at the escalator. The escalator was shut down, so it was just fancy looking steps, but it did not prevent my body from lurching forward, compensating itself for the movement I was expecting. This happened to me several times and I began to think hard about it. Could it be that repeat experiences are imprinted in our minds? Why can I not immediately react to the stopped escalator? If I had myself blindfolded would I have gone down the escalator without the sensation of being lurched forward as though it was in motion?
A while back my philosopher at heart friend, Cyrus, introduced a strange idea to me. I believe it was called the concept of closure. The example provided to me by Cyrus was this: When Man A sees a tree stump, he sees a tree stump. Dying wood. Food for insects and bacteria perhaps. Man B sees the tree stump, and sees possibility. He sees a chair, a desk, a canvas to carve a drawing into. But why is it that some people see and experience one way, and others do not? It’s kind of frightening to think that at a young age my mind is flexible enough to provide context to any material item with my imagination. A rock can be a UFO. A hose a snake. A pile of wet dough can be the blob, consuming all my toy soldiers. And then to think that as we get older, this mind capable of flexing this way or that may become rigid. A pencil is not a toy mans sword, it is writing device and I have used it thus for the past 20 years. Maybe the stereotype of old people being unable to accept newly formed cultures, feeling intimidated by them is because of this fact.
Living the way that they have for so long builds on to this idea of what remains absolute, and to deviate is looked upon with disdain. Oh by the way, don’t tell my grandmother that I am pregnant before the marriage, she is old fashioned. What the hell does that mean? Being “old fashioned”?
With all this said, I will try to convince my mind to react accordingly. ( I did go off a slight tangent but I think all the ideas relate)
And that is the problem isn’t it? I can relate writing to math. No need to write out 1x + 1x + 1 x = y if 3x = y will do the trick. I was reading a book on writing and greatest advice offered (which I hear very often) is for your writing to be succinct (clear, concise, simple and uncomplicated). This of course leads to writing in your own style.
Never mind... that is a tangent I go down all too often. Real results need to be offered! I have been writing 3 short stories, taking turn working on one when I get frustrated with any of the others. I will post them up asap.
DC. What can be said about the epicenter of madness and politics? If politics is the art of controlling your environment then DC is a direct representation of that notion, with no building being taller then the peak height of the capital.
I received an amazing reception the first week of arriving. Jeff took me out to meet his future roomies; Ben, Anne, and Melanie. Ben who should be a comedian and owns two stuffed care bears, is a remarkable friendly and dignified human being. I was struck by the fact that he came to DC doing non profit work as a mentor for young Asian students in the area. I decided to pursue the idea of becoming a mentor and if I am able to find work in the area I will follow up with the next step and become trained and be paired with a young kid to bounce ideas off of and hopefully share moments of inspiration. Anne has this sort of valley girl accent, but is intelligent and fun to hang out with. She also has a weird fascination with Mao the Chinese leader (or dictator if your apart of that camp). I had spent considerable time with Melanie, helping her move her belongings from Bethesda (a name I have only recently conquered to pronunciate correctly..) to the new dwellings near china town. We had a considerable amount to talk about, both of us being raised by traditional immigrant families. I also burned of sizeable portion of the calories I had consumed that day.
There are others that cannot be forgotten. I met with Koko one late afternoon, out in Virginia, for a networking event he had invited me to attend. Virginia is quite different, seems like wealth is evenly distributed and the middle class is more widespread then the DC area. There I met a cool Director of Photography named Brian, who was one of the panelists discussing shooting in foreign countries. He mentioned his unfulfilled desire to do narratives with a fictional bend, I knew immediately that we should meet sometime there after and chat. That time is yet to come, but I look forward to it. I also hung out with the Rhed Pixel Editor, Xe, who was another down to earth fellow.
Then Koko brought me along to do a music video for a friend, as a favor whose precedent remains unknown to me. There I met Kyle, Nadia, Ali, and Marcio. They all seemed to speak Spanish and shared with me Mahti (sp?), a tea that is drunk in a communal cup shaped like a shrunken coconut with the top forth cut open. They all play risk. That is enough to buy me over as a friend.
The first weekend here I became quite ill, but it didn’t stop me from partying! The way I looked at it was this, Jeff leaves in a week and I had to cherish every opportunity to have fun and just share ideas. We went to a cool place called Café Citron, and tried to salsa! No one person in our group was very good, but that didn’t deter us from having a good time. In the shadow of the remarkably well, we attempted to mime the movements and learn through observation. Another night was spent at some Irish pun, consuming too much alcohol and nearing a complete black out by last call. Fortunately Melanie was the responsible one, having only a few drinks to facilitate the casual mood, and brought us back home to Silver Spring. I woke up with my mouth rendered raw from having to vomit and suffering from the terribly bleating of a hangover.
Jeff and I spent his remaining days chatting and sharing imaginative ideas. We also played tennis against each other, and I was surprised at myself, being able to fend off many serves and finding myself in the immediate stalemate of a volley, waiting for a chance to seize or fail due to some miscalculation.
Mike Kelly, who has the limitless creativity of a child, is my other comrade at arms. We had a chance to sit down and share our own stories and I look forward to developing a new version of the much missed writing group of MSU (though we always have the internet...right Jaie?).
Now onto the real reason I am here, the continual search for a job. An undertaking so difficult I am earning to give up the petty rat race and seek out the mystical Spear of Destiny to obtain divinely routed power over man and the Earth,which seems as equally as unobtainable at this point. Rat race, those words are so true, and I only realize it after the fact. I know why people stick to drudgery in order to receive a paycheck. Money isn’t a plentiful commodity as one would suspect, especially one who has a college education and a sound mind. I spurn HR departments, a worthless exit strategy for those not content in bottling up their own misery. DC is headquarters to many major hotel companies (which I learned upon arriving here... to surprise... though the opportunity has yet to be pleasant), but I have only received rejections and "Thank you but you really must apply online" statements from thin smiles. Who are these phantom individuals I am competing against? I fear that my prolonged period of unemployment has rendered me entirely unemployable, like last chubby kid left over after two teams have formed for a game of dodgeball. "Why is the other guy not choosing him?" "He has too much mass and will be a big target!"
But enough with the negativity! I just need to vent my frustrations. Jeff came out here and fucking made it happen. I can too. The champions and heroes we admire are constant reminders that we are capable of more then the self constructed and narrow corridors we suffer through. Give up the drudgery and pursue an art.
I am waiting back to hear from American University (and every other university in the area) for a job. I am most excited for the gig because the pay would provide me enough to build a proper savings (rather then having a lone reservoir of funds with no inlet of cash flow) and the benefits are tremendous. Not to mention I would find myself in the literature department, and I would be surrounding by writers and people who teach the craft. That is the most ideal situation I am looking at right now. There is also a possibility for me to work along side Jeff at his Production Company, daily rate for a PA is 150 and steady work would guarantee 40k a year (give or take..).
So there you have it. I give birth to a new cover letter and revised resume every half hour, I am enjoying good company, and I am hopeful and enthusiastic that things will work out.
Now onto a more serious observation, because I said it needed to be done. A curious thing occurred to me the other day. While stepping off the metro and onto the raised platform, I continued to march along the crowd to the funneling point at the escalator. The escalator was shut down, so it was just fancy looking steps, but it did not prevent my body from lurching forward, compensating itself for the movement I was expecting. This happened to me several times and I began to think hard about it. Could it be that repeat experiences are imprinted in our minds? Why can I not immediately react to the stopped escalator? If I had myself blindfolded would I have gone down the escalator without the sensation of being lurched forward as though it was in motion?
A while back my philosopher at heart friend, Cyrus, introduced a strange idea to me. I believe it was called the concept of closure. The example provided to me by Cyrus was this: When Man A sees a tree stump, he sees a tree stump. Dying wood. Food for insects and bacteria perhaps. Man B sees the tree stump, and sees possibility. He sees a chair, a desk, a canvas to carve a drawing into. But why is it that some people see and experience one way, and others do not? It’s kind of frightening to think that at a young age my mind is flexible enough to provide context to any material item with my imagination. A rock can be a UFO. A hose a snake. A pile of wet dough can be the blob, consuming all my toy soldiers. And then to think that as we get older, this mind capable of flexing this way or that may become rigid. A pencil is not a toy mans sword, it is writing device and I have used it thus for the past 20 years. Maybe the stereotype of old people being unable to accept newly formed cultures, feeling intimidated by them is because of this fact.
Living the way that they have for so long builds on to this idea of what remains absolute, and to deviate is looked upon with disdain. Oh by the way, don’t tell my grandmother that I am pregnant before the marriage, she is old fashioned. What the hell does that mean? Being “old fashioned”?
With all this said, I will try to convince my mind to react accordingly. ( I did go off a slight tangent but I think all the ideas relate)