I remember being young, daydreaming about a life of adulthood; I would have a car, a modest house, and enough "extra" cash to eventually be able to travel a bit (even if just to Vermont for the weekend). Yes, I was already reaching for the stars. The good news? I'm basically there. And have definitely been there before. Is it my ever-present realism? Is it my ability to shut down, kick ass and pick myself back up? Or perhaps just the strong work ethic inherited from my mother and father? Maybe a healthy mix of all three.
Along with an unhealthy amount of courage.
If ever I find myself once again descending down the pit of low esteem, if ever should I fall, I hope that I will be able to remember such times; times when my boot (and my boot alone) was the one that kicked the ass. Times when there was no caring parent, childhood home or friends to fall back on. I sincerely hope that I am allowing of my error, no matter how large. On the off-chance that I am not...
Dear future-self,
Remember that time when you accepted that invite to go somewhere new, by yourself? You know the time; when you opted for the sketch-ass ghetto part of town, where the only inhabitants were the drug-addled and the ones making money off of them? Oh, c'mon, you must recall the late nights, driving "home" from work at 1:00am (or somewhere around there), fearing for your life as you clutched your mace in one hand, metal bat in the other? Dodging strange men twice your size to get to your apartment building, only to have them follow you in for a bit? The first skill you acquired was not that of matching guests' names to their faces at the restaurant, nor was it the art of balancing those enormous martinis without spill; it was the art of "not existing" that you mastered first, there. The less you exist, the less trouble you get into, the less immediate danger you're in. You learn pretty fast, kiddo. You didn't fall into unhealthy habits, in fact! You lessened the amount of booze, cigarettes and crap food you ingested. And dodged some drug bullshit while you were at it. And not only did you do a great job out of work; you killed it at the restaurant, as well. Guests got along with you, co-workers (for the most part) got along with you and you learned a whole new way of serving. You made do with the insane amount of hours you were handed and you earned an unusual amount of money. You went home to see your family on every day off, you didn't go out to spend all of the money you earned while you were down there, you bought a damn 5-year-old PERFECT dream car that you decided you wanted and you saved up over four grand. Nobody told you to do any of this, let alone give you pointers on how to do so; you just decided to do it. And you freaking nailed it.
Just sayin'.
Sin-focken-cerely,
past-self.
Does it sound like I'm up my own ass? Couldn't care less. Because sometimes you have to be your own biggest fan. You wanna save money? Do it. You want a different job? Apply. You wanna travel a bit? Make it happen, Cap'n. The objects in your way are mobile. And if they're not, they're temporary.
Saturday, September 15, 2018
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Television
I think I took the fact that I was raised with a television for granted.
Don't get me wrong; there was no shortage of appreciation for what I had (from cable, to a house, to the food I consumed), I just mean purely from a social standpoint. I grew up learning the dialogue to Seinfeld, impersonating Ace Ventura's catch phrases and quoting nearly every David Spade one-liner. Where did this get me? No place of impressive rank, of course (you can't get nominated for being the best copycat of once-brilliant wit). But it did train me to be the funny one. It was like comedy pre-school; the first lesson being that you love making people laugh. Lesson two: you might have to embarrass yourself from time to time in order to do so. Last but not least; you learn why the things on your favorite sitcom are funny and you just tailor the details to your audience. This was great! I had discovered the formula! I unintentionally made friends with this? And I didn't even have to be good-looking or smart? I just had to bring up Friends and people would like me? Oh, man. FAN-TAS-TIC.
And so began my foundation for socialization. I no longer needed outdoor activity and incredible life experience; I had film to discuss. It worked, sure, but it was all I knew. Twenty-something years later, it is still all I know (put all my eggs in the basket), and something terrifying has happened; I realized this year that...
I no longer watch TV.
When I say I no longer watch TV, that is not to say that I have began the latest boycott or have in any way sworn it off, no. All I mean is that I just don't happen to watch it. Like most other things in my life, my relationship with this activity is very passive. I have only on incredibly rare occasion been the person to purposefully carve out a chunk of time to dedicate myself to sitting in front of the boob-tube (possibly my least favorite and most distracting term for it). My mother, sister, father all loved television and were all older than me, so it felt like there was simply no use in making an attempt to elbow my way in. You guys watch what you want. I'll be over here drawing.
As I grew up and experienced some strange living situations, I never really had to buy a TV (someone always had one already, and having two of them in a shabby apartment hardly seemed the thing to do). By the time I lived on my own I had better things to focus on (working multiple jobs, remembering to eat, sleeping when I could). I have moved so many times and have always seemed to have gotten too terribly distracted, which resulted, of course, in never purchasing a television.
Now that I am relaxed, back in town and - for the first time in about one hundred years - am working part-time, I have time on my hands! It is only now that I am recognizing how people can fall so dependent on these entertaining screens. Whether it's cable, Netflix, YouTube; I get it. It's nice to have something to look at. Or even have playing melodically in the background as you are making dinner or cleaning. I will also say, however, that it is quite the danger; good luck getting anything done, ever. Your time flies by faster, you stay up later, before you know it you're exhausted and you have nothing to wear to work because you have't done laundry in three weeks. Aren't you so glad you caught that Will & Grace rerun marathon??
It's one thing living without wi-fi and a television when you are keeping your head down and not being terribly social. It is another entirely once you make the time to catch up with one of your friends.
"You don't have wi-fi?"
"So... you haven't caught the latest Game of Thrones."
"What do you do all day?"
Well, read, for starters. And everything else adults used to do, I suppose. It is awfully nice to be able to relax on purpose without anything really distracting you or taking away from it. And this lifestyle teaches a person to be creative when finding alternative activities, and it promotes peace and gratitude for the simple pleasure of quiet down time. My place is clean, meals are prepped, laundry is always done... The drawback? Congratulations! You now have nothing to talk to your pals about. You may try to pull out a rusty punchline from an old nineties sitcom - y'know, from when you actually watched TV - but don't expect that dusty Just Shoot Me reference to land. You'll have much better luck with something from Rick & Morty.
Don't get me wrong; there was no shortage of appreciation for what I had (from cable, to a house, to the food I consumed), I just mean purely from a social standpoint. I grew up learning the dialogue to Seinfeld, impersonating Ace Ventura's catch phrases and quoting nearly every David Spade one-liner. Where did this get me? No place of impressive rank, of course (you can't get nominated for being the best copycat of once-brilliant wit). But it did train me to be the funny one. It was like comedy pre-school; the first lesson being that you love making people laugh. Lesson two: you might have to embarrass yourself from time to time in order to do so. Last but not least; you learn why the things on your favorite sitcom are funny and you just tailor the details to your audience. This was great! I had discovered the formula! I unintentionally made friends with this? And I didn't even have to be good-looking or smart? I just had to bring up Friends and people would like me? Oh, man. FAN-TAS-TIC.
And so began my foundation for socialization. I no longer needed outdoor activity and incredible life experience; I had film to discuss. It worked, sure, but it was all I knew. Twenty-something years later, it is still all I know (put all my eggs in the basket), and something terrifying has happened; I realized this year that...
I no longer watch TV.
When I say I no longer watch TV, that is not to say that I have began the latest boycott or have in any way sworn it off, no. All I mean is that I just don't happen to watch it. Like most other things in my life, my relationship with this activity is very passive. I have only on incredibly rare occasion been the person to purposefully carve out a chunk of time to dedicate myself to sitting in front of the boob-tube (possibly my least favorite and most distracting term for it). My mother, sister, father all loved television and were all older than me, so it felt like there was simply no use in making an attempt to elbow my way in. You guys watch what you want. I'll be over here drawing.
As I grew up and experienced some strange living situations, I never really had to buy a TV (someone always had one already, and having two of them in a shabby apartment hardly seemed the thing to do). By the time I lived on my own I had better things to focus on (working multiple jobs, remembering to eat, sleeping when I could). I have moved so many times and have always seemed to have gotten too terribly distracted, which resulted, of course, in never purchasing a television.
Now that I am relaxed, back in town and - for the first time in about one hundred years - am working part-time, I have time on my hands! It is only now that I am recognizing how people can fall so dependent on these entertaining screens. Whether it's cable, Netflix, YouTube; I get it. It's nice to have something to look at. Or even have playing melodically in the background as you are making dinner or cleaning. I will also say, however, that it is quite the danger; good luck getting anything done, ever. Your time flies by faster, you stay up later, before you know it you're exhausted and you have nothing to wear to work because you have't done laundry in three weeks. Aren't you so glad you caught that Will & Grace rerun marathon??
It's one thing living without wi-fi and a television when you are keeping your head down and not being terribly social. It is another entirely once you make the time to catch up with one of your friends.
"You don't have wi-fi?"
"So... you haven't caught the latest Game of Thrones."
"What do you do all day?"
Well, read, for starters. And everything else adults used to do, I suppose. It is awfully nice to be able to relax on purpose without anything really distracting you or taking away from it. And this lifestyle teaches a person to be creative when finding alternative activities, and it promotes peace and gratitude for the simple pleasure of quiet down time. My place is clean, meals are prepped, laundry is always done... The drawback? Congratulations! You now have nothing to talk to your pals about. You may try to pull out a rusty punchline from an old nineties sitcom - y'know, from when you actually watched TV - but don't expect that dusty Just Shoot Me reference to land. You'll have much better luck with something from Rick & Morty.
Age: For Consideration
It is as if I have forgotten how old I am.
Is this likely to keep happening? Because it seems unsafe. Last summer I was able to grasp the fact that I was no longer a late-teen/early-twenty-something as I quickly exhausted my ability to recoup after a 50-hour work week (thank you, seasonal restaurant). I had given them great work for a stretch, meanwhile my body eroded into beach sand. I got a fever, I got the flu - the only thing I didn't get was sleep. I was eating better, doing my research on wellness, not going out and drinking/partying, and yet here I was ready to hear my eulogy. Finally I asked my co-worker how she and her friends were able to do this sort of thing and recharge so easily? After all, it wasn't like this was my first time with 50+ hours, at a restaurant or under pressure. Then she gave me my answer:
"...Well, I mean... you are like ten years older than most of us..."
Ah.
Somehow life had gotten away from me, zipped by and the next thing I knew; I was nearly the oldest person sporting a denim apron. She was right! I was old! Not old for this world, of course; the Basilica boasts a Holy 500 years or so. But I was officially at the spot where I would need to give my consideration. I was too old for certain things. Wanna go for a bagel? Sure, I'm good with that. Wanna book a last-minute flight? Sounds great. Wanna feel rested while working more than 40 hours a week, on your feet in a fast-paced, mentally draining customer-service driven job? Now you've gone too far.
Now don't get me wrong - this "for consideration" age is likely different for everyone. Some, God bless them, may never reach this age - forever youthful. I am not one of these "some". So what did I do with that information? Left the seasonal noise to retire to a quiet, mind-meltingly slow-paced office job for the local Chamber of Commerce. Set schedule. No nights or weekends. Holidays off. Days surrounding the holidays off. And the only time I remember being on my feet for long was when I had to make the trek from my ergonomically correct swivel chair to the heated bathroom. It had its nice aspects, but naturally that only lasted until I chose to forget what I had learned entirely and move onto another exciting scenario.
I still have a nice, beautifully calm office environment in the morning, but that was only part-time. So obviously it was only a matter of time before I mucked up the calm in my life by choosing to apply to a retail job where I would be working on my feet all day, get mentally drained by customers and be in the building until about 11pm. I will say that it was necessary for me to fill the gaps. A grown (ish) person cannot expect to live comfortably on part-time alone. Not to mention I would eventually get bored out of my mind, which would lead to brain fizzles. Plus this retail job really seems different from the others I have worked at. It's like I've completed the taxing office and customer service side of things and now I get to enjoy dessert. It will keep me out of trouble. The paychecks will be nice. But how long will it be until I ask a co-worker why I'm so tired again?
Something for consideration.
Is this likely to keep happening? Because it seems unsafe. Last summer I was able to grasp the fact that I was no longer a late-teen/early-twenty-something as I quickly exhausted my ability to recoup after a 50-hour work week (thank you, seasonal restaurant). I had given them great work for a stretch, meanwhile my body eroded into beach sand. I got a fever, I got the flu - the only thing I didn't get was sleep. I was eating better, doing my research on wellness, not going out and drinking/partying, and yet here I was ready to hear my eulogy. Finally I asked my co-worker how she and her friends were able to do this sort of thing and recharge so easily? After all, it wasn't like this was my first time with 50+ hours, at a restaurant or under pressure. Then she gave me my answer:
"...Well, I mean... you are like ten years older than most of us..."
Ah.
Somehow life had gotten away from me, zipped by and the next thing I knew; I was nearly the oldest person sporting a denim apron. She was right! I was old! Not old for this world, of course; the Basilica boasts a Holy 500 years or so. But I was officially at the spot where I would need to give my consideration. I was too old for certain things. Wanna go for a bagel? Sure, I'm good with that. Wanna book a last-minute flight? Sounds great. Wanna feel rested while working more than 40 hours a week, on your feet in a fast-paced, mentally draining customer-service driven job? Now you've gone too far.
Now don't get me wrong - this "for consideration" age is likely different for everyone. Some, God bless them, may never reach this age - forever youthful. I am not one of these "some". So what did I do with that information? Left the seasonal noise to retire to a quiet, mind-meltingly slow-paced office job for the local Chamber of Commerce. Set schedule. No nights or weekends. Holidays off. Days surrounding the holidays off. And the only time I remember being on my feet for long was when I had to make the trek from my ergonomically correct swivel chair to the heated bathroom. It had its nice aspects, but naturally that only lasted until I chose to forget what I had learned entirely and move onto another exciting scenario.
I still have a nice, beautifully calm office environment in the morning, but that was only part-time. So obviously it was only a matter of time before I mucked up the calm in my life by choosing to apply to a retail job where I would be working on my feet all day, get mentally drained by customers and be in the building until about 11pm. I will say that it was necessary for me to fill the gaps. A grown (ish) person cannot expect to live comfortably on part-time alone. Not to mention I would eventually get bored out of my mind, which would lead to brain fizzles. Plus this retail job really seems different from the others I have worked at. It's like I've completed the taxing office and customer service side of things and now I get to enjoy dessert. It will keep me out of trouble. The paychecks will be nice. But how long will it be until I ask a co-worker why I'm so tired again?
Something for consideration.
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