After about a year of thinking about it, I'm shutting down FBB. I thought for a long time that I was just taking a break but now it's clear that it's over. I think of entries and write them in my head, like I used to, but now they float right out of my brain after I've "written" them. They don't linger like they used to, pestering me until I put them on the page for you all to read. The reason, I think, is clear.
I started this blog a few years ago as a way to make me write, on a daily basis, and as a way to counter my corporate existence. Now, I write daily on my scripts and I no longer have the corporate life. Weird how that works. Perhaps the blog willed my new life into existence. Now when I have thoughts that I might have explored in the blog, I explore them in my stories or jot them in a journal to be explored another time. The personal exposure got me into a bit of trouble as well and turned me off of the full disclosure feeling of the blog. But again, a script is as personal as writing can be and everything I am not putting down here will end up at some point on the page.
Thank you dear friends and readers! This site will remain archived at: http://fluffybunnybutts.blogspot.com/.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Friday, August 8, 2008
An artist in corporate clothing
Last week I interviewed for job I'm still being considered for here in the Bay Area. It's another one of these marketing meets filmmaking type positions, that in reality is all project management with enough marketing for me to convince myself it's a creative job and enough connection to filmmaking to convince myself that it's related to what I'm really interested in. They told me that two people would be selected from this round to meet the SVP of Marketing and then the decision would be made. I got an email right away that I was one of those two.
This is the job that I gave the presentation for and had a sick feeling afterwards. I thought they were they were not enthused with my ideas, I thought they were grilling me because they didn't think I was qualified. Neither was true. I'm realizing now that everything that happens, is happening inside me. What I see on the outside is only a reflection of what's happening in my mind. It may or may not even be happening!
It occurred to me that I still didn't know why I was even continuing to interview for it. I wondered if it was because I don't like to leave things undone and I didn't want to walk away from an opportunity without understanding fully what the opportunity was. Maybe I thought if they made me a good offer, I'd stay for a little while and do my thing later. "Do my thing later?" Then I realized I didn't even know what the salary range was for this position. When the HR assistant emailed me to set up the next interview, I asked. The salary range was far below what I was expecting and what I would have asked for. Interesting.
Now, all of a sudden, it seems easier to walk away from this position. It becomes the final vote to do my own thing. But it wasn't! Somehow this threw me into an even crazier loop because it made me start to understand that it really doesn't matter whether I have a job or how much the job pays. I reviewed the benefits for the company: Three weeks vacation, over a week of holidays and the time between Christmas and New Year off, free gym and classes, free lunch twice a week, flexible work weeks, free counseling, first time home buying assistance, a $5,000 rebate if you buy a hybrid, paid jury duty and volunteer hours, discounts, free tickets, on and on and on. This is why people want to work there. This is why they can hire people who are over qualified and pay them less than they're used to getting. It's not a stepping stone to something else, this is a lifestyle.
After a talk with the HR gal, she said she could add $10k to the top end of the range and with the potential 20% bonus, it was within $8k of the low end of my range. I felt my throat clench and my stomach turn. I felt myself in danger of considering this job (that I haven't been offered yet) even as everything that came out of my mouth was meant to get them to go away. It was like when I was trying to break up with the last guy I dated: he was perfect on paper but he made my stomach turn. I decided to go to the last interview anyway, wait for the offer and then consider it. The SVP asked me very directly why I wanted the job. My answer was weird, weak and unconvincing, even to me. I couldn't think of a reason in the world why anyone would want this job. All of a sudden it made sense why they keep asking me that question.
A friend of mine asked me the same question only an hour earlier and my answer to her was honest. For this and the last three jobs I've considered, I wanted them "because of the potential that it could help my film career." That was my only answer. I couldn't believe it. How absurd! I'm too afraid to pursue what I really want so I look for it in a job. There's a part of me that wishes I could just get a job in a great company like this one, buy a house, meet a guy, get married and make a bunch of babies and friends who like to ski and camp and take trips together. As the years pass, however, more of me begins to accept that I'm just not that person. I'm an artist. I have more ideas than could ever be utilized in a job and at the end of the day, the only thing that matters to me is expressing myself. I can live without the other stuff but living a life without sharing my ideas and creating art with like minded people isn't living; it's dying a slow, comfortable death. I've spent the last three years discovering what came to me yesterday afternoon in an instant. I *don't* want that job, I never did and no one is convinced that I do, even if they see how my ideas and energy could benefit their company.
Starting my own business is also, I realize, not a means to financial independence in the usual sense. I'm not looking for a business idea that will make me rich. Living in this world of tech startups and VC capital has made me think that I probably could. I certainly have the ideas and smarts and enough talented friends to make it happen, but it isn't what I want. What I want is to make movies. That's it. Documentaries, shorts, features, low budget, big budget, webisodes, it doesn't really matter, as long as it's a film. I had a boss once who said my problem was I have "too much potential." He said that it would be hard for me to stay committed to art because I was capable of too many other things. He said that in 2002. It's true that choice can be paralyzing. It is extremely difficult to intentionally give up the earning potential of a steady career to be an artist. There's no clear path, no guarantee of success and no automatic respect in title.
When I get emails from actor friends, desperate for a job because they're flat broke, or when I hear filmmakers talking about spending everything they have on a film that didn't pay out, it scares me. This is a life of poverty and uncertainty, sometimes temporary, sometimes not. All of this time I've been accusing myself of running away from security, responsibility and commitment because I didn't have a solid career, a husband and a house. It turns out, I'm not not running away from anything, I'm just fumbling towards where I belong. The truth is, I do want those things, but not at the cost of giving up who I am.
This is the job that I gave the presentation for and had a sick feeling afterwards. I thought they were they were not enthused with my ideas, I thought they were grilling me because they didn't think I was qualified. Neither was true. I'm realizing now that everything that happens, is happening inside me. What I see on the outside is only a reflection of what's happening in my mind. It may or may not even be happening!
It occurred to me that I still didn't know why I was even continuing to interview for it. I wondered if it was because I don't like to leave things undone and I didn't want to walk away from an opportunity without understanding fully what the opportunity was. Maybe I thought if they made me a good offer, I'd stay for a little while and do my thing later. "Do my thing later?" Then I realized I didn't even know what the salary range was for this position. When the HR assistant emailed me to set up the next interview, I asked. The salary range was far below what I was expecting and what I would have asked for. Interesting.
Now, all of a sudden, it seems easier to walk away from this position. It becomes the final vote to do my own thing. But it wasn't! Somehow this threw me into an even crazier loop because it made me start to understand that it really doesn't matter whether I have a job or how much the job pays. I reviewed the benefits for the company: Three weeks vacation, over a week of holidays and the time between Christmas and New Year off, free gym and classes, free lunch twice a week, flexible work weeks, free counseling, first time home buying assistance, a $5,000 rebate if you buy a hybrid, paid jury duty and volunteer hours, discounts, free tickets, on and on and on. This is why people want to work there. This is why they can hire people who are over qualified and pay them less than they're used to getting. It's not a stepping stone to something else, this is a lifestyle.
After a talk with the HR gal, she said she could add $10k to the top end of the range and with the potential 20% bonus, it was within $8k of the low end of my range. I felt my throat clench and my stomach turn. I felt myself in danger of considering this job (that I haven't been offered yet) even as everything that came out of my mouth was meant to get them to go away. It was like when I was trying to break up with the last guy I dated: he was perfect on paper but he made my stomach turn. I decided to go to the last interview anyway, wait for the offer and then consider it. The SVP asked me very directly why I wanted the job. My answer was weird, weak and unconvincing, even to me. I couldn't think of a reason in the world why anyone would want this job. All of a sudden it made sense why they keep asking me that question.
A friend of mine asked me the same question only an hour earlier and my answer to her was honest. For this and the last three jobs I've considered, I wanted them "because of the potential that it could help my film career." That was my only answer. I couldn't believe it. How absurd! I'm too afraid to pursue what I really want so I look for it in a job. There's a part of me that wishes I could just get a job in a great company like this one, buy a house, meet a guy, get married and make a bunch of babies and friends who like to ski and camp and take trips together. As the years pass, however, more of me begins to accept that I'm just not that person. I'm an artist. I have more ideas than could ever be utilized in a job and at the end of the day, the only thing that matters to me is expressing myself. I can live without the other stuff but living a life without sharing my ideas and creating art with like minded people isn't living; it's dying a slow, comfortable death. I've spent the last three years discovering what came to me yesterday afternoon in an instant. I *don't* want that job, I never did and no one is convinced that I do, even if they see how my ideas and energy could benefit their company.
Starting my own business is also, I realize, not a means to financial independence in the usual sense. I'm not looking for a business idea that will make me rich. Living in this world of tech startups and VC capital has made me think that I probably could. I certainly have the ideas and smarts and enough talented friends to make it happen, but it isn't what I want. What I want is to make movies. That's it. Documentaries, shorts, features, low budget, big budget, webisodes, it doesn't really matter, as long as it's a film. I had a boss once who said my problem was I have "too much potential." He said that it would be hard for me to stay committed to art because I was capable of too many other things. He said that in 2002. It's true that choice can be paralyzing. It is extremely difficult to intentionally give up the earning potential of a steady career to be an artist. There's no clear path, no guarantee of success and no automatic respect in title.
When I get emails from actor friends, desperate for a job because they're flat broke, or when I hear filmmakers talking about spending everything they have on a film that didn't pay out, it scares me. This is a life of poverty and uncertainty, sometimes temporary, sometimes not. All of this time I've been accusing myself of running away from security, responsibility and commitment because I didn't have a solid career, a husband and a house. It turns out, I'm not not running away from anything, I'm just fumbling towards where I belong. The truth is, I do want those things, but not at the cost of giving up who I am.
Friday, July 18, 2008
It's official
This has been a difficult blog post to write. After three weeks of deliberation and two weeks of drafts on this post, I've decided to leave to San Francisco. There are so many things about this city that I love, I am very sad to leave it. It's a culturally vibrant, cosmopolitan city with liberal sensibilities, incredible food and a kick-ass public transit system. Masses of people commute by bicycle. On every doorstep there are plants in pots: exotic flowers, fruit trees, vegetables and even grapevines!
I remember a friend of mine who bought a house in Silverlake, Los Angeles, and within a few days, the potted plants she put on her porch were stolen. In San Francisco, the streets are clean, Europeans love to visit it, the air is fresh and it's surrounded by the ocean, a bay, mountains and redwood forests. Yes, I will miss it. I will miss my local farmer's market, walking to visit my friend Sharon in Hayes Valley, eating amazing food in little hole-in-the-wall restaurants like the vegetarian Japanese place Cha-Ya, getting to museums downtown in twenty minutes on the BART, picking up my freshly roasted and freshly ground coffee at Ritual Coffee and the cute boys who ride by on bicycles. The only things I won't miss are the fire trucks that scream by my apartment five times a day and freezing year-round.
A year ago, when I left L.A., I was contemplating the same decision I'm making now. I was unemployed and looking for a job. I didn't want any of the jobs I was qualified for and didn't even want most the ones I wasn't qualified for. I wondered what was wrong with me. Was I afraid? Lazy? Unambitious? The fact is, I had stopped pursuing acting, something I spent five years on, but didn't really have the opportunity to figure out what was next. What was next? Now, a year later, I'm fighting the same problem. I've been out of work for over three months. I've applied for jobs, I've worked my contacts, I've finessed the resume, I've gone to interviews and prepared presentations but still at the end of the day, I know that I'm not working very hard for it. I don't REALLY want these jobs and more and more I feel my life slipping away.
If I have a job, it's not that difficult to keep on keepin' on and just do the job. In fact, I care about my work, I enjoy work and I don't have a problem getting up and going but being out of work suddenly challenges me. Devoting a day to pursuing a job I don't want is ten times more difficult than just doing the job I don't want. Instead my interests have taken over and I've found the bulk of my time being spent planting a garden, taking photos, making a music video with a collaborator, making a video for Amnesty International, writing copy and developing strategy for a non-profit, volunteering for Taproot, uploading my video clips to YouTube and watching documentaries on Netflix. It turns out, I enjoy marketing much more when I'm volunteering my time. Why? Because it's my time to give, no one owns me.
I know that I am one of the privileged of the world, a person who has choices. Even when I've felt myself under stress, confused and sometimes depressed, I still know that I am happier, more optimistic and more capable than so many other people. At times, I have let the guilt of wanting more keep me from being what I want, from doing what I want. It has always been easy for me to say what I don't want. Maybe it's a because my father was controlling but I could always say "no": quit, leave, break up and take off, anytime. Embarking on a path towards doing something though, saying "yes" has always been extremely difficult. So that's where I am now. It's not the leaving that I'm afraid of, it's what comes after.
The truth is, I'm afraid. Afraid of not knowing what I want, afraid of failing to achieve what I want, afraid of disappointing the people I love, afraid of wasting my life. It's taken me several years to come to this decision, a decision to figure out what's next. What can I put my heart towards that will sustain me, financially and emotionally? That is the question I am embarking on a journey to answer. For the time being, I will move in with my mom. I'll stay with her as long as I need to find my path, launch a business, make a film, write a script or whatever it is I'm meant to do. I will reconcile myself to the fact that I'll be living at home with mom when I got to my 20th high school reunion later this year. I have to let go of my pride, banish fear and embrace my own potential. That journey begins now.
I just finished watching the first season of Mad Men and there's a great quote by Peggy, the secretary who finds herself taking on a career as a copywriter, something unheard for a woman in the ad world. She's on a date with a boy from "back home" and when he snips that "those people" in Manhattan aren't better than us she says: “Those people in Manhattan? “They are better than us. They want things they haven’t seen.”
I remember a friend of mine who bought a house in Silverlake, Los Angeles, and within a few days, the potted plants she put on her porch were stolen. In San Francisco, the streets are clean, Europeans love to visit it, the air is fresh and it's surrounded by the ocean, a bay, mountains and redwood forests. Yes, I will miss it. I will miss my local farmer's market, walking to visit my friend Sharon in Hayes Valley, eating amazing food in little hole-in-the-wall restaurants like the vegetarian Japanese place Cha-Ya, getting to museums downtown in twenty minutes on the BART, picking up my freshly roasted and freshly ground coffee at Ritual Coffee and the cute boys who ride by on bicycles. The only things I won't miss are the fire trucks that scream by my apartment five times a day and freezing year-round.
A year ago, when I left L.A., I was contemplating the same decision I'm making now. I was unemployed and looking for a job. I didn't want any of the jobs I was qualified for and didn't even want most the ones I wasn't qualified for. I wondered what was wrong with me. Was I afraid? Lazy? Unambitious? The fact is, I had stopped pursuing acting, something I spent five years on, but didn't really have the opportunity to figure out what was next. What was next? Now, a year later, I'm fighting the same problem. I've been out of work for over three months. I've applied for jobs, I've worked my contacts, I've finessed the resume, I've gone to interviews and prepared presentations but still at the end of the day, I know that I'm not working very hard for it. I don't REALLY want these jobs and more and more I feel my life slipping away.
If I have a job, it's not that difficult to keep on keepin' on and just do the job. In fact, I care about my work, I enjoy work and I don't have a problem getting up and going but being out of work suddenly challenges me. Devoting a day to pursuing a job I don't want is ten times more difficult than just doing the job I don't want. Instead my interests have taken over and I've found the bulk of my time being spent planting a garden, taking photos, making a music video with a collaborator, making a video for Amnesty International, writing copy and developing strategy for a non-profit, volunteering for Taproot, uploading my video clips to YouTube and watching documentaries on Netflix. It turns out, I enjoy marketing much more when I'm volunteering my time. Why? Because it's my time to give, no one owns me.
I know that I am one of the privileged of the world, a person who has choices. Even when I've felt myself under stress, confused and sometimes depressed, I still know that I am happier, more optimistic and more capable than so many other people. At times, I have let the guilt of wanting more keep me from being what I want, from doing what I want. It has always been easy for me to say what I don't want. Maybe it's a because my father was controlling but I could always say "no": quit, leave, break up and take off, anytime. Embarking on a path towards doing something though, saying "yes" has always been extremely difficult. So that's where I am now. It's not the leaving that I'm afraid of, it's what comes after.
The truth is, I'm afraid. Afraid of not knowing what I want, afraid of failing to achieve what I want, afraid of disappointing the people I love, afraid of wasting my life. It's taken me several years to come to this decision, a decision to figure out what's next. What can I put my heart towards that will sustain me, financially and emotionally? That is the question I am embarking on a journey to answer. For the time being, I will move in with my mom. I'll stay with her as long as I need to find my path, launch a business, make a film, write a script or whatever it is I'm meant to do. I will reconcile myself to the fact that I'll be living at home with mom when I got to my 20th high school reunion later this year. I have to let go of my pride, banish fear and embrace my own potential. That journey begins now.
I just finished watching the first season of Mad Men and there's a great quote by Peggy, the secretary who finds herself taking on a career as a copywriter, something unheard for a woman in the ad world. She's on a date with a boy from "back home" and when he snips that "those people" in Manhattan aren't better than us she says: “Those people in Manhattan? “They are better than us. They want things they haven’t seen.”
Friday, March 7, 2008
Lessons from the week
I haven't blogged in over a week, putting in my first March post at the end of its first week, and I'm not going to flog myself over it. I'm not Catholic so why do I live with so much guilt? I just keep wondering when I got to be so flaky. I used to have lists and goals and always knew what I wanted and where I was going. Then somewhere along the way I looked up and I was lost. I looked back down at what I thought was my map but it there was nothing on it except a couple of things from a "to do" list crossed off. Get a degree, travel in another country, move to another city, become an actress, make a film, find true love. Huh, now what? LESSON: There's never been a map. Get used to it.
There's a stone around my neck about this documentary that I volunteered to make for a non-profit in June. I then promptly moved and proceeded to put it off for about six months. Now it's due and I'm utterly uninspired by the footage they've sent me and pushing much to hard to figure out how to tie it all together. I keep thinking brilliant inspiration is right around the corner. In the middle of trying to make that movie, I made a little movie for the Bicycle Film Festival. Shot it, edited it, recorded voice over, even got a friend to make a soundtrack, burned a DVD and submitted it - in about two days. Today, I got a call from the woman at the non-profit. Crystal Light hired a production company (real filmmakers!) to make their own movie and she wants me to hold off for a while until we see what they're doing, and thanked for my flexibility! All this time I've been feeling guilty and she's thanking me. LESSON: Guilt is a waste of time. So is waiting for inspiration.
I read this great article about the advertising world and how mean the industry is. I was so thrilled that someone was finally saying it's not cool anymore. After a work experience at a small ad agency that left a very bad taste in my mouth, it's refreshing to hear an industry insider chastise these guys for "ad campaigns based on a hardening spirit, a lack of tolerance and an egocentric meanness that characterizes so much of today's advertising." It's not like I'm one of those goody two-shoes who only wants nice things in the world (or maybe I am!) but advertising is particularly rude, sexist, insulting and seems to delight itself in humiliating others. As someone who has auditioned for commercials, worked with the people writing them, and worked for the "client", I've seen it inside and out. Ad guys (and they are almost all men) conduct a brainstorm meeting like a pow-wow in the locker room after a game. The things I used to hear these guys say in would make their wives divorce them. The writer ends the article by saying that "it behooves marketing professionals to understand the difference between subtle irony and idiot snideness and aim for an advertising denominator cognizant of the maxim that expansive, confident consumers part with their cash far more readily than do angry, fearful ones." Shortly thereafter, I saw the film "Be Kind, Rewind," and realized walking out of it that it was actually, and truly, a film about kindness. No one was made fun of or belittled, no one acts like an ass for our amusement, no one is called ugly or fat and yet no one is held up as the ideal for us to worship. It's a movie about regular people coming together to make something beautiful. LESSON: Kindness is cool!
After all my blah-blah'ing about not caring that only 12 people read my blog, I have to say that I still wish my blog would show up in Blogger's "blogs of Note." There are some pretty cool ones in there and they prove my theory that popular blogs have shorter postings, more frequent postings, a single theme (a garden, photos of Paris) and lots of pictures! People like pictures. So I'm going to try that. Instead of not posting because I'm composing some big essay on things I know nothing about, I'll just post a photo and some tidbit. LESSON: Keep it simple.
There's a stone around my neck about this documentary that I volunteered to make for a non-profit in June. I then promptly moved and proceeded to put it off for about six months. Now it's due and I'm utterly uninspired by the footage they've sent me and pushing much to hard to figure out how to tie it all together. I keep thinking brilliant inspiration is right around the corner. In the middle of trying to make that movie, I made a little movie for the Bicycle Film Festival. Shot it, edited it, recorded voice over, even got a friend to make a soundtrack, burned a DVD and submitted it - in about two days. Today, I got a call from the woman at the non-profit. Crystal Light hired a production company (real filmmakers!) to make their own movie and she wants me to hold off for a while until we see what they're doing, and thanked for my flexibility! All this time I've been feeling guilty and she's thanking me. LESSON: Guilt is a waste of time. So is waiting for inspiration.
I read this great article about the advertising world and how mean the industry is. I was so thrilled that someone was finally saying it's not cool anymore. After a work experience at a small ad agency that left a very bad taste in my mouth, it's refreshing to hear an industry insider chastise these guys for "ad campaigns based on a hardening spirit, a lack of tolerance and an egocentric meanness that characterizes so much of today's advertising." It's not like I'm one of those goody two-shoes who only wants nice things in the world (or maybe I am!) but advertising is particularly rude, sexist, insulting and seems to delight itself in humiliating others. As someone who has auditioned for commercials, worked with the people writing them, and worked for the "client", I've seen it inside and out. Ad guys (and they are almost all men) conduct a brainstorm meeting like a pow-wow in the locker room after a game. The things I used to hear these guys say in would make their wives divorce them. The writer ends the article by saying that "it behooves marketing professionals to understand the difference between subtle irony and idiot snideness and aim for an advertising denominator cognizant of the maxim that expansive, confident consumers part with their cash far more readily than do angry, fearful ones." Shortly thereafter, I saw the film "Be Kind, Rewind," and realized walking out of it that it was actually, and truly, a film about kindness. No one was made fun of or belittled, no one acts like an ass for our amusement, no one is called ugly or fat and yet no one is held up as the ideal for us to worship. It's a movie about regular people coming together to make something beautiful. LESSON: Kindness is cool!
After all my blah-blah'ing about not caring that only 12 people read my blog, I have to say that I still wish my blog would show up in Blogger's "blogs of Note." There are some pretty cool ones in there and they prove my theory that popular blogs have shorter postings, more frequent postings, a single theme (a garden, photos of Paris) and lots of pictures! People like pictures. So I'm going to try that. Instead of not posting because I'm composing some big essay on things I know nothing about, I'll just post a photo and some tidbit. LESSON: Keep it simple.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Let's start a village
I'm going to do that mashup thing again where I look at a bunch of dots and posit whether they're connected. Here's the first dot. In the 1970's James Lovelock, a chemist and inventor, then working for NASA, published a radical theory: The earth is not a magically self-regulating planet that has always been and will always be, it is a living organism of which we are all a part. It was the first time people were asked to think about our role on this planet as something other than just beneficiaries of all it has to offer. In his latest book, "Revenge of Gaia," Lovelock declares that humans are doomed, global warming is irreversible and by the end of the century, over 6 billion people will die of droughts, floods, disease and hunger.
In an article in Rolling Stone, Lovelock talks about the ones who will survive by recalling a story about a fire on a plane. Everyone stayed in their seats as they were told, frozen, while the few that survived did so by crawling over their fellow passengers and climbing out the windows. The majority of people are going to stay seated during this crisis and die in their seats. It made me think of The Terminator and how Sarah Connor, knowing what was coming, started preparing herself for the fight ahead. According to Lovelock, there are only two ways to survive this - either by going primitive or by going super high-tech. I think it may be a combination of both but the people who can live in a more primitive way, by growing their own food and creating their own energy, will be at a great advantage.
Which brings me to the second dot. An article in National Geographic was talking about the shanty towns near Bombay and then a friend recalled the same story, something he'd witnessed in Mexico City. Enormous populations of people, hundreds of thousands, have built cities from the ground up, by themselves with no developers, no infrastructure, no government support. While poor, these communities are thriving. They have power, they have water, they've built industries and services, their places are clean and nicely kept and they are carbon neutral. These are the greenest cities in the world; everything is recycled or reused and there is no excess. If there is any kind of collapse in our energy supply or our economies, these communities will be impacted the least. Apparently one in six people lives in a squatter town and that number is expected to triple by 2050.
Then I heard one of the most exciting ideas yet in a PopTech lecture by Adrian Bowyer, a challenge to the concept of money. If every home had a small robot that could manufacture any item - a comb, a bowl, a fork - from a resin made of starch grown in the backyard (i.e. corn or potatoes) and those items went right back into the earth when we were done with them, would we have the same need for factories and therefore, money? He quotes science fiction writer Iain Banks who said that "money is a sign of poverty" to illustrate that we would be richer if we didn't need money at all.
Finally, I keep having a certain conversation with my friends about how disillusioned we are with work and its role in our life. These are people scattered all over the country who don’t know each other. They’re all about 30-45, some married, some with children, some homeowners but what we all have in common is that we grew up middle-class, we went to college and we have to work for a living. A rough illustration of who these people are:
- A single guy in D.C. who likes photography, traveling and Jazz. Works in film restoration, which he likes, but there's not much work and it pays very little.
- A recently married woman in North Carolina, about to have a baby, who works as a graphic designer. Loves designing but hates working all the time.
- A new mother and writer in Santa Monica who has to hire two nannies so that she can work when she'd rather spend the time with her baby but can't afford to.
- A single guy in Los Angeles who works a web producer. He loves computers so spends his time in front of one any way but continually has jobs that require 60-hour work weeks.
- A woman in New York working as a teacher whose job is so stressful, she couldn't do it without her live-in boyfriend helping with house work and daily chores.
- A single woman in San Francisco who has spent the last ten years pursuing a career but finds herself unfulfilled by the work.
- A bi-coastal young man, recently out of college, who's already frustrated with the fact that work takes him away from the projects he feels passionate about.
- A woman with a teenage daughter in the Bay Area who finds herself more motivated than everyone she works for and can't figure out how to dumb herself down.
- A single woman in Los Angeles who wants to help people in her native Cambodia but makes ends meet by working at an interactive agency.
We don’t have enough time to do what we enjoy because we spend our lives working and yet don’t make enough money to buy more time. In the jobs, we’re frustrated with others’ lack of commitment or in the company itself and feel that we deserve better. But in the pursuit of a better job in a better company we finally come to realize that work does not fulfill us enough to justify the time spent doing it. Most of us work to create or promote the sale of goods, goods that we use the money we earn to buy. By any measure, it’s not an efficient use of our time.
My friends are ready to quit this rat race of working and buying and are ready to move somewhere quieter, live a simpler life and grow our own food. The problem, I suppose, is that we’re all cultural people who need other people and art to stimulate us and aren’t really the kind of folk you find in rural towns. Back in April of 2007, I wrote that servitude sucks and that we've been duped because more "primitive" societies enjoy abundant free time. Now, it seems, I'm hearing the same thing from everyone: How do we get to a place where LIVING is what we spend most of our time doing instead of WORKING?
And connecting all these dots, I had an idea. A communal village of like-minded people. We want to grow our own food and learn to make our own energy and live without cars. We want to raise each other's children and imagine a society of the future and sometimes watch 30 Rock. Do you think it's possible? It would have to be in Canada, somewhere north that will be less impacted by global warming. I saw a fantastic photo in National Geographic (a similar one I found on the web is here) that shows a village in Israel, built to be egalitarian in that everyone has equal access to school, church, and other community buildings, in the center of town, but everyone also owns a piece of land, on the outside of town. It's limited as to how many people can live there, about 750, and everyone is independent and yet totally connected to each other.
It looks good. It looks real good. What do you think y'all? Ready to buy some property in Alberta?
In an article in Rolling Stone, Lovelock talks about the ones who will survive by recalling a story about a fire on a plane. Everyone stayed in their seats as they were told, frozen, while the few that survived did so by crawling over their fellow passengers and climbing out the windows. The majority of people are going to stay seated during this crisis and die in their seats. It made me think of The Terminator and how Sarah Connor, knowing what was coming, started preparing herself for the fight ahead. According to Lovelock, there are only two ways to survive this - either by going primitive or by going super high-tech. I think it may be a combination of both but the people who can live in a more primitive way, by growing their own food and creating their own energy, will be at a great advantage.
Which brings me to the second dot. An article in National Geographic was talking about the shanty towns near Bombay and then a friend recalled the same story, something he'd witnessed in Mexico City. Enormous populations of people, hundreds of thousands, have built cities from the ground up, by themselves with no developers, no infrastructure, no government support. While poor, these communities are thriving. They have power, they have water, they've built industries and services, their places are clean and nicely kept and they are carbon neutral. These are the greenest cities in the world; everything is recycled or reused and there is no excess. If there is any kind of collapse in our energy supply or our economies, these communities will be impacted the least. Apparently one in six people lives in a squatter town and that number is expected to triple by 2050.
Then I heard one of the most exciting ideas yet in a PopTech lecture by Adrian Bowyer, a challenge to the concept of money. If every home had a small robot that could manufacture any item - a comb, a bowl, a fork - from a resin made of starch grown in the backyard (i.e. corn or potatoes) and those items went right back into the earth when we were done with them, would we have the same need for factories and therefore, money? He quotes science fiction writer Iain Banks who said that "money is a sign of poverty" to illustrate that we would be richer if we didn't need money at all.
Finally, I keep having a certain conversation with my friends about how disillusioned we are with work and its role in our life. These are people scattered all over the country who don’t know each other. They’re all about 30-45, some married, some with children, some homeowners but what we all have in common is that we grew up middle-class, we went to college and we have to work for a living. A rough illustration of who these people are:
- A single guy in D.C. who likes photography, traveling and Jazz. Works in film restoration, which he likes, but there's not much work and it pays very little.
- A recently married woman in North Carolina, about to have a baby, who works as a graphic designer. Loves designing but hates working all the time.
- A new mother and writer in Santa Monica who has to hire two nannies so that she can work when she'd rather spend the time with her baby but can't afford to.
- A single guy in Los Angeles who works a web producer. He loves computers so spends his time in front of one any way but continually has jobs that require 60-hour work weeks.
- A woman in New York working as a teacher whose job is so stressful, she couldn't do it without her live-in boyfriend helping with house work and daily chores.
- A single woman in San Francisco who has spent the last ten years pursuing a career but finds herself unfulfilled by the work.
- A bi-coastal young man, recently out of college, who's already frustrated with the fact that work takes him away from the projects he feels passionate about.
- A woman with a teenage daughter in the Bay Area who finds herself more motivated than everyone she works for and can't figure out how to dumb herself down.
- A single woman in Los Angeles who wants to help people in her native Cambodia but makes ends meet by working at an interactive agency.
We don’t have enough time to do what we enjoy because we spend our lives working and yet don’t make enough money to buy more time. In the jobs, we’re frustrated with others’ lack of commitment or in the company itself and feel that we deserve better. But in the pursuit of a better job in a better company we finally come to realize that work does not fulfill us enough to justify the time spent doing it. Most of us work to create or promote the sale of goods, goods that we use the money we earn to buy. By any measure, it’s not an efficient use of our time.
My friends are ready to quit this rat race of working and buying and are ready to move somewhere quieter, live a simpler life and grow our own food. The problem, I suppose, is that we’re all cultural people who need other people and art to stimulate us and aren’t really the kind of folk you find in rural towns. Back in April of 2007, I wrote that servitude sucks and that we've been duped because more "primitive" societies enjoy abundant free time. Now, it seems, I'm hearing the same thing from everyone: How do we get to a place where LIVING is what we spend most of our time doing instead of WORKING?
And connecting all these dots, I had an idea. A communal village of like-minded people. We want to grow our own food and learn to make our own energy and live without cars. We want to raise each other's children and imagine a society of the future and sometimes watch 30 Rock. Do you think it's possible? It would have to be in Canada, somewhere north that will be less impacted by global warming. I saw a fantastic photo in National Geographic (a similar one I found on the web is here) that shows a village in Israel, built to be egalitarian in that everyone has equal access to school, church, and other community buildings, in the center of town, but everyone also owns a piece of land, on the outside of town. It's limited as to how many people can live there, about 750, and everyone is independent and yet totally connected to each other.
It looks good. It looks real good. What do you think y'all? Ready to buy some property in Alberta?
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Give up the plastic bag!
I've fallen out of writing again (again!) but maybe have another good excuse. The project I was hired to manage, the job I moved for, is “on ice” which basically means it’s been killed. It’s technically on hold but who knows for how long and in January the woman I’m filling in for could come back or the head count could get cut, which means I don’t have a job anyway.
Once again, I find myself reevaluating my self, my work, my life. Life is definitely more difficult when everything goes topsy turvy every few months. Last year I planned to move to Santa Monica to be closer to a boyfriend who I then ended things with because he was breaking my heart. I had already quit acting so I decided to move to Santa Monica anyway to ease my dislike of LA and the questioning began. Then this year, I started another relationship, ended that relationship, quit my job, started a new job, got laid off, was unemployed for three months, got another job, then got hired away by this one, and then moved to San Francisco.
You might think I’m just indecisive but I don’t think that’s it. I think I’m searching for something and I’m just processing my experiences a lot faster than I did when I was younger. Where I would have stayed in a job or relationship for two or three years, I now only need a few months to know if it’s right or wrong. And I value my time so much more. Every weekend I feel like I cram as much fun time as I can into my two days.
This weekend I bought green zebra striped tomatoes, the last of the heirloom crop for the year, at the farmer's market. I went with a friend to Golden Gate Park and climbed to the top of the tower in the de Young art museum for the most amazing views of the park, the city, and the bay. We went to a craft fair and bought a postcard from a woman inside her self-made "postcard machine," and then headed to the Conservatory of Flowers to see lowland and highland tropical plants and orchids. I went to a charming holiday party and socialized with my co-workers. And the next day met another friend downtown to see the latest exhibits at SF MOMA and then to the Ferry Building for a beer and some chowder (I ate animals!).
But tomorrow morning I'll be back on the bus and back in my (for now) routine. I always sit if I can on the side of the bus that faces west. After we leave the city, with the morning sun glinting off the buildings with a honey glow, and past the airport where I once saw a plane fly silently towards me as if in slow motion from a huge cloud so that it looked like a shark swimming out from behind a coral reef, I love to watch the fog fingering its way through the mountain ridges above the reservoir where these little white birds are migrating. It makes me so happy to see animals, like a little deer leaping or a snowy egret landing near the road, a small herd of cows chomping grass or a horse shaking his mane, but what I see way too many of are plastic bags.
Of the debris along the road, almost all of it is those flimsy plastic bags that every store wants to put your items in when you buy something. They're caught in tree branches, wrapped around sign posts, twisted into long grasses, or shredded and flapping in the wind from a fence. There's literally one every 10 feet all the way down the highway. If they're here, it's not difficult to imagine them in the ocean, choking birds and suffocating fish and elsewhere in the wild mucking things up.
I stopped using plastic bags, for the most part, years ago. I take my Trader Joe’s totes to the farmer’s market, a canvas bag to the mail box when I retrieve my mail or will ball up a small plastic bag if I’m going on a walk but stopping by the store somewhere along the way. This was one of the first “reduce, reuse, recycle” actions I took so it seems so basic to me. I still get looks sometimes but what I think is even more ridiculous are the people who will let one tiny item get thrown in to a bag. It doesn’t even occur to them to say, “I don’t need a bag”?
Some cities are banning Styrofoam as a takeout package because of the havoc it wreaks in nature and plastic bags are next. A letter to the editor in Wired from a Dutch guy suggests charging five cents for each bag, but it's hard to imagine that working on Americans. If you need a New Year’s resolution that’s fun and easy, I suggest this one: give up the plastic bag!
Once again, I find myself reevaluating my self, my work, my life. Life is definitely more difficult when everything goes topsy turvy every few months. Last year I planned to move to Santa Monica to be closer to a boyfriend who I then ended things with because he was breaking my heart. I had already quit acting so I decided to move to Santa Monica anyway to ease my dislike of LA and the questioning began. Then this year, I started another relationship, ended that relationship, quit my job, started a new job, got laid off, was unemployed for three months, got another job, then got hired away by this one, and then moved to San Francisco.
You might think I’m just indecisive but I don’t think that’s it. I think I’m searching for something and I’m just processing my experiences a lot faster than I did when I was younger. Where I would have stayed in a job or relationship for two or three years, I now only need a few months to know if it’s right or wrong. And I value my time so much more. Every weekend I feel like I cram as much fun time as I can into my two days.
This weekend I bought green zebra striped tomatoes, the last of the heirloom crop for the year, at the farmer's market. I went with a friend to Golden Gate Park and climbed to the top of the tower in the de Young art museum for the most amazing views of the park, the city, and the bay. We went to a craft fair and bought a postcard from a woman inside her self-made "postcard machine," and then headed to the Conservatory of Flowers to see lowland and highland tropical plants and orchids. I went to a charming holiday party and socialized with my co-workers. And the next day met another friend downtown to see the latest exhibits at SF MOMA and then to the Ferry Building for a beer and some chowder (I ate animals!).
But tomorrow morning I'll be back on the bus and back in my (for now) routine. I always sit if I can on the side of the bus that faces west. After we leave the city, with the morning sun glinting off the buildings with a honey glow, and past the airport where I once saw a plane fly silently towards me as if in slow motion from a huge cloud so that it looked like a shark swimming out from behind a coral reef, I love to watch the fog fingering its way through the mountain ridges above the reservoir where these little white birds are migrating. It makes me so happy to see animals, like a little deer leaping or a snowy egret landing near the road, a small herd of cows chomping grass or a horse shaking his mane, but what I see way too many of are plastic bags.
Of the debris along the road, almost all of it is those flimsy plastic bags that every store wants to put your items in when you buy something. They're caught in tree branches, wrapped around sign posts, twisted into long grasses, or shredded and flapping in the wind from a fence. There's literally one every 10 feet all the way down the highway. If they're here, it's not difficult to imagine them in the ocean, choking birds and suffocating fish and elsewhere in the wild mucking things up.
I stopped using plastic bags, for the most part, years ago. I take my Trader Joe’s totes to the farmer’s market, a canvas bag to the mail box when I retrieve my mail or will ball up a small plastic bag if I’m going on a walk but stopping by the store somewhere along the way. This was one of the first “reduce, reuse, recycle” actions I took so it seems so basic to me. I still get looks sometimes but what I think is even more ridiculous are the people who will let one tiny item get thrown in to a bag. It doesn’t even occur to them to say, “I don’t need a bag”?
Some cities are banning Styrofoam as a takeout package because of the havoc it wreaks in nature and plastic bags are next. A letter to the editor in Wired from a Dutch guy suggests charging five cents for each bag, but it's hard to imagine that working on Americans. If you need a New Year’s resolution that’s fun and easy, I suggest this one: give up the plastic bag!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The soccer players and me
Never again will I agree to take a job in a new city without time off. I don't care how urgent the company says it is. When all I had to do was show up, I was on top of the world. I felt smart, I felt needed, I felt like I belonged and I was excited about this job. But as soon as the moving part started, I couldn't focus on anything. It was like the ground and everything else was moving at the same time, in different directions. Then I started feeling lost, stupid, unsure and confused. I'm a creature of habit, I need to have certain things be the same or I lose my bearings. Eventually I got into a little bit of a rhythm, sleeping on a friend's couch and living out of a closet, sure, but getting up at the same time and getting coffee at the same little shop on the way to work made a big difference. I had a few days where I felt like things were clicking, but every week the rhythm was interrupted by a trip to LA (I've been three times in three weeks for work), weekends in the city looking for apartments, and everyone else's vacation schedules. Then I got a really bad cold.
Luckily I'd already found an apartment and got to spend some time just relaxing (I'm still sick but the relaxing was nice). I finished Harry Potter book 5 and was thinking that for all my complaining, I can be grateful I'm not Potter. That kid has problems that just never end, eh? It was funny because the whole book was about his dreams and how he kept dreaming what Voldemort was doing. It make me more conscious about my dreams. Last night I dreamed that a whole team of hot international soccer players were vying for my attention, one had cooked me an authentic Italian meal, another wanted to give me a massage. I cracked myself up at how very female it was - hot guys who cook and give massages (LOL!) - and also how reflective of despite all the chaos, I'm in a pretty good mood. I just hope I'm back on top soon.
Luckily I'd already found an apartment and got to spend some time just relaxing (I'm still sick but the relaxing was nice). I finished Harry Potter book 5 and was thinking that for all my complaining, I can be grateful I'm not Potter. That kid has problems that just never end, eh? It was funny because the whole book was about his dreams and how he kept dreaming what Voldemort was doing. It make me more conscious about my dreams. Last night I dreamed that a whole team of hot international soccer players were vying for my attention, one had cooked me an authentic Italian meal, another wanted to give me a massage. I cracked myself up at how very female it was - hot guys who cook and give massages (LOL!) - and also how reflective of despite all the chaos, I'm in a pretty good mood. I just hope I'm back on top soon.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Weird back bedrooms and hobbit abodes
Once again, I'm sorry for not keeping up with the posts! I really miss blogging but it's just not something I can do at the moment. I don't have my own space and am so easily distracted that just the sounds of other people can keep me from having enough concentration to write. Maybe it's just my writerly excuse but I find it very difficult to formulate original thoughts in the midst of other's activities. I do my best thinking while exercising, driving and showering and well, unless I can write immediately afterwards, the thoughts vanish and all that's left are a few mindless scribbles. This week, however, I've been clocking 12 hour days at the new job and haven't even had time to decipher my scrawl.
But this weekend, I finally found an apartment! And actually I only was looking for three weekends and with very little to choose from, am amazed I found something I like. It's not EXACTLY what I wanted. I would have liked to be in an upstairs apartment, I would have liked to have a garden and I would have liked a bay window, but apartment hunting in San Francisco is a process of determining which collection of compromises is more appealing that the others. I saw an adorable apartment that same day, but at the same price as mine in Santa Monica, it had probably a third of the space. It looked as if someone had shrunk the perfect apartment down to a size that would suit a hobbit. It had a tiny little kitchen with a tiny little refrigerator and a tiny little dishwasher. it was fantastic with bay windows in the main room and the bedroom but again, teeny tiny.
There were others with beautiful views but that sprawled all over the place and made no sense. One had the kitchen split in two - the refrigerator and stove in one room and the sink and cupboards in a dark little cave of it's own. In the back, the fourth room after the kitchen(s) was a "bedroom" that looked like somewhere you'd wake up after being kidnapped by terrorists, or worse, rapists. It was weirder than weird and yet, being SF, there was a woman there absolutely in love with it and selling herself via her credit report to the landlord.
Others have parking or a washer and dryer but are modern carpet boxes without any charm. It's very difficult, unless funds are no issue, to get that perfect apartment. But I found something very nice: well-maintained, charming, bright, spacious, clean and within my price range. It's a five-minute walk to where the company bus will fetch me, a half-block from the laundromat, a whole foods grocery and an array of coffee shops. Less than a mile in any direction are restaurants, shops, parks, and anything else I could need. And so begins my life in the city!
But this weekend, I finally found an apartment! And actually I only was looking for three weekends and with very little to choose from, am amazed I found something I like. It's not EXACTLY what I wanted. I would have liked to be in an upstairs apartment, I would have liked to have a garden and I would have liked a bay window, but apartment hunting in San Francisco is a process of determining which collection of compromises is more appealing that the others. I saw an adorable apartment that same day, but at the same price as mine in Santa Monica, it had probably a third of the space. It looked as if someone had shrunk the perfect apartment down to a size that would suit a hobbit. It had a tiny little kitchen with a tiny little refrigerator and a tiny little dishwasher. it was fantastic with bay windows in the main room and the bedroom but again, teeny tiny.
There were others with beautiful views but that sprawled all over the place and made no sense. One had the kitchen split in two - the refrigerator and stove in one room and the sink and cupboards in a dark little cave of it's own. In the back, the fourth room after the kitchen(s) was a "bedroom" that looked like somewhere you'd wake up after being kidnapped by terrorists, or worse, rapists. It was weirder than weird and yet, being SF, there was a woman there absolutely in love with it and selling herself via her credit report to the landlord.
Others have parking or a washer and dryer but are modern carpet boxes without any charm. It's very difficult, unless funds are no issue, to get that perfect apartment. But I found something very nice: well-maintained, charming, bright, spacious, clean and within my price range. It's a five-minute walk to where the company bus will fetch me, a half-block from the laundromat, a whole foods grocery and an array of coffee shops. Less than a mile in any direction are restaurants, shops, parks, and anything else I could need. And so begins my life in the city!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Stars in my future
I know that horoscopes are silly but I enjoy them anyway. I tell myself that I have a scientific interest in that I like to measure the likelihood of them being correct. Usually I read the month's full horoscope near the beginning of the month, so it would stand to reason that it doesn't resonate as the month hasn't happened yet. Invariably, when I forget get to it mid-month, I'm often astounded at the relevancy looking back.
Today, realizing that I hadn't yet read my predictions for August and given all the change that's going on, was incredibly curious to see if this was the case. It's so amazing, I have to share it with you.
It starts out saying that I’m getting a promotion, possibly at a new company. Take my time to review the offers, it advises, it will work for me. (Now they tell me!)For the past two years it says I’ve worked hard and been “on display,” needing to prove myself. “Think back to July and August 2005. At that time, Saturn had just entered your prestigious career sector and began to groom you for much bigger things.” August 2005 is when I started working in marketing again, after five years of pursing acting. I was an unemployed waitress/actor and was having a hell of a time convincing people that I was anything but. Life, it says, is about to get much better. I’ve paid my dues and I’m about to earn a lot more money.
It continues: An excellent day to open talks is August 2. (The day of my first interview) By August 6, you should have the answer you want, or if not then, shortly thereafter. (I got the job on August 8!) One day that will likely be a tough one will be August 21, in fact, it may turn out to be the hardest day of the year for a work-related episode. (This is the day I start the new job.) Mars will move into your eighth house, suggesting you are about to spend quite a bit of money and your high-spending period will last until the end of September. (Yes, yikes!)
I got a little worried when I read that "the last part of the month will be a turbulent time for everyone. A particularly difficult full moon lunar eclipse in Pisces is due, and will force a decision about a romantic relationship, particularly if you are not yet formally attached." I don't even want to think about what would happen if the guy I told I would marry and follow around the world decided to take me up on that right now. Let's hope this horoscope stuff is a bunch of crap!
Today, realizing that I hadn't yet read my predictions for August and given all the change that's going on, was incredibly curious to see if this was the case. It's so amazing, I have to share it with you.
It starts out saying that I’m getting a promotion, possibly at a new company. Take my time to review the offers, it advises, it will work for me. (Now they tell me!)For the past two years it says I’ve worked hard and been “on display,” needing to prove myself. “Think back to July and August 2005. At that time, Saturn had just entered your prestigious career sector and began to groom you for much bigger things.” August 2005 is when I started working in marketing again, after five years of pursing acting. I was an unemployed waitress/actor and was having a hell of a time convincing people that I was anything but. Life, it says, is about to get much better. I’ve paid my dues and I’m about to earn a lot more money.
It continues: An excellent day to open talks is August 2. (The day of my first interview) By August 6, you should have the answer you want, or if not then, shortly thereafter. (I got the job on August 8!) One day that will likely be a tough one will be August 21, in fact, it may turn out to be the hardest day of the year for a work-related episode. (This is the day I start the new job.) Mars will move into your eighth house, suggesting you are about to spend quite a bit of money and your high-spending period will last until the end of September. (Yes, yikes!)
I got a little worried when I read that "the last part of the month will be a turbulent time for everyone. A particularly difficult full moon lunar eclipse in Pisces is due, and will force a decision about a romantic relationship, particularly if you are not yet formally attached." I don't even want to think about what would happen if the guy I told I would marry and follow around the world decided to take me up on that right now. Let's hope this horoscope stuff is a bunch of crap!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Do nothing or do anything - it's not real!
One of my regular readers asked if I was hoarding entries, planning to release them in another batch of five. I'm failing my readers! I have no time to write and because I know there are more important things going on in the world than my silly little life, I resist writing updates on my car (it's fixed), the job (starts next week) and the love life (I received a postcard from the long-distance friend).
In fact, I went to the New York Times just now to prove that there was something more exciting going on than my life I FOUND IT! It has been predicted that there is at least a 20% chance that we are living in a computer simulation of an advanced post-human race. There's even a guide on how best to survive in a simulated world.
The theory is a possible explanation as to why there are dictatorial figures in the world whose selfish and insane actions serve only their needs. They are obviously the creators of the simulation acting out their own fantasies on simulated people (us). The scientist who produced the study claims that we will have computers who can simulate life at this level by mid-century and wonders, can we create a simulation within a simulation?
In fact, I went to the New York Times just now to prove that there was something more exciting going on than my life I FOUND IT! It has been predicted that there is at least a 20% chance that we are living in a computer simulation of an advanced post-human race. There's even a guide on how best to survive in a simulated world.
The theory is a possible explanation as to why there are dictatorial figures in the world whose selfish and insane actions serve only their needs. They are obviously the creators of the simulation acting out their own fantasies on simulated people (us). The scientist who produced the study claims that we will have computers who can simulate life at this level by mid-century and wonders, can we create a simulation within a simulation?
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Ask and you shall receive (but maybe not when you expect)
I must have been asking the universe for too many different things at the same time because in the last year jobs, opportunities and men have come and gone but none seemed like the perfect fit. They all were close to but not quite what I wanted. And yet now I realize, they all had their purpose.
Last year, I first considered giving up acting for a guy, then for a job and eventually happily quit acting. Then a friend got me another job that would bring my resume up to date, and with a real salary, I was able to pay off all of my debt in three months. In January, things got serious with a guy who lived in San Francisco and he asked if I would consider moving. I started questioning what my purpose was in Los Angeles, now that I wasn't acting, and remembered that I had always loved the Bay Area. Despite having just landed in Santa Monica and having my own apartment for the first time in six years, I was feeling done with Los Angeles. I decided I would take the leap but the relationship ultimately didn’t work out. Two months after taking another job, I was laid off.
That's when the major soul searching began. What kind of job did I want? Where did I want to live? Would I ever have the relationship I wanted in Los Angeles? I committed to a couple of film projects, told a man that I loved him and then, I took a job I didn't really want. Two days later, I got a call for a job that would change my life. A recruiter I had worked with before called to say she had my dream job. It sounded like exactly what I had been looking for, a senior level job that would require my marketing and film experience.
I shuffled time, missed sleep and stretched the truth to find several hours two days in a row to interview. I had to explore this opportunity, but I also wanted to be realistic. I had a job, a good job, and I needed to take ownership of it, despite this dangling carrot.
Last year, I first considered giving up acting for a guy, then for a job and eventually happily quit acting. Then a friend got me another job that would bring my resume up to date, and with a real salary, I was able to pay off all of my debt in three months. In January, things got serious with a guy who lived in San Francisco and he asked if I would consider moving. I started questioning what my purpose was in Los Angeles, now that I wasn't acting, and remembered that I had always loved the Bay Area. Despite having just landed in Santa Monica and having my own apartment for the first time in six years, I was feeling done with Los Angeles. I decided I would take the leap but the relationship ultimately didn’t work out. Two months after taking another job, I was laid off.
That's when the major soul searching began. What kind of job did I want? Where did I want to live? Would I ever have the relationship I wanted in Los Angeles? I committed to a couple of film projects, told a man that I loved him and then, I took a job I didn't really want. Two days later, I got a call for a job that would change my life. A recruiter I had worked with before called to say she had my dream job. It sounded like exactly what I had been looking for, a senior level job that would require my marketing and film experience.
I shuffled time, missed sleep and stretched the truth to find several hours two days in a row to interview. I had to explore this opportunity, but I also wanted to be realistic. I had a job, a good job, and I needed to take ownership of it, despite this dangling carrot.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Violence is so not cool anymore
I had a weird day in Santa Monica yesterday. There seemed to be more violence around than usual. I went out to buy a ticket for the 7:30 movie, it was still sunny and I was going to the bookstore first, then the movie. On the way, I was confronted by a large and frightening woman with no shoes who yelled at me "if I wasn't something something, I'd fuck you up!" She was literally foaming at the mouth. She continued down the street screaming and cussing and on the other side, people stopped what they were doing to see who was making all that racket.
Then when I found out the movie was sold out, I bought a ticket for the later show and headed home. I walked by an ATM where a young woman was trying to get money and was being harassed by a guy who could have been homeless, it's hard to tell. She was explaining "actually, I'm late for a play and just trying to get some money." I don't know what she was apologizing for but he continued to talk at her anyway.
When I got home, there were some kids on the stoop across the street practicing their rhymes. They were rapping at the top of the lungs the same two lines over and over again. I could hear windows and doors closing, the sound traveled for a whole block in each direction I'm sure, of all the nearby apartments. Only one woman yelled "shut up!" but it didn't do any good.
A few hours later, I headed out again to see the movie and I passed two women walking. They were talking but it quickly escalated to yelling and the younger one tried to grab the bag of the older woman as she shouted "will you just stop drinking already?!" They went on down the street like that, the younger one yelling and trying to grab the bag and the older one shushing her as other people walked by. I passed a couple on my side of the street, clearly in a fight, as the guy said something mean to his girlfriend.
Before the film, there were several trailers. I'm always tuned in to how people react to trailers. Whether they laugh, or talk the whole time or are engaged. During two for movies about random violence, the kind that doesn't make sense and makes us into crazy people, the feeling from the audience was not good. It felt angry. When the Bourne Ultimatum came on though, even though there's violence, the feeling is uplifting. He's fighting for all of us, and the people who get hurt are generally bad guys. People laughed and cheered and went along with it in a way that they absolutely were not going to for those two other films.
I'll venture a guess that random acts of violence are sliding down the backside of cool.
Then when I found out the movie was sold out, I bought a ticket for the later show and headed home. I walked by an ATM where a young woman was trying to get money and was being harassed by a guy who could have been homeless, it's hard to tell. She was explaining "actually, I'm late for a play and just trying to get some money." I don't know what she was apologizing for but he continued to talk at her anyway.
When I got home, there were some kids on the stoop across the street practicing their rhymes. They were rapping at the top of the lungs the same two lines over and over again. I could hear windows and doors closing, the sound traveled for a whole block in each direction I'm sure, of all the nearby apartments. Only one woman yelled "shut up!" but it didn't do any good.
A few hours later, I headed out again to see the movie and I passed two women walking. They were talking but it quickly escalated to yelling and the younger one tried to grab the bag of the older woman as she shouted "will you just stop drinking already?!" They went on down the street like that, the younger one yelling and trying to grab the bag and the older one shushing her as other people walked by. I passed a couple on my side of the street, clearly in a fight, as the guy said something mean to his girlfriend.
Before the film, there were several trailers. I'm always tuned in to how people react to trailers. Whether they laugh, or talk the whole time or are engaged. During two for movies about random violence, the kind that doesn't make sense and makes us into crazy people, the feeling from the audience was not good. It felt angry. When the Bourne Ultimatum came on though, even though there's violence, the feeling is uplifting. He's fighting for all of us, and the people who get hurt are generally bad guys. People laughed and cheered and went along with it in a way that they absolutely were not going to for those two other films.
I'll venture a guess that random acts of violence are sliding down the backside of cool.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Grazing goats, stolen bait and a pedophile
I'm thinking about creating a regular post called "What's wrong with people?" It's a phrase I use (probably way too) often when I just don't know what else to say. People do such stupid and horrible things that can't be explained by any kind of logic. Things that just make you think there isn't enough love in the world if these people don't know what's wrong with their actions.
Here are three examples that prompted the phrase this weekend:
1) While visiting the Bay Area this weekend, a guy in a bar (who I think was trying to hit on me) told me this story: A herd of goats corralled after a hard days' work trimming the grass in Oakland to prevent fires (a technique used all over including around the Getty Center in L.A.) was shot at in the night by an unknown assailant. Someone shot and KILLED 15 little goats while they were penned up. Some of the bodies were mutilated although police don't know if it was from the shooter or wild animals.
2) My friend was talking about Newport Beach in Southern California and how nice it was. I Googled it to find photos and information and the first item was about a man, fishing off the pier, who repeatedly stabbed and KILLED a sea lion that had stolen his bait. Apparently several times a year seal lions are found killed by humans. This attack was in broad daylight so several people called the police and he was arrested.
3) After clicking on one of those enticing "news" headlines that turns out to be a stupid story that I don't care about, I read that some British actor who I don't know, is being prosecuted for having a sexual relationship with and taking indecent photos of an under aged girl. He was her acting teacher and HE calls HER a liar because she claims they had sex for years starting with a kiss at 14. He admits that he had sex with the girl, who's young enough to be his granddaughter, but only AFTER she was 18 (because then it magically becomes okay and normal and totally kosher, right?). HE says SHE's sick and needs help. Apparently she couldn't handle being rejected after he took advantage of her.
Here are three examples that prompted the phrase this weekend:
1) While visiting the Bay Area this weekend, a guy in a bar (who I think was trying to hit on me) told me this story: A herd of goats corralled after a hard days' work trimming the grass in Oakland to prevent fires (a technique used all over including around the Getty Center in L.A.) was shot at in the night by an unknown assailant. Someone shot and KILLED 15 little goats while they were penned up. Some of the bodies were mutilated although police don't know if it was from the shooter or wild animals.
2) My friend was talking about Newport Beach in Southern California and how nice it was. I Googled it to find photos and information and the first item was about a man, fishing off the pier, who repeatedly stabbed and KILLED a sea lion that had stolen his bait. Apparently several times a year seal lions are found killed by humans. This attack was in broad daylight so several people called the police and he was arrested.
3) After clicking on one of those enticing "news" headlines that turns out to be a stupid story that I don't care about, I read that some British actor who I don't know, is being prosecuted for having a sexual relationship with and taking indecent photos of an under aged girl. He was her acting teacher and HE calls HER a liar because she claims they had sex for years starting with a kiss at 14. He admits that he had sex with the girl, who's young enough to be his granddaughter, but only AFTER she was 18 (because then it magically becomes okay and normal and totally kosher, right?). HE says SHE's sick and needs help. Apparently she couldn't handle being rejected after he took advantage of her.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Parents say the darndest things
I noticed, lately, that I tell people stories about my parents. I quote them in a funny anecdote the way other people do their children. I'll be doing it and then suddenly become very self-conscious and wonder, is this normal? Do other people do this? I don't think they do. Which brings me to my next question, why am I?
It's possible that I have tired of talking about myself, and am looking for something, I don't know, more removed to talk about. Everyone has parents so it could be that I'm seeking to strike a common chord. Again, much the way people with children do. Many of the people I know, in fact most, still don't have children and yet I don't notice them telling stories about their parents.
There's the obvious reason that they live close to me and I see them often. Another possible explanation is that until the last few years, I haven't been as emotionally connected to my parents as I am now. In fact, I might be going through some reverse process by which I become more attached to my parents as I get older, where other people become less. I also feel that I'm just getting to know them.
When we're kids, our parents intentionally keep certain things from us that reveal that they are human, they make mistakes and they were once children too. As they get older, my folks offer up these delicious little tidbits of their life. Just today, I was having lunch with my mom. She saw a girl and said "she's wearing bloomers." I looked and sure enough, she was. I don't think I've ever seen a person wearing bloomers in real life before - I mean, not in a costume. Then she said that she was wearing bloomers when she met my dad. Black bloomers with white polka dots and a baby doll type top.
"My hair was cut short", she said, "like yours." And then she told me a piece of the "how I met your father story" that I'd never heard before. It was really nice. Sometimes telling the stories are a way of sharing my own opinion, but from someone else's mouth. You see, I hear myself in them, and it amazes me that we are so similar.
My mom was talking about a new HBO show, I think that one about sex. She said "What's the fascination with bodies anyway? We all have one." I just about fell off my chair laughing and I'm not even sure it's that funny. It's that the thought seems so unique to me that hearing it from her mouth reminds me that we are related. That I made from her the way Eve is supposed to be made from Adam.
I spent quite a few years of my life not liking my parents very much, so it's an absolute treat to get to know them at this point in my life. While out to dinner with my dad, he was asking about my recent (and second) conversion to vegetarianism. "Is it for your health or because you want to save the animals?" he asked. I replied that it was for the animals and he laughed before he could stop himself. But I understood, I knew what it meant.
He was thinking that it can't possibly make a difference if I stop eating animals when he's going to have a bowl of sea creatures for dinner. But he's a smart man, and he knows I'm a smart woman so he gives it another think. I tell him that I have certain beliefs and things that are important to me and that at some point in a discussion about these things, someone will inevitably ask if I am vegetarian and I will have to be able to say "yes." He listened then said "In Peru, people throw trash out the car window." He told them that it was bad, that they shouldn't do it and they asked "why?" They looked at him with quizzical faces. That's what people do. He said that even though he couldn't change their mind, he thought it was important to be an example. He made the connection between my example, showing people that we can change, bringing awareness with my choices, and his own experience. I was really quite proud of him.
I think in a way, I'm kind of falling in love with my parents the way people do with their children. For me, I've found that it's a way of accepting myself. I am, after all, like them in so many ways. For me to love their quirks is to come to love mine.
It's possible that I have tired of talking about myself, and am looking for something, I don't know, more removed to talk about. Everyone has parents so it could be that I'm seeking to strike a common chord. Again, much the way people with children do. Many of the people I know, in fact most, still don't have children and yet I don't notice them telling stories about their parents.
There's the obvious reason that they live close to me and I see them often. Another possible explanation is that until the last few years, I haven't been as emotionally connected to my parents as I am now. In fact, I might be going through some reverse process by which I become more attached to my parents as I get older, where other people become less. I also feel that I'm just getting to know them.
When we're kids, our parents intentionally keep certain things from us that reveal that they are human, they make mistakes and they were once children too. As they get older, my folks offer up these delicious little tidbits of their life. Just today, I was having lunch with my mom. She saw a girl and said "she's wearing bloomers." I looked and sure enough, she was. I don't think I've ever seen a person wearing bloomers in real life before - I mean, not in a costume. Then she said that she was wearing bloomers when she met my dad. Black bloomers with white polka dots and a baby doll type top.
"My hair was cut short", she said, "like yours." And then she told me a piece of the "how I met your father story" that I'd never heard before. It was really nice. Sometimes telling the stories are a way of sharing my own opinion, but from someone else's mouth. You see, I hear myself in them, and it amazes me that we are so similar.
My mom was talking about a new HBO show, I think that one about sex. She said "What's the fascination with bodies anyway? We all have one." I just about fell off my chair laughing and I'm not even sure it's that funny. It's that the thought seems so unique to me that hearing it from her mouth reminds me that we are related. That I made from her the way Eve is supposed to be made from Adam.
I spent quite a few years of my life not liking my parents very much, so it's an absolute treat to get to know them at this point in my life. While out to dinner with my dad, he was asking about my recent (and second) conversion to vegetarianism. "Is it for your health or because you want to save the animals?" he asked. I replied that it was for the animals and he laughed before he could stop himself. But I understood, I knew what it meant.
He was thinking that it can't possibly make a difference if I stop eating animals when he's going to have a bowl of sea creatures for dinner. But he's a smart man, and he knows I'm a smart woman so he gives it another think. I tell him that I have certain beliefs and things that are important to me and that at some point in a discussion about these things, someone will inevitably ask if I am vegetarian and I will have to be able to say "yes." He listened then said "In Peru, people throw trash out the car window." He told them that it was bad, that they shouldn't do it and they asked "why?" They looked at him with quizzical faces. That's what people do. He said that even though he couldn't change their mind, he thought it was important to be an example. He made the connection between my example, showing people that we can change, bringing awareness with my choices, and his own experience. I was really quite proud of him.
I think in a way, I'm kind of falling in love with my parents the way people do with their children. For me, I've found that it's a way of accepting myself. I am, after all, like them in so many ways. For me to love their quirks is to come to love mine.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Who wants a second life?
Isn't one life more than a handful? I'm trying to figure out the Second Life phenomenon. I read a while back that it was the most played video game ever. Of course, call it a video game and immediately announce that you are not one of the residents of Second Life. And, a video game it is not. It's more like a cyber lounge. Visit an alternate universe, change your image, take a class, go to a nightclub, meet another player to share some (ahem) indiscretion.
I have to ask, why walk around on a computer when I can walk in real life along the coast and actually get exercise? Why watch a woman play the guitar in a virtual club with virtual people when I can just go to a club? Are the people playing too unsightly to go outside? They live somewhere with no live music available? Are they paranoid schizophrenics who have a hard time dealing with strangers? Or are the streets where they live too dangerous for walking? Is it possible that there are over seven million people in this predicament? If not, it means that someone I know must be playing Second Life.
With 7,573,799 residents and growing at 36% per month (although only 1,739,352 have logged in during the past 60 days) the popularity of Second Life is difficult to ignore. Do you know that the average user spends FORTY HOURS PER MONTH on Second Life?! Holy crap, that's like a whole work week. Is it just like the rest of the Internet, people connecting via blogs and online dating? Or is it something more, the only way we'll connect in the future? I'd love to meet someone who can tell me what's cool about it.
At the risk of sounding like someone's grandmother, are people living a second life instead of a RL? (In SL, an RL means real life.) I used to work with a guy who was very sweet but seemed a little lonely. He had a four year old daughter and lit up whenever I asked about her. One day I said something about Second Life and he said he wife "was on there all the time." They have a four year old, he's working and she's living life online? It's a good thing it isn't that expensive or people would be losing their RL homes to buy land in SL.
This is what I have been able to ascertain so far:
1) The worlds are created by users so it either looks like our world or looks like someone's sci-fi version. In other words, most of it is hideously ugly. I expected it to be much weirder and "out there". This is just like the real world except badly drawn.
2) The activities, while fantastic (like flying) are only happening on a computer screen. What happened to the REAL futuristic technology of simulated reality? Let's just plug into The Matrix already! Honestly, I think I'd rather go to Disneyland.
3) Video games are created by artists and writers - they have details, a history, they have an objective, they make sense. This just seems haphazard to me. Here's a question. Does a man living in SL as a woman have the same experience as a man cross-dressing in RL? Otherwise, what's the point right?
4) It has rapidly been taken over by what else, sex. I guess most people want their second life to have more/weirder sex. Except again, let me remind you that there's no actual sex. At best you're watching your badly animated avatar humping another one. (Realistic body parts cost extra) Yuck!
5) Every business on the planet has jumped on board and as usual has no idea why. They don't even know what it is they just hear the numbers of how many people (i.e. consumers) are online and want a piece of the action.
Wired published a traveler's guide because, of course, they have an office there.
They list three minor "hazards and annoyances":
1) It's confusing and can be difficult to master even the simplest of actions.
2) Crowded places slow your frame rate to a slow crawl, apparently just a fact of life in SL.
3) It's ugly and overwhelming (already noted).
Gee, maybe I was being too harsh before. It sounds fun. I wonder if people are spending 40 hours a month on it because that's how long it takes to learn things and refresh the screen. Ha ha ha. Here's something potentially interesting. Virtual Hallucinations was created by UC Davis medical staff to simulate the audiovisual hallucinations associated with schizophrenia. Wander through and voices tell you to kill yourself. If you look in the mirror, a death mask stares back. (Educational!) This is at least on the right track, experiencing how other people see the world, but not nearly as impressive as the virtual reality chambers being used to treat soldiers suffering from PSTD.
Browsing photos on Flickr of residents' Second Lives, I get a sense of the appeal. It's a creative outlet for the average person. Without any special technical abilities, anyone can create a character, a world, or a product and see it move and interact with other people's creations. I can dig that. I still don't think it's for me but if anyone has done it and liked it, I want to hear about it!
I have to ask, why walk around on a computer when I can walk in real life along the coast and actually get exercise? Why watch a woman play the guitar in a virtual club with virtual people when I can just go to a club? Are the people playing too unsightly to go outside? They live somewhere with no live music available? Are they paranoid schizophrenics who have a hard time dealing with strangers? Or are the streets where they live too dangerous for walking? Is it possible that there are over seven million people in this predicament? If not, it means that someone I know must be playing Second Life.
With 7,573,799 residents and growing at 36% per month (although only 1,739,352 have logged in during the past 60 days) the popularity of Second Life is difficult to ignore. Do you know that the average user spends FORTY HOURS PER MONTH on Second Life?! Holy crap, that's like a whole work week. Is it just like the rest of the Internet, people connecting via blogs and online dating? Or is it something more, the only way we'll connect in the future? I'd love to meet someone who can tell me what's cool about it.
At the risk of sounding like someone's grandmother, are people living a second life instead of a RL? (In SL, an RL means real life.) I used to work with a guy who was very sweet but seemed a little lonely. He had a four year old daughter and lit up whenever I asked about her. One day I said something about Second Life and he said he wife "was on there all the time." They have a four year old, he's working and she's living life online? It's a good thing it isn't that expensive or people would be losing their RL homes to buy land in SL.
This is what I have been able to ascertain so far:
1) The worlds are created by users so it either looks like our world or looks like someone's sci-fi version. In other words, most of it is hideously ugly. I expected it to be much weirder and "out there". This is just like the real world except badly drawn.
2) The activities, while fantastic (like flying) are only happening on a computer screen. What happened to the REAL futuristic technology of simulated reality? Let's just plug into The Matrix already! Honestly, I think I'd rather go to Disneyland.
3) Video games are created by artists and writers - they have details, a history, they have an objective, they make sense. This just seems haphazard to me. Here's a question. Does a man living in SL as a woman have the same experience as a man cross-dressing in RL? Otherwise, what's the point right?
4) It has rapidly been taken over by what else, sex. I guess most people want their second life to have more/weirder sex. Except again, let me remind you that there's no actual sex. At best you're watching your badly animated avatar humping another one. (Realistic body parts cost extra) Yuck!
5) Every business on the planet has jumped on board and as usual has no idea why. They don't even know what it is they just hear the numbers of how many people (i.e. consumers) are online and want a piece of the action.
Wired published a traveler's guide because, of course, they have an office there.
They list three minor "hazards and annoyances":
1) It's confusing and can be difficult to master even the simplest of actions.
2) Crowded places slow your frame rate to a slow crawl, apparently just a fact of life in SL.
3) It's ugly and overwhelming (already noted).
Gee, maybe I was being too harsh before. It sounds fun. I wonder if people are spending 40 hours a month on it because that's how long it takes to learn things and refresh the screen. Ha ha ha. Here's something potentially interesting. Virtual Hallucinations was created by UC Davis medical staff to simulate the audiovisual hallucinations associated with schizophrenia. Wander through and voices tell you to kill yourself. If you look in the mirror, a death mask stares back. (Educational!) This is at least on the right track, experiencing how other people see the world, but not nearly as impressive as the virtual reality chambers being used to treat soldiers suffering from PSTD.
Browsing photos on Flickr of residents' Second Lives, I get a sense of the appeal. It's a creative outlet for the average person. Without any special technical abilities, anyone can create a character, a world, or a product and see it move and interact with other people's creations. I can dig that. I still don't think it's for me but if anyone has done it and liked it, I want to hear about it!
Friday, June 22, 2007
Moving into the light of discovery
I am just coming out of what has been one of the darkest moments of my history. Hard to believe because I only lost my job. I am still healthy, everyone I love is still alive, and I have not been swallowed by destitution. Far from it. My darkness is from within but that does not necessarily make it easier to overcome. It's ironic, or perhaps appropriate, that I would become unemployed at this moment in time.
I have been wrestling the last couple of years with my purpose in life. Almost seven years ago I gleefully left my job in marketing to move to Los Angeles and pursue acting. I felt very strongly that it was my calling. I said at the time that “I wanted to make people feel.” I suppose I have always in some way wanted to influence and inspire. Whether via my interest in politics or marketing for that matter, or more recently, filmmaking and writing. However, the pursuit of show business can make one weary and diminish the fire that once burned. I made a decision a little more than a year ago to give up acting and, tired of living in poverty, went back to marketing.
That's where the darkness began. I started questioning my motivation for staying in Los Angeles since I had begrudgingly moved here from beautiful Seattle. I miss the clouds, the rain, the fresh air. I despise driving in the city so much that it has, at times, made a recluse out of me. At the same time, marketing was never something I wanted, just something I fell into and happened to be good at. With a beautiful apartment in Santa Monica and a full-time job, I stopped doing anything other than working and one other thing: writing my blog.
It is probably this blog that has saved me from despair since I feel compelled to explain myself. I started it and I can't give up on it. The blog demands to know what's on my mind. Yet I have not written about the guilt I struggle with. What gives me the right, I wonder, to require that my life have meaning? That my work have meaning? Why do I not seem capable of just having a job? I struggle with feelings of inadequacy and at the same time a sense of fate. I am meant for something valuable, I know that I am. I know that I have something to offer the world, something yet to be discovered. It could be a film that I have dreamed of making, a blog entry that I will write, it could be a non-profit that I am to launch or a bid for public office that I have not yet made. My greatest fear, the blackness that surrounds me, is that I will live an unexamined life.
I'm reading Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, And Steel, the 400+ page Pulitzer Prize winning book that seeks to answer the question “Why did history unfold differently on different continents?” I'm only a quarter of the way through and yet I've already learned something very fascinating. Diamond seeks to explain how it is that in 1532 Francisco Pizarro with only 62 soldiers on horseback and 106 on foot was able to defeat Atahuallpa's army of 80,000 in modern-day Peru?
Even though the Spanish conquest of the New World began in 1510, no news of this had reached the Incas, 600 miles to the South. When Pizarro first landed on the Peruvian coast in 1527 he was not seen as a threat because Atahuallpa didn't know that only a decade earlier, the Spanish explorer Hernan Cortes captured and killed Montezuma in Mexico, defeating the Aztecs. The people of the New World did not yet have a written language and no way of sharing such information.
While Pizarro replicated Cortes' strategy exactly, published back home, the Incas had never heard of anything like this happening. When Pizarro demanded a ransom of a gold-filled room for the release of Atahuallpa, the latter believed he would be let go when they provided it. But he was executed just as Montezuma had been. While it is not the sole cause of the defeat, literacy – the ability to learn and know about other peoples' experiences – gave the Spanish an advantage over those living without knowledge of anything they themselves had not experienced.
Several years ago, when I was in a similar place of not knowing what I wanted to do, I considered going back to school to study archeology and instead chose acting (naturally!) But I still love to read about history because I think there is so much to be learned from our past and from other cultures. I think this is how the blog fits into my life. It is where I examine and attempt to understand humanity and myself. It motivates me to be literate, it forces me to look beyond my life and ultimately live life in the light of discovery.
I have been wrestling the last couple of years with my purpose in life. Almost seven years ago I gleefully left my job in marketing to move to Los Angeles and pursue acting. I felt very strongly that it was my calling. I said at the time that “I wanted to make people feel.” I suppose I have always in some way wanted to influence and inspire. Whether via my interest in politics or marketing for that matter, or more recently, filmmaking and writing. However, the pursuit of show business can make one weary and diminish the fire that once burned. I made a decision a little more than a year ago to give up acting and, tired of living in poverty, went back to marketing.
That's where the darkness began. I started questioning my motivation for staying in Los Angeles since I had begrudgingly moved here from beautiful Seattle. I miss the clouds, the rain, the fresh air. I despise driving in the city so much that it has, at times, made a recluse out of me. At the same time, marketing was never something I wanted, just something I fell into and happened to be good at. With a beautiful apartment in Santa Monica and a full-time job, I stopped doing anything other than working and one other thing: writing my blog.
It is probably this blog that has saved me from despair since I feel compelled to explain myself. I started it and I can't give up on it. The blog demands to know what's on my mind. Yet I have not written about the guilt I struggle with. What gives me the right, I wonder, to require that my life have meaning? That my work have meaning? Why do I not seem capable of just having a job? I struggle with feelings of inadequacy and at the same time a sense of fate. I am meant for something valuable, I know that I am. I know that I have something to offer the world, something yet to be discovered. It could be a film that I have dreamed of making, a blog entry that I will write, it could be a non-profit that I am to launch or a bid for public office that I have not yet made. My greatest fear, the blackness that surrounds me, is that I will live an unexamined life.
I'm reading Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, And Steel, the 400+ page Pulitzer Prize winning book that seeks to answer the question “Why did history unfold differently on different continents?” I'm only a quarter of the way through and yet I've already learned something very fascinating. Diamond seeks to explain how it is that in 1532 Francisco Pizarro with only 62 soldiers on horseback and 106 on foot was able to defeat Atahuallpa's army of 80,000 in modern-day Peru?
Even though the Spanish conquest of the New World began in 1510, no news of this had reached the Incas, 600 miles to the South. When Pizarro first landed on the Peruvian coast in 1527 he was not seen as a threat because Atahuallpa didn't know that only a decade earlier, the Spanish explorer Hernan Cortes captured and killed Montezuma in Mexico, defeating the Aztecs. The people of the New World did not yet have a written language and no way of sharing such information.
While Pizarro replicated Cortes' strategy exactly, published back home, the Incas had never heard of anything like this happening. When Pizarro demanded a ransom of a gold-filled room for the release of Atahuallpa, the latter believed he would be let go when they provided it. But he was executed just as Montezuma had been. While it is not the sole cause of the defeat, literacy – the ability to learn and know about other peoples' experiences – gave the Spanish an advantage over those living without knowledge of anything they themselves had not experienced.
Several years ago, when I was in a similar place of not knowing what I wanted to do, I considered going back to school to study archeology and instead chose acting (naturally!) But I still love to read about history because I think there is so much to be learned from our past and from other cultures. I think this is how the blog fits into my life. It is where I examine and attempt to understand humanity and myself. It motivates me to be literate, it forces me to look beyond my life and ultimately live life in the light of discovery.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Accidental pregnancy is hilarious
I went to see Knocked Up last night with a guy I've been seeing. A couple of weeks ago when he first mentioned it, I had it confused with an ad I'd seen for an awful concept movie about a guy getting pregnant. When I saw the trailer and realized it was not that movie, I found a new reason to be irritated. Are we supposed to believe that an attractive woman with a lot going for her would a) sleep with this guy b) decide to have his baby and c) actually raise it with him? What a load of horse shit!
The night before, I'd seen Waitress with a friend. Another comedy about accidental pregnancy but from a distinctly female (and more realistic) point of view. She doesn't tell the father (even though it's her jerk husband), she doesn't try to make it work "for the baby" (and instead has a delicious affair) and in the end it's she who matures into a person who can now do what's best.
I remembered an hour into Knocked Up that I'd heard it wasn't a date movie. I felt a little sick watching men act like misbehaved little boys. My date, twice as old as the main character, was laughing his ass off at their inane antics. The kind of stuff that makes women roll their eyes and wonder why we've ever had sex with a man. I found myself swearing I'd never do it again.
In the film, the guys totally stick up for each other despite their obvious shortcomings or perhaps because of them. My date, defending the main character from my pre-movie critique felt compelled to say after each scene "I like him! He's sweet." I remarked, maturely, "well maybe YOU should marry him." I started to notice that the whole movie had this male love thing going on and my date was joyfully participating. I was kind of touched but also felt compelled not to hold his hand anymore.
But then the sick feeling suddenly dissipated. The story had slipped into a mature and insightful observation of the relationships between men and women and what it means to be an adult. I was hooked. It was intense - there really isn't anything funny about accidentally getting pregnant - and yet it was still silly and funny. I started marveling at how a man could take such a complex approach to gender relations. Judd Apatow remarkably did the same thing with 40-Year Old Virgin. Took a totally implausible premise and made it work in a real, not insulting, stupid fairy-tale way.
I was reminded of something a male friend of mine always says, that geeks are the best lovers. They have to be, he says, because they can't rely on their good looks or cool factor to get them laid. They actually have to work at it. Get to know women and what makes them tick. I started to think, that must explain how Apatow can so accurately represent his own gender in relation to women.
He sets us up thinking he's going to defend this stupid behavior but he's really allowing our characters to be vulnerable in front of us so he can turn them on their heads and say, if you want more, if you want a woman, a family, a life, you might have to work at it. My date loved the movie and I had to admit, it worked. Even though I felt like someone had snuck up behind me and whacked me over the head, it did make me laugh.
While I thought the main character's arc was completely flat - who was she? what did she want? and what was her conflict? - the storyline of the sister's family (brilliantly played by Apatow's real life wife and kids) was wonderfully satisfying. It's no 40-Year Old Virgin but it's still pioneering a better kind of comedy.
The night before, I'd seen Waitress with a friend. Another comedy about accidental pregnancy but from a distinctly female (and more realistic) point of view. She doesn't tell the father (even though it's her jerk husband), she doesn't try to make it work "for the baby" (and instead has a delicious affair) and in the end it's she who matures into a person who can now do what's best.
I remembered an hour into Knocked Up that I'd heard it wasn't a date movie. I felt a little sick watching men act like misbehaved little boys. My date, twice as old as the main character, was laughing his ass off at their inane antics. The kind of stuff that makes women roll their eyes and wonder why we've ever had sex with a man. I found myself swearing I'd never do it again.
In the film, the guys totally stick up for each other despite their obvious shortcomings or perhaps because of them. My date, defending the main character from my pre-movie critique felt compelled to say after each scene "I like him! He's sweet." I remarked, maturely, "well maybe YOU should marry him." I started to notice that the whole movie had this male love thing going on and my date was joyfully participating. I was kind of touched but also felt compelled not to hold his hand anymore.
But then the sick feeling suddenly dissipated. The story had slipped into a mature and insightful observation of the relationships between men and women and what it means to be an adult. I was hooked. It was intense - there really isn't anything funny about accidentally getting pregnant - and yet it was still silly and funny. I started marveling at how a man could take such a complex approach to gender relations. Judd Apatow remarkably did the same thing with 40-Year Old Virgin. Took a totally implausible premise and made it work in a real, not insulting, stupid fairy-tale way.
I was reminded of something a male friend of mine always says, that geeks are the best lovers. They have to be, he says, because they can't rely on their good looks or cool factor to get them laid. They actually have to work at it. Get to know women and what makes them tick. I started to think, that must explain how Apatow can so accurately represent his own gender in relation to women.
He sets us up thinking he's going to defend this stupid behavior but he's really allowing our characters to be vulnerable in front of us so he can turn them on their heads and say, if you want more, if you want a woman, a family, a life, you might have to work at it. My date loved the movie and I had to admit, it worked. Even though I felt like someone had snuck up behind me and whacked me over the head, it did make me laugh.
While I thought the main character's arc was completely flat - who was she? what did she want? and what was her conflict? - the storyline of the sister's family (brilliantly played by Apatow's real life wife and kids) was wonderfully satisfying. It's no 40-Year Old Virgin but it's still pioneering a better kind of comedy.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Life raft
I'm working on a project for a friend on mine and came across a fantastic blog all about book designs, covers and such. It's really interesting and well done. I have friends with blogs about t-shirts (there are actually dozens in this category) and soda and have come across the most unusual specialty blogs.
They remind me that 3.5 months into mine I still have no idea what it's about. Ha ha ha. Sounds like the perfect metaphor for my life. I've always wanted to be some kind of expert or specialist (it's supposedly a very Scorpio characteristic) and yet I find myself adrift in an ocean while interests of all kinds drift by offering to be my life raft. And I cannot decide.
They remind me that 3.5 months into mine I still have no idea what it's about. Ha ha ha. Sounds like the perfect metaphor for my life. I've always wanted to be some kind of expert or specialist (it's supposedly a very Scorpio characteristic) and yet I find myself adrift in an ocean while interests of all kinds drift by offering to be my life raft. And I cannot decide.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Too much potential
I'm sorry about the weak posts lately. I've got so many good ideas floating around, ten written on a notepad to write about, but I've really been thrown by this layoff. I'm having a hard time motivating myself to get another similar job even though I am running out of money and know I can't go on like this. I'm at a crossroads and now I have to quickly figure out my next move.
I've been out of work a full THREE WEEKS now. I interviewed for one job, met with a recruiter and have been contacted about some freelance work but nothing has materialized so far. I applied for some interesting jobs but they're long shots - moving into new territory. Everything points to the fact that it's time I start my own business.
An old boss of mine said once that I had too much potential. He was comparing me to himself; he said he envied people who could only do one thing. He used to work with Jim Carrey and he said that guy would have starved if he didn't make it. The only thing he could do was be funny. There was no plan B, no other interests, no diversions from the goal. People like that, he said, succeed because they have no choice. People like us, however, who are capable of so much, can get lost in possibility.
It's true that I am good at a lot of things. And I have recently come to realize that I don't have to do everything I am good at. I need to find out what I love to do, what makes me happy and then UTILIZE what I'm good at to do it. The recruiter I met this week said "at some point, people like you have to make their own job." If I don't, I will keep allowing other people to define what I should do.
So I'm going to try it. I'm working on a business plan this weekend for a marketing company with a friend of mine in a similar place. By putting it on this blog, I make it a reality. Wish me luck.
I've been out of work a full THREE WEEKS now. I interviewed for one job, met with a recruiter and have been contacted about some freelance work but nothing has materialized so far. I applied for some interesting jobs but they're long shots - moving into new territory. Everything points to the fact that it's time I start my own business.
An old boss of mine said once that I had too much potential. He was comparing me to himself; he said he envied people who could only do one thing. He used to work with Jim Carrey and he said that guy would have starved if he didn't make it. The only thing he could do was be funny. There was no plan B, no other interests, no diversions from the goal. People like that, he said, succeed because they have no choice. People like us, however, who are capable of so much, can get lost in possibility.
It's true that I am good at a lot of things. And I have recently come to realize that I don't have to do everything I am good at. I need to find out what I love to do, what makes me happy and then UTILIZE what I'm good at to do it. The recruiter I met this week said "at some point, people like you have to make their own job." If I don't, I will keep allowing other people to define what I should do.
So I'm going to try it. I'm working on a business plan this weekend for a marketing company with a friend of mine in a similar place. By putting it on this blog, I make it a reality. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Expanding food
I just got back from four days with the nephews and have some blogging to catch up on. My first day there we climbed to the top of Multnomah Falls on the Columbia River. Here's me in front of the falls with my youngest nephew.
It was one of a series of weekly "challenges" my brother, his wife and her family are doing as part of a group diet. At the end of the climb, they did a weigh in. The winner of the weekly weight in wins the pot of money they all put in. I thought it was very inspiring, a great way to support each other.
At home, their refrigerator was stocked with fruits and vegetables. We packed lunches every day to avoid eating fatty food out. My sister-in-law said, "it's not so much that we eat bad food, it's that we eat too much." Americans have long enjoyed a varied bounty of inexpensive food. When I got back from India ten years ago and made a trip to the grocery store, I was floored by the enormous fruits and vegetables in the store. After two months in another country looking at normal-sized produce, these genetically-modified, chemically-enhanced monstrosities seemed cartoon-like, blown way out of proportion.
I felt for my brother and his wife. What an uphill battle they're fighting. Everything about our culture encourages people to eat more. I've done a couple of cleanses/fasts and learned that you can't watch television on one. Every few minutes there's a commercial for fast food. I don't even notice them normally but on a diet, juicy burgers dripping with cheese and bacon suddenly become the most delicious-looking thing I've ever seen.
On the plane back to LA, there was an column in Southwest's Spirit Magazine called The Numbers. "The bagel has grown three inches since 1987" was the headline. I thought something was amiss! Our food has been expanding at such a steady rate that we hardly notice we're suddenly eating three times as much. "But I only ate one!" Up from 140 calories, the new bagel has 350. The muffin has increased from 1.5 oz to 4 oz since 1987. The cookie has grown 2 inches in diameter from 1.5 to 3.5. The 2.4 oz portion of French fries is now 6.9 oz (and has 8g of trans-fats.)
One of our picnics included smallish turkey sandwiches with tomato and sprouts, carrots and hummous, a single serving each of a potato salad with olive oil and orzo rice salad to share, a green salad and almonds. My brother felt like he ate a lot, "I just kept eating and eating but I didn't feel full," he said. I told him that the body can function without ever feeling full and in fact the feeling indicates that we've eaten too much. Because of the giant portions we're served in restaurants these days, we have come to believe we shouldn't stop eating until it hurts.
My sister-in-law lost eight pounds that week but didn't win the pool. Someone else lost twelve. Keep up the good work y'all!
It was one of a series of weekly "challenges" my brother, his wife and her family are doing as part of a group diet. At the end of the climb, they did a weigh in. The winner of the weekly weight in wins the pot of money they all put in. I thought it was very inspiring, a great way to support each other.
At home, their refrigerator was stocked with fruits and vegetables. We packed lunches every day to avoid eating fatty food out. My sister-in-law said, "it's not so much that we eat bad food, it's that we eat too much." Americans have long enjoyed a varied bounty of inexpensive food. When I got back from India ten years ago and made a trip to the grocery store, I was floored by the enormous fruits and vegetables in the store. After two months in another country looking at normal-sized produce, these genetically-modified, chemically-enhanced monstrosities seemed cartoon-like, blown way out of proportion.
I felt for my brother and his wife. What an uphill battle they're fighting. Everything about our culture encourages people to eat more. I've done a couple of cleanses/fasts and learned that you can't watch television on one. Every few minutes there's a commercial for fast food. I don't even notice them normally but on a diet, juicy burgers dripping with cheese and bacon suddenly become the most delicious-looking thing I've ever seen.
On the plane back to LA, there was an column in Southwest's Spirit Magazine called The Numbers. "The bagel has grown three inches since 1987" was the headline. I thought something was amiss! Our food has been expanding at such a steady rate that we hardly notice we're suddenly eating three times as much. "But I only ate one!" Up from 140 calories, the new bagel has 350. The muffin has increased from 1.5 oz to 4 oz since 1987. The cookie has grown 2 inches in diameter from 1.5 to 3.5. The 2.4 oz portion of French fries is now 6.9 oz (and has 8g of trans-fats.)
One of our picnics included smallish turkey sandwiches with tomato and sprouts, carrots and hummous, a single serving each of a potato salad with olive oil and orzo rice salad to share, a green salad and almonds. My brother felt like he ate a lot, "I just kept eating and eating but I didn't feel full," he said. I told him that the body can function without ever feeling full and in fact the feeling indicates that we've eaten too much. Because of the giant portions we're served in restaurants these days, we have come to believe we shouldn't stop eating until it hurts.
My sister-in-law lost eight pounds that week but didn't win the pool. Someone else lost twelve. Keep up the good work y'all!
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