So. Last week I sort of made the commitment to try really hard to stay positive, push for change, and search for direction. I haven't been consistent, but that's part of the struggle. Gettin' back on that horse, and having the presence of mind to get back on the horse quickly, rather than sleeping and crying for 3 more months. Anyway, I'm trying. I really need to make major changes. Mainly on the employment front, but also just internally, as previously discussed. I am so defeatist, and so ready to feel inferior. I go through phases of pretty intense insecurity. I suppose everyone does, but mine can really overtake me. I'm pleased to know that I don't overwhelm people with it anymore. That used to be a problem. I guess now I can just call a spade a spade.
Self-deprecation is good in some ways, and I don't think I'll ever be able to get past the habit, however it is ultimately not the best attribute to lug around with me. True self-deprecation, anyway. I think there is a kind of deprecation that can serve to improve self-esteem in a sense, so long as it's not pointed or harsh. The Jason Bateman, Michael Cera, Robert Downey sort. It's more to do with knowing who you are and being honest about it rather than being afraid that someone is going to identify a flaw of yours and therefore wanting to beat everyone to the punch. Or just hating yourself in general. I am guilty of all of the aforementioned uses.
Anyway. I'm challenging myself to see if I can stick to running, writing a short story, and reading a chapter of the Bible each day. Oh, and drinking water. That would be good. Also, wrapping up projects, applying EVERYWHERE and editing and submitting my stories and scripts to various things.
I finally cleaned my room today, so that's something.
In other life sort of happening news, alot of friends have had their birthdays recently. The most fun I've had in a while was my friend Kate's birthday. The youngun' turned 20, and her parents and half of her siblings were scattered about, so I spent the night before at her house and we dined on store-bought pizza and white wine (not the best combination, but it was all there was, truly) by candlelight (yes, this is what single girls do). 10 minutes till her birthday, we played Birthday by The Beatles and danced around like madmen for the duration, then went outside to enjoy the remainder of our wine and the evening air before midnight struck. Then the old lady fell asleep while watching Yellow Submarine (gasp. i may never trust her again). The next day I snuck downstairs to put up the birthday sign that another friend and I had worked on (Kate's family has a hand-made birthday sign tradition. like giant birthday cards). Afterwards, we tromped to muffins and coffee and downtown thrift store shopping (I procured a coat and outrageously odd shoes that... oddly match. I am Doris Day!). After that, we sauntered to The Old Vienna, a German resturant that we used to go to long ago when our group of friends all happened to attend German classes at VC. And after that, what ho. There was ice cream and old friends and shenanigans, but finally we all ended up back at Kate's house with creative drinks. We all sat around chit-chatting and generally feeling happy until Jon fetched his guitar and started playing Bowie songs (the theme of the day)-- we all lept into action and marched to bring out the cake-- a glorious cake with a picture of Bowie in his sequined jumper on it (dreamt up by myself). That really was a fine moment, all of us singing "STARMAN" instead of the birthday song and she blowing out the candles with glee. It was one of my happier moments, anyway. The whole night was generally fantastic-- we just ended up with cake, drinks, toasts, and lots of songs. We essentially sang all night long, silly voices that we all had (exception of Megan). Magic. Marvelous. I will think of it fondly for some time.
Jon also recently had his birthday, which only Megan was able to celebrate with him as he was working in LA that day. However I did bequeath to him a nice little photo album intended for his collection of disorganized photos. On the first few pages I included some to get him started-- some nice pictures from old times. Those were nice to sift through. I have many on my computer, and looking at Old Me just reminded me that I was actually quite nice-looking, and not fat as I repeatedly told myself I was. Of course, now I truly AM fat again... curses. Anyway. These are encouraging for me-- all I really need do is get back to THAT. I don't have to be skinny. Just normal-sized. That would be nice. I need to get some sort of weight loss plan going... I am open to suggestions, other than the obvious. I was large as a teen up until 16, then I lost a TON as soon as we moved here. By graduation I looked GOOD. And then I got all depressed in 2007 and I haven't made it back since. I don't know how to find that old, motivated mindset anymore, I just kind of feel dead in that way, about alot of things. Sigh. Look at how cute I was:
dang it all. i'll get there. that's what i mean-- that's what i have to keep saying. no more of this "fuck it all." you'll just get there.
My writing, too. I've been much better this past week at taking advantage of the fact that I'm unemployed. All writers are unemployed for forever anyway, aren't they? Yeah. They are. Still, sometimes I just can't handle this moneyless existence. I can't handle asking people to help me financially. I can't handle being even vaguely thought of as someone who's a bit of a loser. I keep thinking my non-immediate family must think that of me, mainly because they know I'm poor and unattached. All of my cousins except for the youngest (boy) are married now. Four of them have children now. Not that that is the end-all be-all of success, however I do believe that
1) Family and companionship, if desired, is definitely some measure of success.
2) Those who have it will usually deem those that have not as unlovable in some way. They either understand or they understand too well. Both are frightening.
3) If you are going to be "unlovable" as defined by other people, then you must at least be successful somehow. In my case, I should be a wunderkind. Sadly, I am just a semicreative person. No fireworks here.
Going it completely alone is a rough business. I like to think that being an artist basically instills you with a constant feeling of loneliness, which is why you have to produce constantly. I suppose I'm alright with that. Nevertheless, as I have said recently, going it alone during tough times is... tough. Especially very lately. I feel like I really need someone who can relate but who is also a bit stronger than I am.
Patricia Clarkson, the actress, when she spoke to us at LMU said something that I thought rang really true- that we as artists trying to "make it" should surround ourselves with people who GET IT, who will support us emotionally and appreciate us, who will encourage us, who will beat us up when we're being defeatist or ridiculous. Not to say that the relationship should revolve around the artist, obviously, but it's good to make friends with other artists or with those who have an appreciation. I feel tremendously on my own. And I feel tremendously selfish. I want someone to listen to ME talk about my ideas without my [insecure] feeling that that someone has a stopwatch behind their back.
OKAY that turned into a rant, what I started with originally was the fact that I need to be more positive. I'll get there. Something'll happen. I need to be that way about my writing as well as my personal development and every other bloody thing. As for being lonely, I don't suppose lonely, insecure people attractthose that might appreciate them (and i'm not even talking about just soulmates here).
Right now I'm looking into finding a venue and getting the a-ok from the publishing company to adapt and put on Franny and Zooey as a play. It would be a great outlet for me, and if it turns out as I would like, a tribute to my most favorite book and its author. I'm currently brainstorming about a creative way to tackle it.
Back to the old drawing board. And I say that in the most positive way.
I mean, WTF, God? Really?
