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Dear God,
I don't really actually believe in you, for reasons (and with qualifications) too numerous to outline here. Then I'd really be missing the point of this.
Anyway, it's like this. I'm stuck. I feel dumb. I know the economy has a lot to do with it, but I feel like all of the long hours for low and no pay I've put in over the last several years have all amounted to nothing. I can't get work in my field, or any field, it seems like, right now. I know I could probably get a crappy minimum wage job, but I couldn't even cover my expenses at minimum wage in this outrageously overpriced city, so forget that. I don't know how other people do it. I mean, I do know. Living in dangerous neighborhoods 8 or more to a two bedroom apartment.
Which brings me to one of my great moments of pause in this whole interior monologue. Things could be a lot worse. Things could be a lot worse for me just in this country's standard of living... And in other countries? Well. I could be living in a wood shack with only three walls, a tin roof, dirt floor, within smelling range of my town's al fresco toilet, which is really just a big hole in the ground half-full of dung and urine.
Which then makes me think that I actually have it pretty damn excellent, and I think statistically that's true. Which makes me sound like a spoiled brat when I say
But I thought it would be better than this. I thought adult life would have something *more*. I've worked really hard for a long time to become the person I am today, socially, intellectually, creatively, and I'm in a place where I think my best-case scenario is that I'm still just paying my dues. Worst case scenario is that regardless of whatever personal or creative or intellectual progress I myself make I will never financially make it in the city and I will have to declare bankruptcy and move in with my father and cry myself to sleep every night about what a horrible, wretched failure I am because somehow despite what I have accomplished and what I am capable of I am unable to support myself because the skill set I have developed, which are the same skills I have a natural aptitude for, have no significant financial value.
So, God, I guess this is where you come in. I wish someone could just tell me what to do. I wish there was a Department of Winning in the city where I could go and I could go see a Winning counselor and she would say "Okay, fill out these forms, bring them back here, and we'll tell you exactly what to do for the next four years and by that time you'll have a great career and be debt-free."
I would do that. At least I think so. I am pretty ornery and have a hard time following directions. But I'd like the opportunity to blindly follow someone else's correct plan for my life for a while. I've been doing what I want and what makes sense to me for a long time, working pretty hard at it, too, and it hasn't really worked out for me. I mean, in some senses, it really really has. I have everything that I want out of life.
Which then makes me think: Well boo-fucking-hoo. Hard knocks life for you.
I do, I have everything I want out of life except *money*. I've been living paycheck to paycheck pretty much since I moved here. I've had a few ups and downs, but I've been just barely squeaking by for years now. And I'd like to get a little bit ahead. I don't want to constantly be panicking at the end of every month just before everything magically comes together for me.
Again, boo-frigging-hoo.
I don't know. I think a lot of my frustration comes from jealousy. I see so many people in this city, even people I know, who are mostly in the same boat I am... struggling towards some sort of success, a solid work ethic, seeking validation for their work, and maintaining a good amount of progress and momentum. The difference is that if they fall, if they can't make rent or their electric bills, there is a safety net below... a place that will allow them to get back up, dust themselves off, and climb back up to the trapeze.
Last week I was working with this world famous avant garde artist and I asked him over lunch, "How long did it take? At what point in your career were you able to totally focus on your work because you had become successful enough to really support yourself without worrying too much? What did you change to get to that place of financial security."
And he gave a mirthless little laugh and said, "Well, I've really made no secret of it. When my father died he told me 'You won't be rich but you won't starve.' And that's basically it. My work has never been profitable. I lose money on everything I do. My father left me enough money when he died so that I can do that."
Which, you know, was not encouraging.
On the bright side, I'm not interested in being avant garde. I'm interesting in connecting with a broad, mainstream audience. That's an important part of my work and what I'm interested in. I just wish I didn't have to live in fear, every single month, of not being able to pay my rent, my electric, my gas, my grocery, my internet... Every month. I'm almost 30. What did I do wrong? And how do I fix it?
Dear God, is that where you come in for most people? To give them purpose? To give them specific directions about what to do and why?
Though I've heard that God is a lousy financial advisor, that he's more about purpose and direction and meaning and happiness and joy and all that. Which I've got, actually. I'm really just short on the financial thing.
I need a benefactor.
Anyone?
This article in the NYT magazine is very cute and should be read before it's locked away under the annoying passwords and subs needed.
And here's a question for That's Plenty, Can you name everything you've ever boughten at a Hot Topic? I bought a Rudimentary Peni 7" and this weird contraption, like reverse pliers, to get my old earrings out for when I visited my great uncle.
Looked like this, but silver, and basically had to put the metal edges in the hoop and squeeze and it would extend making the little ball drop out.
As it turns out, the mysterious mansion that is located on my old block on Gates Avenue in Bed-Stuy is called Gibbs Mansion. Probably owned by someone wealthy named Gibb in the 1850's, "the once-dilapidated mansion has been transformed into service-enriched housing for low-income community residents living with HIV/AIDS." Mystery solved!
Ah, reminiscing about Bed-Stuy architecture always brings me back to Broken Angel, featured in Dave Chappelle's Block Party for those of you who have never had the pleasure of living in Bed-Stuy. I've always wanted to see the documentary Broken Angel (1991) by Margot Niederland. Has anyone seen this?
At work today I had a problem connecting to the scanner. The error message told me that my computer was "unable to locate the TWAIN source." This prompted me to ask our IT consultant what TWAIN meant. As he could explain only TWAIN's function but not what it stood for, I was forced to consult Wikipedia to satiate my hunger for knowledge.
As it turns out, TWAIN is an acronym for "Technology (or Toolkit or Thing) Without An (or Any) Intelligent (or Important or Interesting) Name". This is my new favorite acronym.
What's your favorite acronym? Is it a recursive acronym?
Anyone have health insurance not from a spouse, parent or from work?
1) How many hours do you work a week?
2) Are you wasting your life?
3) Are you wasting your youth?
Last night I was involved in a heated discussion involving the word, "Methuselah". I repeatedly claimed that Methuselah meant giant monster, not unlike Leviathan. My adversary in turn kept changing the subject, trying to tell me what Leviathan means, even though I already knew (a biblical sea monster (often considered a big crocodile) and is commonly used as a synonym for large creature). Eventually I stopped arguing because I was too lazy to look it up and because my adversary clearly didn't care one way or another.
Well, adversary, and thatsplenty readers, I'll tell you anyway. I was pretty much right, but also sort of wrong. Methuselah is, like Leviathan, originally biblical. It is the name of the 969-year old guy. According to the Book of Genesis 5:27: "And all the days of Methuselah were nine hundred sixty and nine years: and he died." The word today can be used to refer a very old person, "I feel older than methuselah today. damn."
Methuselah is also the name of a 4700 year old tree in California. It used to be the oldest living thing in the world. Until they discovered a creosote bush was discovered that is thought to be 12,000 years old. But it doesn't even have a name, so it's probably a lie.
Tomorrow it's back to the old Alma Mater to see my remaining college friends bid Bennington farewell. However, I think I may have made a big mistake. In order to get a free commencement dinner, I committed to speaking on an alumni panel, offering suggestions and hints to graduating seniors. But as the day fast approaches, I'm starting to get a little nervous. I mean, how can I tell them that if they didn't pick up some sort of skill set at Bennington, it's kind of too late? How do you tell artists that you hope they like serving people coffee or answering phones? How do you tell them that if they didn't make any connections during FWTs, they should probably be prepared to whore themselves around for a few years? What can I say to them? Anyone? Anyone?
p.s. I'm also going to Bennington to buy Jim's moped. Maybe we can be moped buddies, Ryan? Mine's not a fire engine bike, but it is purple...and Dutch.
OOC any one have any insite into St. Kilpat's this year? Ya, know for old times sake..
Also, whacking day presents Snakes On A Plane trailer
Question Please tell me about your gentle mugging. I believe Sam, Dylan and Eric have all been mugged, ever so gently. Steven, have you? Is Milstein reading this? I think she may have coined the phrase.
Reply via comment or blog entry with appropriate montage theory of stolen images.
