I feel old. In a bad way. I'm suddenly realizing how hard it is to be pushing thirty and have a Peter Pan complex. Back in my early to mid-twenties, people still find that sort of shit endearing. These days, I'm usually gazed upon with a slight tilt of the head and a cocked eyebrow of confusion. (Heh, I said cock.) Still, it's high time I reassessed certain aspirations, considering that I've been working non-stop for the past year or so just to cross off things on my little Bucket list. (Which I stupidly lost.)
On the upside, a lot of things down South are becoming quite the learning experiences. Primary lesson: it's hard being a comedian when 90% of the things you see don't make you laugh.
The (Relatively) New Faces of the South. The community I move in is ever growing, as evidenced by a surprise appearance from one of my favorite co-workers from the Evil Empire. Apparently, she has moved South and already experienced the wonders of living here. (She already had an encounter with a purse snatcher.) Of course, with The Therapist and I now sharing a workplace, Jo F'n Regis was sure to be not far behind. We have once again reclaimed Marbles, the way I used to do on a regular basis when I was in college.
I have slowly and surely made quite a home for myself here in the new Fortress, with The Therapist, Jo, The Sheltered Sons, SosoJeff and his wife, to a somewhat lesser degree The Gadgeteer, the people from Purgatory and my coworkers at the Think Tank all accessible at any time I wish. The mall i used to cut classes to hang out in back in high school is now five minutes away, and the bar I used to drink in back in college just as nearby, and with the girlfriend willing to make the trip South as often as possible, I think I have more than what I seem to need.
If only I could just slow things down even for a bit to enjoy all of these things.
Think Tank Troubles. In all my years of being employed, I never, ever had bothered to engage in a war of words with anyone.If things got bad, I either quit altogether (cause frankly, I wasn't wasting any energy on some corporate doof) or just plainly ignored the problem. But I actually like working in the Think Tank, mostly because it allows me the time to focus on my numerous pursuits while still enabling me to cover the bills and sustain my annoying habit of eating.
But then comes this dude who, in all honesty, has been taking a small portion of my contentment away just by trying to manage people in a manner which I could describe as a showcase of lack of direction. It's like he's torn between being the chummy boss and being Dr. Doom. (Ruthless, douchey, but effective.)
While I'm not an expert on how things are done in a corporate setting, I've handled projects and people before, and I have a good idea of what makes a diverse group f people work. Being a leader is a hard job, especially since it falls under your responsibility to understand the strengths, weaknesses, quirks, and personalities of every single member of your team. Most people see leadership as merely a title that automatically entitles one respect and obedience. My bosses from Purgatory and MTV earned everyone's respect by showing consistently that they deserved it without a single threat thrown around. They never had to remind people that were the leader. They just took every opportunity to prove themselves worthy.
For now, though, I got what I wanted out of the confrontation. Things are relatively okay now. I'm expecting a fallout, and as always, I'm not going down without a fight.
Three Goals. On one of my dies off, I decided to roam around a mall in the South, the one with the strip of bars beside it, and I figured to try my hand at acquiring a venue to establish stand up in. It was a bust, and even the short appearances of faces from the past was not enough to erase the fact that I once again have fallen in love with n activity that's nearly impossible to pull off.
The time alone afforded me the opportunity to narrow down my list of goals. I'm 29. In half a year, give or take, I'm turning thirty. It's a bitter pill to swallow, yes, but I'd rather not dwell on it. I'm focusing on just three things now: getting my comedy thing together, acquiring money and preparing for my 30th birthday.
The comedy thing, I already have a couple of plans for that. Ditto the money thing. The birthday, well that's a bit tricky, as I haven't decided yet between throwing a huge ass bash like I did when I turned 20, or if I'd be spending it in peaceful silence. For those who are reading this and actually want to give me something on the day I turn too old to be awesome, I'll gladly accept sweater vests, wheelchairs, wooden pipes, false teeth and other reminders that the only youthful thing I have now is my boyish good looks. (Boom.)
Discussions in a Gas Station. I met up with the Big Man on an early morning gas station minor drinking session to discuss the project. He seems all for it, but with his wife oh-so-close to popping out a new kid, I have a few doubts regrading the capacity he'll have on this new project of mind. It would be weird to not have him as my no. 2 on this particular sinking ship, as he usually is the one I go do stupid shit with. BUt he did commit, and it will be fun, especially once the Human Torch, the Gadgeteer, and the Uber-Geek sign on.
I'm excited, personally, to be focusing on something else again. Plus, an early morning talk in a nearly empty gas station has always been something I truly enjoyed.
The Immovable Audience. I actually got another opportunity to hit the mic again. It sucked. But it was a learning experience. Someday soon, if not me, one of my colleagues would be able to break that wall.