Blowing Kisses and Making Wishes

Writing this on a bus on the way to the boat that will take me to the beach. (More on that on the next post.) Aside from the cameos and the brief domestic dispute, the past couple of weeks have been mostly an exhibition of how my life revolves around the relatively tiny office I work in now. I've decided to take a break from doing comedy and other shit, since my mind has been riddled by questions of the future.

The office, all on its own, has presented a myriad of experiences that would make for a rather passable screenplay, as my comparison of the office towards school has been surprisingly accurate. I have yet to meet a single completely balanced person in that place, and that's exactly how I like my work place.

Starting November Right. When November 1 rolled around, I was at the office still working at an unusually slow pace. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I've gone on record to mention that it's my Christmas. So despite the fact that I was in a workplace that I liked a lot, I was still bummed about the whole missing out on Halloween thing. It was a good thing I wasn't the only one, as three other regular night toilers decided to drop everything and go out drinking. So there I was, on Halloween, in a bar that I know so well, surrounded by waiters and waitresses in costume, and I was happy. So happy that I could sing. And I did… on stage, alongside with a teammate who, over the past couple of weeks, I've gotten to know and learned I like a lot.

As egotistical as it may sound, he reminds me of me when I was his age. Young, living alone, putting on the happy face while glimpses of a level of despair and even anger shine through from time to time. My first impulse when I sensed this parallelism was to speak to him, share my own experiences and shit like that, but if I'm accurate in my assumption about him, he wouldn't have any of it. Hell, I wouldn't have any part of that when I was his age. I could write a fucking book on the stupid advice I've gotten from people over the years. Words of optimism from people who've never had problems, financial and career advice from people who were born with everything handed to them, relationship advice from people who've either had exclusively shitty relationships or no relationships at all, all that bugged the living hell out of me back then (and even as recently as six months ago)because of how similar I think me and this brash young man may be, I know on good authority that the best thing to do is to just be there. That's what people like him and me really need, people just being there.

Fire! Unbeknownst to me at the time, the day after Halloween, I nearly died. Someone left a candle burning while I slept, alone in my, I guess, new Fortress. It was outside the house, and it was big enough that the neighbors had to call certain relatives to put it out. elite my keen observation skills, all of this went unnoticed. I woke up, showered, got dressed and went to work. I found out the day later.

Fuck. Dying ahead of schedule would be a real bummer.

The Breakfast Club. Aside from the young me, I've gotten to know the rest of the team, who seem to have made team breakfasts their own signature move. There's an interesting dichotomy here, and in my humble opinion, I'm fortunate to be a part of the only team in the company that actually looks like a team. Most of everyone gets along in a manner wherein there's a level of honesty there that transcends professional relationships. I'd like to think of them as friends, though I'm sure there's still quite a ways to go before the whole friends thing comes into fruition. I, for one, am willing to wait for that day.

The Audition and the Reunion. Since that little epiphany from the fire-gone-unnoticed, I went and answered a casting call for a thesis film despite the fact that I haven't slept yet that weekend; it's hella faraway; and I don't like doing student projects. (It was alright when I was a student too, but I think hanging out with college kids and not as their teacher at this point of my life is a tad wasteful.) Still, no day but today, right? So I went, got lost, finally found the place, only to discover that they were students of a teacher I thoroughly hated back in college. Hence, the logical solution was obvious: audition while drunk.

After the audition, I wanted to unwind, and since I was in the Island Girl's neck of the woods, we hung out. We finally got to talk about some of the things from the past in greater detail, and it does feel good to have certain things out in the open like that. I still wanted to talk about the other effects of what happened, effects that I never really told anyone, effects that manifested itself in following relationships. But, there will be a time and place for that, I guess.

Still, all's good from where I sit.

Erin and I. Oh, I told the office crush that she was the office crush. You know, fire and all. For details of her feedback, watch that scene from Empire Strikes Back, before Han gets frozen in carbonate.

Domestic Problems. For almost every week, I've been given a reason to regret the fact that I did what my mother wanted and moved into her old house. First there was the haircut inducing inanity, then there's that fire I mentioned. A week passes and lo and behold, I get the privilege to watch some unnecessary drama unfold at 9 in the morning, after I've had a mere two and a half hours of sleep. Seriously, this is the exact same bullshit that made me move out repeatedly for years. How bad was it? Well, it was so bad that I, the guy who never shows up for work before lunch time, got up, showered, got dressed, and headed to the office as fast as I could. By 10:30 AM, people were already asking what was wrong with me.

Most people would say that the mature thing to do is to be understanding and be the bigger person and to remember that these things normally happen. The thing is, another mature thing to do is to point out how much of a waste of time bitching to each other truly is. I swear, a couple more episodes of this, and I'm packing my bags again.

Here Comes Trouble. I think people in the office aren't used to be being in such a foul mood, as a number of people actually checked on how I was doing. It was a bit strange, what with me being used to dealing with shit alone, but it was definitely welcome. Some people even took it to a higher level by, at my behest, got smashed with me that night. I won't name names and provide details, but let's just say that it was so bad, we got an e-mail from the boss that threatened action in the event that our little adventure gets in the way of work.

It was exactly what I needed.

Pool party! Come weekend, another office-mate, part of the Life Coach's sorority had a birthday party and of course, I went, since spending 90% of the week with these people doesn't seem to be enough time together. Seriously though, it was fun. Me and younger me had a sing off wherein the loser wears booty shorts at the office, and of course, there were drinks, more moments with the Life Coach and that dude she's dating, and a bunch of other people at the office and a few who I didn't know.

It was refreshing, and it made me realize that even though my world has extremely narrowed down to just this one sphere, I don't I mind. Not yet at least. I've been moving around constantly for so long, meeting up with one group after the other from day to day, that it's good to have some sense of stability.

Plus, you know, free booze.

The Future. While of that has been going on, I've been dealing with what I was going to do regarding the mother and her boyfriend's company, and the offer (the request actually) to run it. After two weeks of deliberation, I finally sent an e-mail reply that consisted of four words: "Okay, I'll do it."

So now, what with the heart thingy feeling like it's getting worse, and the growing frustration I have on the domestic front, and my thoughts about cutting ties with people from the past (I'll get into the details about that once it seems necessary) I might have to leave the one aspect of my life that resembles anything normal to do… that. See, while the irony of the prodigal son becoming heir apparent is not lost on me, and there's nothing I hate more than carrying on someone else's work, with the way that the job was offered to me, there really wasn't any choice in the matter. (Another fact that's pissing me off.) It seems like ti was a planned thing, from getting me to come home and then this. Still, I already said yes, and I think I have two to six months to prepare anyways, so I'll cross (or burn) that bridge when necessary.

God, I feel like one of those jackass kids from my generation who I've been secretly criticizing over the years for just waiting for their parent's hand me downs. Hah.