Feeling kind of lonely, but working

I have been feeling really inspired creatively the last few days, or maybe couple of weeks. I've been writing sketches and performing them, doing stand-up, and have had ideas for movies and tv shows. All of that feels really good. Part of me feels a pressure to get something going right now. Luckily, for the first time in a while, in that respect I am firing all all cylinders.

But, I am feeling pretty lonely. Last weekend I didn't hang out with anyone for the first time in a while. I did an open mic, an improv show, and a sketch show, which was great, but I didn't get together with anyone to hang out. I tried with Kristin and Gilli on Friday night, but for whatever reason we missed each others phone calls. On Saturday, I invited people to go to the beach, but no one could go. Sunday, I didn't really try because I met up with Danny at 3:30pm to run the sketch I wrote.

I am struggling socially. I really don't know what to do. I feel I am a good friend to people that are in need of me, but it is rare that anyone is in need of me. I think I am a pretty fun guy to hang out with for the most part, but increasingly, people do not call me or ask me to do things. I have to call them and then a lot of times they don't pick up or I don't hear back from them. I think I am pretty funny and a good writer and performer, yet it is rare that people ask me to write with them or ask me to be in their sketches.

I don't mean to sound bitter or like I'm looking for anyone's pity, I'm really not. I had a friend in high school that would always get really upset when we didn't invite him to things and I always thought it was so lame, like "The fact that you act like that is what is causing us to treat you that way." Easier said when you are on the inside looking out.

I guess when it comes down to it I am looking for a sense of belonging. Unlike most of my friends, I don't live with my friends. I don't have an improv troupe I'm really close with that is practicing and doing shows regularly. I'm not working on some project with a bunch of people. I'm working a lot, but it is all by myself and frankly, I'm just tired of asking people to do stuff. I'm tired of calling people and asking people to do improv teams and work with me when no one ever wants to ask me to work with them. I'm tired of always having to call people to hang out and then never getting phone calls to invite me to things that they are doing, hardly ever.

I know this isn't totally true, people do ask me to do stuff every once in a while, but when I am out here in the Palisades, it feels so far away. I try to get over to the other side of town as much as possible but it's so hard. It is so hard to make new friends. I guess I am just feeling inadequate. I hate the fact that I'm a fucking intern. The place I work is cool, but fuck.

Now I'm going to have to get a serving job, which I am actually kind of happy about. I just want to be as busy as possible. Then maybe seeing people once a week or so wont seem like such a big deal. It just sucks when I see people's pictures going out to dinner and doing this or that and it seems like everything is happening without me.

Part of me is probably just feeling the effects of Stefan being gone last weekend. He always picks up the phone or gets back to me. When he is gone I feel like I've lost my lifeline sometimes.

Recollections A Day Later

It's been a day since I made my post, my love letter to the Occupy movement, and already doubts have begun to creep in. I think they are doubts that a lot of us wrestle with. There is something visceral about the movement that captivates me, yet at the same time, I see a bunch of college educated kids with MacBooks and Canon cameras, and I think, what really do you have to complain about--and I see myself. And I ask myself, what do I really have to complain about.

But then I have to remember, it is like I said. I can't be in that place, getting just enough to get by and be satisfied. So what would satisfy me? What would really satisfy me? What would be enough? In which world would I be happy? I can't say and I can't explain it, except to say that I think we can expect something more. We can expect more from our politicians, to actually try to reflect the will of their constituents rather than the will of the businesses that put money in their pockets. We can expect more from the companies we work for, to actually try and sell a valuable product rather than trying to extract money from people's pockets.

At the same time, there is a part of me that thinks the Occupiers should be focusing their energies on something more tangible. What if they used their energies toward contributing to society rather than tearing it down and rebuilding it anew?

Then again, what is more valuable than someone finally pointing out that our system is broken? But is it? This is the logic game I constantly get stuck in. For some, certainly it is broken and they claim to be the 99% against the 1%, but at the same time, they often seem the 1% against the 99%. What I mean by this is that only 1% really appear to be ready to protest and fight for what they want, the other 99% are happy to stay in their homes, go to their jobs, watch their tvs, and fuck around on their smart phones. I fall into that 99%. I've never been part of a protest or part of anything having to do with Occupy Wall Street and I think that is there hope, that other people that aren't participating are identifying with their cause. I do to an extent, but I can't force myself to jump in completely. There is something destructive and chaotic about it that I can't reconcile.

Even when you look at the French Revolution, I can't say that it really turned out for the best. It did, for a select few. But thousands of people died at the expense of the guillotine and Napoleon ended up taking over after it happened, so what did it really accomplish?

I guess democracy slowly trudges forward. It doesn't move as fast as any of us would like.

Occupy Calling

There it was, calling to me from the magazine rack: "Regime Change In America" was the headline. It was Adbusters, the Canadian magazine responsible for organizing the Occupy Movement in Zuccotti Park in New York almost nine months ago. As I went to pick it up, it felt like the beginning of a journey. Even touching it was titillating. In a way, I was ashamed of myself. Here I was in Barnes and Noble, drinking a sumatra blend grande coffee from Starbucks, waiting to go to Chipotle at the the Third Street Promenade, being a perfect little consumer in this land of freedom, and I was standing there, afraid to pick up a magazine.

I'm not sure where the fear came from, but almost without noticing it, this fear almost caused me to bypass the magazine all together and in fact, I looked at another magazine first, reading a short mundane article in Time about the private relationships of presidents. I learned nothing. As I put it back I looked down at Adbusters again and from the corner of the cover saw "May 18, Global #laughriot". I picked it up and gave it a quick flip and this was one of the first things I saw:

It spoke to me and jumped out because it didn't really seem to fit in with the rest of the magazine. To be clear, it's a picture of Rob Corddry as the clown on the show Children's Hospital. A few of my friends work on the show and I haven't seen too much of it, but I'm familiar enough with it. Right across the front of his face it says, "Postmodern Shit!" on his forehead, "How utterly cynical can we get" and at the top, "Trix".

Now this shocked me because it echoed a similar sentiment I've felt before and tried to forget, the fact that I am distracting myself from seeing something greater by constantly consuming and creating mindless entertainment. Postmodern entertainment, that may be "smarter" or "denser" than a primetime network sitcom like "Two and A Half Men" is still just as mindless, because at it's core, it is empty, it doesn't speak to anything, there is no point to it's existence beyond entertainment. That you feel smarter or fulfilled from having watched it is the trick it's played on you.

We live in a country with vast "wealth" and yet we aren't rich. We sit in front of screens almost all day, mostly to distract ourselves in an attempt to forget that we are powerless over our lives. We live in a country that values freedom over everything, yet increasingly we get the sense that we are not free or not as free as we thought.

Bradley Manning, the Army soldier that leaked classified government documents to Wikileaks has been in prison, without trial since July 2010, Julian Assange, the head of Wikileaks has been on house arrest in England, detained without trial since December 2010.

Now maybe you say, "That's just two people, it's not that big of a deal," but I think it is the detention of these people, as well as the "terrorists" at Guantanamo Bay and the arrest of the people at Occupy encampments that led me to be afraid of picking up this magazine and even considering to explore the idea that something is wrong with this country.

And something is wrong. America is a country without an identity and most of us seem perfectly content to stop searching for it, to keep smiles on our faces and hope and pray that the stock market keeps going up and that tomorrow we have food, water, and shelter. But there is something more to be gleaned from real freedom than just having our most basic needs satisfied. They have us right where they want us, in a place where we are placated just enough to keep quiet, where we keep playing their game and sending most of what is deservedly ours, up to the top.

In a few months, the Supreme Court is going to rule on The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act and it sounds like because Congress is forcing you to buy a product, that falls outside of what the federal government is legally aloud to do. But honestly, if you are sensible, you know the existence of our government and society forces you to buy products all the time. Many of us live in cities where we have to have cars in order to go to work or school or get basic necessities. If you have a car, you also have to have insurance. If you are born to a family that doesn't own land, you have no ability to make your own food, so you have to buy that. You have to pay for a place to live. You have to pay for energy. Soon you will have to pay for water and you already do in a lot of cases. So is it really so awful to have a law where you have to buy insurance? Isn't it more abhorrent to create a situation where a large number of people have no access to decent health care? Isn't it more abhorrent to create a system where everyone is forced to buy things all the time in a round about way that isn't written into the law?

I didn't have time to buy the magazine before my lunch, but afterward I was drawn back in to Barnes and Noble. I brought it home like a concealed weapon. One more conversation I don't want to have with my Aunt and Uncle, who work for corporate law firms and investment banks, respectively.

I've been trying to find the thing that incites me, that inspires me, the story that I want to be a part of and help tell. In 2008 we were all filled with hope at the prospect of President Barack Obama. I remember being in Silverlake the night he beat McCain and it feeling like New Years and the Forth of July, only better. Huge murals were all over town, people were joyous in celebration that eight years of what felt like a dictatorship was over. I have no doubt that if John McCain was president, things would be worse. It is important to remember in retrospect, we traded in a President who incited terrorists and started wars and financial crisis for one that is prudent in his language and actions and ends wars, or at least decreases there severity.

But Obama is not the story of 2012. Though he is marginally superior to a Republican candidate and I will be voting for him, he does not inspire the same feelings we had that night in 2008. Part of it is his fault. No doubt, there are positions he could take, that we all know he secretly espouses, concerning gay rights, or immigration that would fire up his base and get people inspired again, but it is likely he wont do this, because sadly, but honestly, he has turned out to be a politician. Most of the blame however lies with Congress, who's inaction has made the most powerful man in the world a prisoner in The White House. Congress is such a joke that the most important thing they've done in the last two years is pass bills to keep the government running. That's not an accomplishment.

The story of 2012 is the second chapter of the Occupy movement, a movement that was in its infancy in 2011 and then forgotten. It is here and it is a sleeper, though not to those in power. Adbusters has called on all Occupiers to descend on Chicago starting May 1st and culminating on May 18th for a day that was originally intend to disrupt the G8 and Nato summits that were to be happening simultaneously in Chicago.

When the G8 summit was moved to Camp David, the concept of the day was changed, though still to be based in Chicago to "Global Laugh Riot" a day of laughing and pranking to clarify what a joke the whole spectacle of the summits are. The Nato summit will still be happening in Chicago and it will be the first major showdown with protesters since the authoritarian law, HR 347. Here is what Adbusters had to say about HR 437:

"A week before the G8 Backdown, the US House of Representatives voted in near unanimous consensus in favor of an authoritarian law, HR 437, that makes it a federal crime to disrupt "Government business or official functions" or to enter any building where a 'person protected by the Secret Service is or will be temporarily visiting.' In other words, to mic check Obama is now a federal crime punishable by a year in prison. And so too is a banner drop if it takes place in any building that a 'protected' person might be visiting in the future, even if the jammers don't know it. And so is the anti-globalization tactic of blocking road access to a meeting of world elites, there is a special clause about that too. Obama signed the bill to law on March 9th."

Here are the demands of the Occupiers for the G8 summit:

1. Bring the financial fraudsters who triggered the meltdown of 2008 to justice

2. Implement a 1% Robin Hood Tax on all financial transactions and currency trades

3. Come up with a binding agreement on climate change with the utmost of urgency

Here are the demands of the Occupiers for the Nato summit:

1. Come out with a clear and unambiguous statement renouncing torture and extrajudicial assassinations

2. Start slowing the $1-trillion a year arms race by all means possible

3. Begin a passionate push for a nuclear-free world beginning with a nuclear-free Middle East

Those demands are simple things that people can get behind and coalesce the movement in a way that wasn't possible nine months ago.

But there is more to it than just simple demands. The very second page of the magazine states it clearly, "We are living through a centralized crisis of meaning." Explain to me the difference between a capitalist and a communist and a terrorist. Our society has taken these words and rendered them meaningless just the way the word "awesome" has become meaningless, by attaching them places where they do not belong. "Truthiness" as Colbert would say, has become the norm, and when everyone is spinning the facts, there is no longer an objective reality, rather a subjective reality formed by the collectives individual perceptions.

It reads, "The first step toward reimagining a world gone terribly wrong would be to stop the annihilation of those who have a different imagination - an imagination that is outside of capitalism as well as communism. An imagination which has an altogether different understanding of what constitutes happiness and fulfillment."

Finding a place for these people wouldn't be difficult in a society that truly valued imagination and creativity. Often it is claimed that America has those values, but the truth is many of our greatest minds, aside from a few strays are given an education in finance and payed by Goldman Sachs or JP Morgan.

Occupy can often sound like the work of liberal idealists, but there is something much more libertarian about the movement that often isn't recognized. Pundits sum it up like this: Tea Party is anti-government Occupy is anti-big business. But the truth is, Occupy is at once anti-government and anti-big business, it is anti those in control and they recognize that big business and big government are entity. Here's how they spell out the corruption when related to Mongolia and it works for the US as well, "Their society is now being set up on the model of a small elite group growing rich from selling resources while the masses live off handouts."

This is why the rich are so afraid of renewable energy sources. Without a resource to buy and sell, you lose the majority of your profit. Hydroelectric power has been readily available in the United States since 1882 and at the turn of 20th century provided us with 40% of our nations electricity. We continued down a different path not out of lack of ability, but out of lack of will from the powers that be.

In every facet of our society the powerful have reaped profits while destroying our community. From Adbusters:

"Housing has become a means not for building a community, but for extracting wealth from it. Thus, the financial resources that used to go toward making our buildings beautiful, now go to paying the interest charges and dividends of a few large corporations."

We are in a country and a people in debt, but in debt to whom? I would say many of us feel indebted to the Chinese laborers who work to make many of the products we so frivolously use, but do we feel indebted to our banks? Hell no. Should our government feel indebted to the banks? Hell no. Why are we in so much debt, when it is so detrimental to society and our future? Put succinctly, "Profits come from debt expansion, not debt reduction."

They want us to be in debt. They want us to keep paying that minimum balance and then be too poor to pay that traffic ticket and have to charge our debit card to the max again. They want our credit ratings to be low so we can get high interest car loans that have high monthly payments. They want government debt to balloon to the point where it is paying a dollar to a bank for every dollar it spends. It is a system that is broken and it is a system that is going to go.

The idea of Occupy is to break the system first, then go start rebuilding local communities. It is an interesting prospect, big goals that are hard to achieve, but extremely interesting none the less. I don't think I could find anything more fascinating than following this story and seeing where it takes me. It is so dense, so complicated, so polarizing, so scary, that I'm not sure I'll end up following it, but it is so magnetic that I don't know I'll be able to follow anything else.

I'll leave you what they left me with:

"A few people start breaking their old patterns, embracing what they live (and in the process discovering what they hate), daydreaming, questioning, rebelling. What happens naturally then according to the revolutionary past, is a groundswell of support for this new way of being, with more and more people empowered to perform new gestures 'unecumbered by history.'"

Something different...

So as you may have noticed, I've been increasingly absent from my blog recently. I guess a lot of things in my life are changing, mostly for the better and I haven't really found a need to write, but something happened today, or has been happening the last couple days. It sort of started recently when I watched the movie "Gonzo", I'd seen some of it before, it documents the career of Hunter S. Thompson and his brand of "Gonzo" journalism, which included incorporating himself into the narrative and often mixing fantasy and reality. One of the things I love about Hunter S. Thompson is that he seemed to have no inner critic. He said exactly what he thought and did exactly what he wanted to do at all times. Unfortunately, that probably lead to his early demise from greatness, due to a penchant for drugs and alcohol, but while he was at his peak his ability to capture truth was really amazing. Most of my favorite authors are at their core, non-fiction writers that are capturing a movement or a moment in history. Kerouac did it with the beat movement in On The Road and The Dharma Bums, Wolfe did it with the hippies in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Hunter S. Thompson did it with the McGovern v Nixon election in Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail, 1972 and Norman Mailer did it with the protest movement in The Armies of the Night. In a way, these were all hybrid author/journalists that sought to cover a story and in some cases embedded themselves into the narrative they created.

About 9 months ago, when the Occupy movement started, I was fresh out of the hospital and was on Twitter in the very early moments of the occupation of Zuccotti Park. Every part of my being was telling me to go to New York, not necessarily to join the movement, but at least to cover it and figure out what it was, in the way these great authors from the past did. It was unfortunate timing. I had just tried to drive to El Salvador and had spent a week in the hospital. I didn't have the money or the mental fortitude to tackle such a task, also I was afraid of #1: Freaking out my family. #2: Risking the support of my aunt and uncle as my uncle works at an investment bank and is highly conservative.

Well, something happened today. It excites me to even say that, being that most days nothing happens, or nothing that I would really consider notable or important. But today I felt something. I was in Barnes and Noble, waiting to get lunch with Kevin, when I saw an Adbusters magazine. Adbusters organized the Occupy Movement. I will save some of the description of that moment for later, but I saw that May 19th the Occupy movement is starting back up in Chicago.

I went and ate with Kevin and while we were walking back toward my car, I realized I had a therapy session that afternoon, at 2:15pm, it was 1:45pm. I told him he should go back to work and I would hand in Barnes and Noble and then head over to it, being that it was right up the street on Wilshire. I read the magazine a bit more and decided to purchase it. Then I went to my therapy appointment.

It was a scary subject for me to broach with my therapist. I was feeling a great deal of excitement because I wanted to go to Chicago and cover the Occupy movement. I wasn't sure how she would react to me saying that, but I just said it and when I did, she told me that it didn't sound like I was manic at all. It made me feel so good to know that I could follow my intuition and the voice inside my head and not be crazy, that I could finally turn off the inner critic that constantly says, "You shouldn't do that." or "You can't do that." and tust myself again.

So, I am going change up this blog a little bit and I am going to start writing it from the perspective of someone covering the Occupy movement, or more specifically (or I guess more generally) what freedom in America means and if it is being compromised, what the imprisonment of Bradley Manning and Julian Assange mean in regards to freedom and the American dream and a whole lot of other things. I will probably bring my personal life into it here and there as well. Sure, they are kind of big topics with a lot of baggage, but I'm going to try to tackle them the best I can.

I'm not sure where this journey is going to bring me, but whether I wanted it to or not, it found me today...

Dentist, Therapist, Blog Post

Had the day off today so I went to the dentist and got a cavity filled and a filling replaced. Then I went to the therapist. I started off the day waking up at the house of the girl I have been dating. She finally let me spend the night there. I don't even know that I've written a post since we started dating? St. Patricks Day, I almost certainly have since then, but I'm not sure if I wrote about it or not.

Any how, it has been pretty good so far. She seems to really like me, or the me I have been presenting thus far and she really likes movies and comedy, so it is really easy to get along with her. She was weird about having someone stay at her place, which I guess is a good thing, meaning she doesn't have guys over all the time, but everything was relatively comfortable once I was there.

I am feeling pretty cooped up living at my aunt and uncle's recently. I want to be out in the world, doing my thang, exactly how I want to do it, but I can't because I am living here. I have been commuting to the other side of town every day and it is really a pain in the ass to get back and forth regularly. I'm moving out soon. I have to. We'll see what happens with the money situation.

Interning at American Work has been going well so far, although it seems like it is going to be a long haul if I want to turn it into something. I am thinking that maybe I need to get a part time job or something for supplemental income. It doesn't really work out with me doing improv all weekend, but I guess something is going to have to take a back seat if I want to get the hell out of here.

My uncle sat me down and had a conversation with me a couple weeks ago about finding something to do with my life, like a more specific skill that I could use to get a job. I nodded and agreed with him, and I did agree with nearly everything he said, that the profession I'm going into is fraught with risk, that a lot of people aren't materially successful. It doesn't help that his neighbor is a writer and tried to commit suicide via shotgun to the head.

I doubt I will ever do anything else. There is nothing else I want to do or see myself happy doing. I think I just have to work 10x harder than I have thus far and really start doing everything I know I should be doing: writing scripts, standup, sketches, trying to get acting jobs... I've been doing improv so I'm good there. I don't think there is anything else I can do. Maybe I will find something else along the way.

I hear people upstairs right now and I haven't said "hi" yet, so I should probably go up, and they are probably eating dinner soon, so I should be around for that too, if I can. So I guess that's it for now, not the best update as a lot has happened, but better than nothing. More soon.

Sleep feels so good

So, I'm having one of those days. Not feelings particularly depressed, but just feeling like everything is a struggle. Eating is a struggle, getting out of the house is a struggle, writing this is a struggle. Even while I'm typing, it is hard to keep typing. All I want to do is get in bed and sleep. Laying down feels so good, like, you know how you feel when you wake up in the morning time on a weekend and you feel so perfectly comfortable lying in bed and you just fall back asleep? That's what it feels like when I lay down. I am trying hard to fight the urge to do that, but I don't know if I'll be able to. I woke up at 10:30am today, which isn't bad, except that I fell asleep before 12am. Hm. Maybe I'll just lie down for a minute.

Deep Thoughts

So it is Sunday night and a rare rainy day in LA. I haven't written a blog in a while and I don't really feel like playing catchup on everything that has been going on in my life, suffice it to say, it is a lot, like usual. I am writing tonight because I am having thoughts and feelings that I haven't had in a while. I used to feel like this a lot in high school, introspective, thinking and contemplating life and what it meant to be alive and who and what I wanted to be as I got older.

I think, as time has gone by and I've gotten older I get so caught up in just getting by each day that I forget about the larger stuff a lot of the time. I watched a documentary called "Magic Trip" with Stefan today about Ken Kesey and the merry pranksters and their trip to the Worlds Fair. There is something about the pure creation, freedom, exploration that is really moving to me.

In the movie, Kesey explains One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest and about how the bad guy of the movie isn't the nurse, that she is part of the institution and that it is the institution that is the bad guy, that the movie is really about the struggle of man and the machine, McMurphy loses because he fights the institution, the Chief wins by breaking free.

That is what the pranksters do in the movie, they don't struggle fighting against the ideas they are abjectly against, they instead pave their own path, exploring and creating everywhere along the way. They are truly free in every respect. It is interesting to see how different America was only half a century ago. They are sitting on top of a bus, driving down the highway and when a cop pulls them over they all jump out of the bus and start recording him with cameras. I can't imagine how many cops would be called, how many people would be tazed, how many thousands of dollars of fines would be thrust upon them. Of course, in another sense, the civil rights movement was just picking up steam at this time and there was still segregation in the South.

I sometimes wonder if there still even is a fight between man and machine. I don't think so. I think man and machine have merged. Man has become part of the machine and it is almost impossible to break out of it. I think about that with Apple, like the time before computers and digital technology as Eden, and we tasted the forbidden fruit and Eden was lost. It is no mistake that Apple's logo is an apple with a bite out of it. Some people have thought about technology and machines in that way for a long time, as something that is meant to liberate man, not enslave him. I go back and forth about how I feel about it.

I have wanted nothing more for most of my life than to escape from being part of that machine and now I am struggling to find a place in it, or figuring out whether I want a place in it at all. The Fleet Foxes lyric is "I was raised up believing, I was somehow unique, like a snowflake, distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see. And now after some thinking, I think I'd rather be, a functioning cog, in some great machinery, serving something beyond me."

Serving something beyond you is important. Here is the thing I am struggling with, my aunt had me read this book about mental illness and will power and in it, the author goes to great lengths to describe how people with mental illness have this aspiration for their life to be great, constantly romanticizing and intellectualizing, they are never okay with being average, having a normal job, raising a family, having a significant other and going through each day, like most everyone else does.

So which side should I fall on? When is it time to give up the dreams that I have and take whatever comes along?

It's an interesting question and not something I've figured out yet. Living a normal life would be a lot easier for me if I found success in the career path I am aiming for. I've been doing a ton of imrpov and I'm putting together a standup set and making sure I'm prepared with an original pilot and will start writing a spec script soon, so I'm prepared if this internship I'm at turns into a writer's assistant job.

Anyway, getting very tired. Everything looked really pretty tonight driving home as the rain clouds cleared out and the ocean shook around violently. More later. Sleep now.

Fork in the Road

So a lot has changed since Thursday of last week, when I got into a fight with my boss and left the office in the middle of the day and drove to Zuma and walked down the beach and tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

On Thursday my boss emailed me a long list of criticisms that he had never addressed before and they took me by complete surprise. Couple that with the fact that I was running back and forth across town stressing out about getting this DVD. The email really upset me and I wasn't really sure how to address it. I dropped his DVD off and told him I needed to take the rest of the day off, which of course, he said was "unacceptable". Everything to him is either a "disaster" or "unacceptable".

For the first time in months I disregarded my emails and just drove up the coast to be alone. Zuma was very empty, except for a few older couples walking around. It felt so good to have my bare feet walking on the wet sand and then down into the cold water of the Pacific. I walked up and then back down the beach over about an hour. Then I tried to lay down on my beach towel, but it was a bit too cold, so I left and went home.

I responded to my boss' email as straightforward and thoroughly as possible. I didn't want to incite him, but I also wanted to stick up for myself on the points where I felt like he was totally off base, I don't even want to get into the specifics, it makes me stressed just thinking about it and in the end, it doesn't even matter.

I don't work for Stan Brooks anymore. This is probably the last time I will write his name. I don't even like looking at it. I tried really hard to come into work with positive energy, but he sucked it all out of me. You know when everyone else that works on the project is telling you that you are doing a great job and your boss is being a dick that you aren't all in the wrong. When his accountant tells you, "I know how he is, you can vent to me," you can assume, the guy is a dick.

So the truth about Stan? His old company, Once Upon A Time, went bankrupt and he was sued because he didn't pay a lot of the people on the last project he did. His old assistant quit and left Los Angeles because of the stress from the job and because she was sick of "Hollywood types", aka, Stan.

On my first free day I went to Venice Beach and bought some cheap sunglasses and went and read my book about Nichola Tesla in the library. What an amazing guy. It is very safe to say, the modern world would not exist without him, or at least it would have been delayed a great many years. Many of the things he foresaw, worldwide wireless communication and wireless transmission of power are only now being realized, over a hundred years later. He believed he was going to achieve them in his lifetime, if only he could have found the financing.

Over the weekend, I got to do a lot of improv. I started my advanced study class and there are a lot of great, really fun people. My favorite exercise was when we did a montage as CEOs. We had no trouble taking it to the extreme. After that I went and hung out with Josh at his place and then with Jace and Justin. I felt kind of bad because I interrupted their smoking session. I know Jace will probably never smoke want to smoke with me again. I can't blame him. He saw me at my worst on the way to the hospital and in emergency. Anyway, I was there for a bit then went back to the Palisades.

My dad and uncle and aunt have all been really supportive. Their argument being he made a mistake in hiring the wrong person and you need to find a job that is right for you. That being said they are already on me about getting a recommendation from Stan, which I don't think is a good idea. I really want to give this internship I just landed a 100% go and see what happens.

Earlier this week I emailed American Work, Scot Armstrong's production company I was supposed to start working for before I went to work at Stan & Deliver. Jesus, I am so happy I will never have to correct someone, "Stan and Deliver" "Stand and Deliver?" "No, Stan and Deliver." Again. I can't wait to start this internship. They are helping produce the new NBC sitcom BFF and have been involved in a lot of great movies, Old School, Hangover, etc.

The tough thing is now I will have to be over on the other side of town Mon, Wed, Thu, Fri, Sat, Sun. Yipes.

Yes, on Sunday I also started a new practice group. It was a little stifled in our first practice, which I guess can be expected, but we have a lot to do before our first show at March Madness in a couple weeks. I have no doubt Sticky Nights would have had a much better show, but for whatever reason, maybe not having a coach? We didn't get in.

So, that is where I'm at. I am feeling really relieved and really good about my new direction. There is a lot of comedy and improv ahead in my life. Unfortunately, there is not a lot of money in the immediate future, but I am set up so that if I work hard I should be able to land a job that I like sooner or later. Just about keeping my aunt and uncle at bay until then.

Here we go!

Dad's Birthday

I'm at work right now, but things are really slow. My boss is in Toronto and is leaving to Boston today to teach a class at Brandeis, where he is an alumni, so I have a little time to write.

I am pretty worn out today, I don't know why that is, I went to bed pretty early last night and even got to sleep in a little bit later than usual. I've been feeling a lot less tired since we lowered my medication from 300mg to 200mg, but not feeling it today. I've been sipping on a coffee, but that hasn't done much of anything yet.

I flew in to Oakland on Friday to celebrate my Dad's birthday. He turned 64. He is starting to seem a little older these days. I mean, he slowed down a lot physically quite a while back, but his mind also doesn't seem as sharp as it has been in the past, but I guess that's what happens when you start to get old. Don't get me wrong, he is still totally capable and overall much sweeter and seemingly happier than when my brother and I were growing up.

I love flying. On both of my flights I got the window seat and looked out the window and tried to recognize all the different neighborhoods at night. It's funny, now that I am so used to looking at things from an ariel view, due to Google maps, when I am flying in a plane, I don't feel nearly as high up as I used to, that also has to do with the fact that the flight from LAX to OAK doesn't get you that high up.

When I was a kid, I remember seeing all the lights of the city glowing down below me filled me with wonder and awe, it seemed magical. Now I sort of deplore how we've taken the land and commandeered  it and used it for our own purposes. I like that part in the Arcade Fire song Sprawl II, where she sings, "and like a river the city lights shine, there calling at us come and find your kind." and then "and like a river the city lights shine, there screaming at us we don't need your kind." I think that is very true, how it has changed for me from a object of fascination to disdain. From up above you can really understand more how humans are just the world's biggest ants.

For some reason music sounds better while your up there too. I think it is quite literally, just a change of perspective.

On the way home I sat next to a young couple, probably a couple years younger than me and they were arguing when we first got on the plane. I really wanted to lean over and just say, "Listen, just give up now, this relationship isn't going to work out." The girl was begging for a fight, just like Kate used to do with me, but this guy was a true master. He some how turned everything on it's head and just by asking her questions about her day and seeming interested in her life put her in a good mood. It was quite masterful, he never got caught up in her negativity at all.

My brother, my dad, and I all went to "Home of Chicken and Waffels" on Saturday in the early afternoon. The story of this place is pretty funny. It used to be a Roscoe's, which is the home of chicken and waffels and the people that ran it basically stole their recipe, shut down, and opened up as Home of Chicken and Waffels. It was good.

Then I went to my brother's house. We jammed out on the guitar and he said he could tell I've been playing, which was a cool compliment, then he showed me Skyrim, which I bought him for Christmas and then his buddies Dan and AJ came over and we played some Mario Tennis from N64. He and Dan smoked pot while I was there, I did not. Was a minor accomplishment for myself.

That night, I took BART into the city. I didn't realize it at all until I was at Lafayette BART, but it was the first time I'd been to the city and the first time I had been at the Lafayette BART station since I had been with Kim. It is hard to believe that it was only seven months ago. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Josh was doing a script reading for an audition that I helped him out with and it was an Apatow comedy about a guy who finally finds the girl of his dreams and then they go on vaation and she dies. This is basically where I feel like I'm at with Kim. It's like she is dead. It's a shame. Well, we are both going to Courtney Sampson's wedding in October, so we will certainly see each other by then.

Anyway, I was on BART, more or less feeling like I wanted to break down in tears, remembering the specifics of that night, which, for my own sake I'm not going to relive right now. I wrote a little something down while I was riding, kind of trying to explain the modern human condition, like I said earlier, stuff that came to mind while I was flying above the Earth in the plane, about why we've created all this shit we've created. I think a big part of it is man's urge to become God of his own universe and how he will never be able to control nature, so he builds around him an environment where he is in control, but this takes him away from the natural world and takes him away from his true nature.

It feels really good to be able to think about this kind of stuff again. I don't think I'd had a thought like that for months before Dr. Foster reduced the strength of my medication. It wasn't a destructive thought, but rather a profound one. I've also been writing down jokes, which I hadn't done at all for months and months.

When I made it to San Francisco, I walked to a birthday dinner Chris was at. My friend from high school, Nick Degolia was also there, as well as Nicole Fogarty, who's birthday it was. I was at the end of a table and had a great conversation with a girl that works on Google's self driving car, with Nick, and this other dude from Berkeley who kept insisting Danville was in "the valley". I had never heard anyone call the San Ramon Valley "the valley" before. It was the best conversation I'd had with strangers in a while. This is what I love about San Francisco in comparison to LA, that I've found, people are interesting, people are interested in talking and meeting new people and having new experiences, they are quick to laugh, even if it's just to be polite, they actually look at you like they are interested in what you are saying, and even though they all have iphones, don't bust them out in the middle of your conversation. As we walked down the street there, everyone was smiling, happy, walking with energy, not trying so hard to look cool that they suck the life out of everything they touch. It was really refreshing.

It doesn't help that every time I go to San Francisco it is 70 degrees. I only see the city on the most beautiful days. Chris has a spiral staircase in his place that leads up to the roof and we went up there and took in the view.

It was great night. The next morning we drove his roommates into Danville to take them to Domenico's, a really amazing sandwich shop. One of his roommates had been saying he wanted to open a sandwich place, so we took him there to show him how it's done. They loved Danville, it was pretty hilarious, comparing it to Desperate Housewives and Pleasantville, very apt comparisons that it took them about five minutes to figure out.

I went back to my dad's and we watched some bball and watched An Idiot Abroad, a show where Ricky Gervais sends this regular guy, Karl Pilkington around the world to do things that would typically be on someone's bucket list. Of course, he doesn't want to do any of it.

What a trip. By the end I was thoroughly worn out. I was happy to be back in my bed in Los Angeles and went to sleep pretty early. I am still tired, yeah I said that. Well, I'm doubling back on things again, so I should probably close it up. I just want to also point out how that even though I talked about quite a few subjects in this post I managed to hold it all together in a coherent narrative. Something I wasn't really doing previously. I can feel my writing chops coming back a little bit. Feels good. I feel good. Boss comes back Wednesday. Ugh. Time to work.

Six Months

I had a therapy appointment today and Dr. Foster pointed out that this appointment marks six months since my hospital visit. I also knew it had been six months because it marks six months since I've talked to Kim. Today was a particularly good visit. I expressed some frustration that I was exhibiting so many side effects of the Seroquel XR, which include fatigue, dryness, which has been in my scalp, face, mouth, constipation, and, at least according to what I read, nasal congestion. I've been sleeping too much, not in a depressed way recently, but just like laying down on a bed and closing my eyes feels like the best feeling ever. She suggested I lower my dose of Seroquel to 200mg from 300mg.

She also brought up the possibility of one day being off medication completely for the first time. It made me smile. When I did, she asked why I was smirking, but I told her that it just made me smile because it made me happy to even think about that. The possibility hadn't even occurred to me.

When this whole experience started I had a really big mistrust of doctors. Part of it has to do with when I had knee surgery and they fucked up or something during the surgery and I came out with a huge scar from what was supposed to be an arthroscopic surgery. I think because my first Crohn's doctor never made clear the possible side effects of Prednisone and I blame him partially for my first manic episode. Then there was my stay at the hospital in Salinas during my first manic episode where the nurses messed around with me while I was manic, walking by and making faces and pretending to open the door to let me out of the room only to slam it shut.

Then there was me getting denied health coverage for my pre-existing condition. This bred a whole new kind of mistrust, especially since Crohn's Disease has barely ever hindered me since my diagnosis, it felt like a Scarlet letter thrust upon me or a Star of David to distinguish me from the general population and mark me as tainted. The day I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease should have been a good day. It meant that they would be able to treat my disease so much more specifically, instead I knew I had received a label that would haunt me for years to come.

Finding UCLA really was serendipitous. The main reason I ended up there was because I heard a radio ad from them for stroke victims who also have lower back degeneration and it made me think of my grandpa, who has suffered from both of those ailments, while I was listening to K-Earth 101 on my way back from my attempt to drive to El Salvador. I didn't trust Cedar Sinai because they had diagnosed me with Crohn's Disease and seemed very opportunistic when it came to operating on me, which I was very hesitant about.

When I sat in the emergency room of UCLA with Jace and waited as patiently as I could to be admitted. There were a lot of times I felt like getting up and running away, but I knew I trusted Jace not to lead me the wrong way and he told me not to leave. As we were waiting, people, I assume from emergency that couldn't be admitted into the hospital for financial reasons, were brought into the room next to me, where they would wake up, stand up, take off their scrubs, put on their clothes, and wander out of the hospital.

From the beginning I could feel it was different at UCLA. Everyone was very attentive and kind. We spoke to this really nice security guard who was also an aspiring pastor, he kept telling me that something really good was going to happen to me that day.

Over the past six months it has been hard some times to see what happened that day as a good thing. There have been a lot of times that I have felt like I am going to be stuck, some clinical anomaly, destine to be taking different medications and going in and out of severe mania and depression forever, but now I've finally caught a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel and I was only able to get there by completely giving in and trusting my doctor for the first time. Every other doctor I've been to I've stopped taking my medication before my prescription was up, usually without telling them.

I remember the first time I saw my therapist/psychiatrist Dr. Foster when I was in psych at UCLA and she was standing in on a weekend. I went to talk to her and I told her I had learned that I have to listen to my doctor and that I have to listen to them and do what they say. She was completely unemotional and cold and it seemed, thought I was a complete liar. Maybe not, but that was what I gleaned from it. I didn't realize so much then or before that the doctor winning your trust was only part of it, you also have to win the doctor's trust as well and while I implicitly trusted everyone at UCLA from the beginning, it took time for them to begin to trust me.

I know I'm not perfect, I am still tempted by things that are destructive, we talked today about caffeine and how it probably has side effects we don't even know about yet. Yes, I drink a lot of coffee, fucking A, but what I'm doing now is not nearly as self-destructive as the path that I was on, which was basically do whatever I want to do whenever I want and never ask for help, even when I knew I needed it. I haven't taken my medication every day, but it has been pretty damn close, I think I've missed less than six times, which would be once a month, which is 1 of 30, I think that's pretty good.

When I first started seeing Dr. Foster and she switched my medication to Geodon and I started having panic attacks and we went on the search for another medication I told her I thought I could do with just a sleep aide and a psychiatrist to help me out. She didn't believe me at the time and at the time, she was right. I think the way things have gone have worked out for the best, but it makes me so happy to see that as a goal that is achievable.

This last manic episode was so different than all the rest. Firstly, leading up to the drive to El Salvador I really wanted help, but I didn't know what to do because I didn't have health insurance. I remember the last night before I left searching around the drawers of my aunt and uncle's guest room for some sort of sleep medication. I couldn't find any and the nightmare continued, as I got more and more paranoid throughout the night, thinking I was being watched at every turn. But something felt different this time. I wasn't sporadic, running around naked, driving recklessly, it was all very careful and calm. When I got to Mexico and figured out that my plans of going to El Salvador weren't achievable, I simply turned around and came back, totally prepared to deal with the consequences.

In my previous episodes, I always thought I was going to go meet up with my friends, the first time in big apartments in New York, which I never got to and the second at Mike Garner's parents house in Mountain House, which of course led me to getting beat up. This time, when I came home I was totally surprised when all of my friends were at my house, together. It felt like closure. I had thought El Salvador was my savior but Los Angeles was where my angels were. Damn, pretty corny for me, but my friends really are some of the kindest most gentle people and I really appreciate them.

I have been feeling really good lately, like myself, wanting to be social, even though I'm tired a lot I've still been able to do a good amount of exercising. I've been meeting girls, been having fun and doing a sufficient job at work. My boss is going to be gone a lot over the coming months, it will give me time to work on a project of my own and I am excited about that.

Anyway, some of this is well worn territory, but since six months is kind of a milestone, I thought it was high time to revisit it.

I'm sure I have some challenges and road blocks ahead, but today is one day to not think about that and just be proud of myself for where I've made it in the last half a year. That being said I'm going to go to bed. Maybe if I go to sleep early enough I will actually get up on time to eat some breakfast. Probably not though. One day at a time.

Oh and more good news: I paid off my car today. My piece of shit Ford Focus is now 100% mine. Pink slip and all. Well, I have to go pick up the pink slip, but close enough. Time to drive that baby into the ground. Next up: new computer with Final Cut.

Ok, goodnight.

What Am I Feeling?

When I first started writing this blog it was very easy for me. Emotion was flowing out of me, relatively and the words and thoughts seemed to be pouring out. Now, not so much, though I guess I am still feeling a lot of things, I don't feel like I have as much to write about.

Charlie's visit totally brought me back to what things were like when he was here last, which was almost half a decade ago. He is exactly the same and having him here completely reminded me why I like all of my friends so much, not that I had forgot. I've had plenty of opportunities to be appreciative of my friends, especially after my manic episode, but this was more of a time to really enjoy each other. Things are always crazy when he is here, by crazy I mean a lot more drinking and a lot less sleeping than usual, but I haven't felt happier since last time he was here.

Last time he was here culminated in the golden summer of 2007, he actually visited once after that in 2008, I believe. Summer of 2007 was a dream. I spent almost every day with my friends at the beach. It was a once in a lifetime experience.

This week marks six months since my manic episode. I was slow coming out of it this time, in comparison to the others, where I was out for a day, then woke up and felt relatively back to myself. This one was much more slow burning. It never was as intense and out of control as my last episodes, it also lasted for a much longer period of time.

A friend of mine recently admitted herself to a hospital for depression and quit her job as soon as she got out. Reminded me a lot of myself. Right now she is going through the hardest part, where you realize these decisions you thought were good at the time have consequences.

I saw Charlie off to the airport, we had a last meal together over in Larchmont Village. I cried a little bit when he left. When he is here, we are all so focused on the group and having fun together. He really is such a fascinating person, the only person I know who makes a living off of doing improv comedy, there are not many in the world.

So, now I am still coming down from that amazing time we all had together. I don't really know how to feel or what I am feeling, I guess right now I am feeling a sort of numbness. I got a really good sleep last night and felt very awake and on top of things today. I was on the ball at work and came home and exercised.

I'd kind of like to see Natasha again, girl I met in Las Vegas. It's not the end of the world if it doesn't happen, her personality still annoys me a bit, like it did in college, but I have no doubt she is a sweet and kind person.

On Sunday night, Charlie's last night here, Stefan rolled a joint for everyone to smoke. Gilli told me I shouldn't smoke it and after some pouting I listened to her. I know she is right, but in this specific situation I was really tempted. I knew it was the only time that Charlie and Stefan and Kevin and her would all be able to share that experience. She told me if I didn't smoke she would give up drinking martinis because it was the "same thing".

I don't think she realizes that it isn't the same thing at all, it would be like her giving up drinking all together. Part of me feels like once every couple months isn't that bad, considering I used to smoke almost every day, if not multiple times a day and had no meds or psychiatrist to help with my condition. But certainly, I understand why some people in my life would prefer it not happen at all. She also told me she would only smoke with me once I got the "okay" from somebody, as if a doctor would ever tell me that. I am honest with my psychiatrist about the times that I've smoked, but I would hardly say she was okay with it.

I think there is more to be said about pot and how it related to my mental instability. I know there is no way to really know. I was smoking less and less as the experience got more intense because it made me feel more paranoid that I already did. When I drove to Mexico, I hadn't smoked in a few days or a week or so, can't really remember. The doctors at the hospital were very surprised when I passed my drug test, as was I. Is it possible that smoking for so long and then quitting contributed to what happened? Maybe.

Why am I still allowed to drink alcohol? I was drinking alcohol each time I had a manic episode as well. I know this probably means that I really shouldn't be drinking at all either. Yet no one has ever brought this up or told me I need to stop drinking.

A lot of my friends do hard drugs, mostly cocaine, ecstasy, and psychedelics, yet no one ever tells them to cool it or to stop. I guess part of it is none of them have ever let their drug use affect any of their friend's lives. When Charlie was here, one thing he said about Vegas was that everyone did what they wanted and there was no pressure to do anything and there was no pressure to not do anything. That is the attitude that I miss.

I understand why things aren't that way any more. I have lost my privilege of doing whatever I want because of the choices I've made. What happened to me really scared a lot of people and I feel bad for putting people through that. More than anything I want to make sure that I don't put anyone through that again.

Lately creative writing has been difficult for me. In fact, I really haven't done any creative writing since I got out of the hospital. I wrote thirty or so pages of memoirs, but I must admit, I was disappointed by what I wrote. Nothing in comparison to the work I was turning out before. As I've said before, it slowed down around May or June of last year, I guess when Kate and I broke up. I haven't done much since. I want to, but all I have are these very vague ideas floating around in my head. I am waiting for the to coalesce, but nothing has yet. Well, that isn't exactly true. I have one idea that is pretty specific and I think would make a good idea for a screenplay, but what I really want to do is write something that I could feasibly shoot and that just hasn't happened yet for me.

I also feel like I should be doing standup, but it is quite the same thing. I haven't really been able to think in jokes. I've written some stuff I could see doing in a set, but nothing that I would consider jokes. I listen to Marc Maron all the time and he says he just goes up and basically tells stories and makes his stuff up on the spot, I wonder if this is the way for me to do it, to sort of fall in to the comedy. It works for me when I'm doing improv and I still totally feel like I can do improv. Creating on the spot has never been a problem for me. When I have an assignment, I always do well, like this blog, this started out as an assignment. I think what I need to do is take some screenwriting class or something. I just wish I had the drive, ambition, mainly discipline. I literally couldn't even think of that word. I had to type in "what you learn in the army" in google to figure it out. What the fuck? Yeah. Discipline. I don't have any of it. I have no routine. My morning is me waking up as late as possible, rushing out the door and getting to work, where I just let things affect me all day. The thing closest to a routine is me making coffee.

I have been exercising a bit the last few weeks. I really need to do more to head off this weight gain. I was able to go to the gym down at the club my aunt and uncle belong to and do the elliptical. I liked this a lot better than running because my shins start to hurt after I run anything close to a mile. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to sneak in there, since it supposed to be only for immediate family.

I need to make some plans for this weekend, actually maybe not. I have two shows this weekend. One on Friday with Sticky Nights at a new show at the "Little Modern Theater", which I think is a new theater, because I've never heard of it before and then one with my new team, Hey, Shawty on Saturday night, so at least I will be with people early in the night and maybe we can do something after.

Tomorrow night is Thursday and I will have Mach improv, meaning I won't get to sleep until late, so I should probably get to bed. I'm going to go by the mailbox in the morning and see if I have my health insurance card yet. They have really been slacking. My coverage started in November and still no card. Come on PCIP! Get it together.

Well. This thing has kind of been all over the place. Kind of how I am feeling right now. Three improv shows in the next three days. I need to just chill and enjoy those shows and enjoy hanging out with people after each. All I want to do is not have to work at my job and get to do comedy all day. It is such a hard thing to accomplish and a big part of it is getting my writing mojo back. I know I could write with people, but I need to have a lot of ideas to bring to the table. It is rare right now that I think of an idea during the day. Maybe if I start thinking more about it, they will start to come. Maybe not. Maybe I just need to start writing one of my vague ideas and it will get more specific. Just feels weird for me. I used to get ideas that felt so extremely specific and fleshed out, even if they weren't.

Perception is an extremely important thing. How you perceive the world totally affects how the world interacts with you. When you feel like you own the world, it is that much easier to own it, when you feel like you can't do anything, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The times I've felt super in control are the times when I am in the early throes of a manic episode. I'm sure there are some people out there that feel that way on a regular basis, you know, the kind of people that only need a couple hours of sleep at night and seem to have everything so together and have such self-discipline at going after what they want.

I love to sleep. I love to eat. I love to sit around and watch the NBA on TV. I love to go on the computer and fuck around for hours. I let shit pile up in my room. I let my car get dirty on the inside and out. I let the papers in my office build up. Sometimes I don't shower. Sometimes I don't brush my teeth (always brush at least once a day though, not a total slob). I love doing those things. Those things make life worth living, well some of them. Some of them are just part of who I am and I like who I am. If I really had discipline, would I be more miserable with my shitty routine and life that was almost the same? Or would I be super successful and happy because I would be more accomplished? I don't know. I can't be too hard on myself. I work ten hour days. I work hard almost every day. My life is good and I have been happy recently. Really truly happy. Now that I have that, I want to take things to the next level, not to the next level of happiness, but to set myself up so I can truly feel accomplished. I have high expectations for myself, based on what I thought I was going to do with my life, what others thought I would do with my life, and what my friends are doing with their lives. I'm not quite where I want to be and the steps for how to get there aren't exactly clear. There are a lot of different routes, right now I feel like I am stretching, reaching, flailing around trying to grasp whatever is out there. What I should do is trust myself and trust what has worked for me in the past. Some people get by on discipline and focus. I have always sat back and assumed that the answers would come to me. I haven't done that lately. I need to sit back and be ready to attack when the time is right.

That's what I'm going to do. So I guess I do have a lot to write about after all.

Vegas Baby, Vegas

So on Friday I went to Las Vegas. It was one of the best weekends of my entire life. Well, I guess every weekend used to be pretty similar in Santa Barbara, but now I appreciate being able to spend a weekend with my friends a lot more than I did then.

It started with kind of a crazy night on Thurs. I was planning on getting some good sleep Thurs night in preparation, but it didn't turn out that way. I was supposed to go over to Josh's, my old boss, and accidentally locked myself out of the office when I was rushing out. There was no way for me to get back in, so I asked Stefan for a ride. I was going to Kristin's birthday party out in Silverlake. Stefan has been working at Docstoc, where I used to work, in Santa Monica, so I figured he could give me a ride out to the other side of town and give me a ride back the next morning.

I walked all the way from my office to 4th and Santa Monica, because Stefan was still working and I had nothing better to do. We went out to Kristin's birthday party at Harvard and Stone and it was pretty fun. I got to hang out with Charlie, who I hadn't need in four or five years. Things picked up right where they left off. I also saw Sean, who is busy with paperwork with his finace Laura. He suggested we make pickup things with "Bros", which I was happy to hear. I'd love to do something more with "Bros".

So, then Charlie, Stefan, and I went back to Stefan and Gilli's. Stefan was sleeping on the couch and I was asleep on a mattress on the floor. In the middle of the night someone. I won't say who, stumbled out of their room, fell over on my mattress and puked all over my sleepingbag and mattress. Luckily I got up before it landed on me. We had to take the mattress outside and I went into Stefan's room, by now it was after three and I had to get up at 8:30. Then Stefan was snoring. I fell asleep for maybe two solid hours that night.

The next morning I got back into my office, I called the manager and had them open the doors. I grabbed my keys and went back to my aunt and uncles and packed everything for Vegas. Then I went to work. I was pretty off my game, but luckily it wasn't a busy day. My boss left early. I hung out in the office, super excited, waiting for Kevin. He came and picked me up around 7:30 with his girlfriend Nadia. We rolled over to Silverlake where Josh picked us up and we were on our way.

Once we got onto the 15 and were out in the boonies, Kevin lit up a spliff and we all smoked. This was the first time I'd smoked since I was with my brother in Danville. It was really fun. After, we somehow ended up at In'N'Out burger, even though we had all just eaten. We were all laughing and making jokes about how it was "guy's weekend" and Nadia made the joke that she was a guy for the weekend.

From miles and miles away, we could see the lights shining from Vegas. When we got there, the excitement was palpable. We all cracked open beers and got to drinking while we waited for Jace, Stefan, and Kristin to arrive in the last car. They got there and we popped champagne, amazed that we actually planned a trip and all showed up. This is the first time we've ever really planned a trip and executed it, except when Jace and Kristin and I went camping, but this was a lot more people.

It was me, Kevin, Nadia, Josh, Kristin, Stefan, Jace, Charlie, Gilli, and Natasha, all together in one hotel room. We grabbed beers for the road and hit the casino. I won a quick $20 on roulette and we moved on, hitting up the aria, then taking the tram from there to the Bellagio, then we walked to the crappier casinos and on the way got some giant slushy drinks. We hit another roulette table and some people went home.

I shouldn't really say where everyone went and what everyone did. You know, what happens in Vegas.

Next morning, when I woke up Jace and Charlie were just getting back. They both had stupid tourist hats on, Jace's said, "What Happens in Vegas Stays on Facebook". He also bought a laser pointer. Classic.

I went to the MGM buffet with Kevin and Nadia and ate four plates of food and had five glasses of champagne. Then they closed the buffet. Needless to say I was pretty disappointed. Sure, I was too full to eat more, but that being said, I wasn't done eating or drinking champagne yet! The three of us went to Walgreen's to stock up on alcohol for the night.

We got back and hung in the hotel for a bit and the Charlie and Jace and I went out to gamble for a bit. We played roulette. I had been saying the whole weekend I was only going to play black. I was betting frugally and was sitting out a lot of spins. Black hit four times in a row. I decided to bet red. Big mistake. Black hit 22 of 25 times. Jace won a couple hundred dollars just playing black. Charlie hit 17 three times in 10 spins and ended up up over $700. I lost $100, but had won $40 or so the night before, so I left Vegas down $60. We went to Coyote Ugly in the New York New York and got drinks.

Then, we went back to the hotel room. There, we played 21, a drinking game that all of us made special rules for in college. Each round you start by saying Bula Maleya, come and drink with me, in Fijian. Then you count to 21, once you reach that number you make a rule for one of the numbers, so instead of 10, you do this or that. The best part about the game is the cup of knives, usually a blender, where people pour their drinks when the game gets exciting, making a gross concoction. When someone messes up bad, people chant "LVP" as in least valuable player, when it is determined someone is LVP, they have to drink the cup of knives.

We went out to the club in the MGM called Tabu, it was alright. I danced for a bit and Natasha got me some drinks, which she got for free because she was a girl. Then we left Tabu. After that, stuff happened.

The next day on the ride home, no one talked the entire way. I wanted to stay up with Josh, but I couldn't because we weren't talking and the radio wasn't on. There was quite a juxtaposition between the ride there and the ride home.

All in all I slept 14 hours in 3 days. I slept the whole car ride home. I went to bed at 8 that night. I am still pretty tired, but it was all worth it. It was so fun to be with my friends all weekend long. It was a great reminder of why I moved down to LA. 6 of the 9 people that were there are people that know about this blog, and I only have told my closest friends about this blog, so I was in Vegas with a lot of my closest friends. Cherished every minute.

Now I am back. I went to the doctor on Monday and was in a much better mood than the last time I was there. She said I had gained another pound, which was strange because I thought I'd lost weight. Probably some muscle. Next time I think I will have lost weight. I've been eating healthier and working out most days. She suggested I try muscle confusion by switching things up in my workout. Instead of jogging yesterday I did sprints and walked, it really wore me out. I also climbed the stairs by twos instead of ones. My aunt said today she thought I could use the gym down at the club. I think I will.

Work this week has been pretty easy. Hasn't been a ton to do around the office. Just lots of paperwork and travel planning.

Anyway, I am feeling really good and even though I've been tired this week, I am feeling happier in general than I had been recently. I hope I can keep the good times rollin.

UCSB Memes

UCSB Memes is totally reminding me why I liked the internet in the first place, there are a lot of really funny ones. Here are the one's I've made so far...

This is referring to a place called Old Town Tavern where people used to go do karaoke on Wednesday night and the Mercury Lounge, a dark dive where people drink Pasbt or Stella.

67 block was the furthest block away from campus, except 68, don't even talk about 68.

Once a whale washed up on shore and people tried to steal it's teeth.

Always thought it was funny that a lot of comm majors were ditzy blondes that didn't communicate that well.

Here are some funny ones other people made:

This one is referring to the song "How you party is how we pre-party cuz you ain't from IV."

SBCC is the city college a lot of people that live in IV go to, a lot of them are douches.

And a few more, just for good measure.

I totally took that.

Flotopia is where everyone takes rafts and floats out in the ocean and drinks. It is spontaneous and is planned only like a week or so before it happens.

On Sundays the clock tower at UCSB rings all day long because a music class uses it.

Greenberg

I'm watching Greenberg right now and seeing some parallels to my life.

#1. Lots of the locations are places I go or have been, the vet they go to is where I used to take Jimmy and Isobelle when I worked for Josh. He goes to see this girl sing at Silverlake Lounge, a bar by my old house.

#2. One of the main characters is a personal assistant.

#3. Greenberg has some mental issues. He used to be a musician but now just wants to do absolutely nothing or is trying to do nothing.

Greenberg isn't a very likable person. He is really self-absorbed and is kind of a schemer. I don't think he ever really does anything to be nice or to benefit others, he does stuff only for himself. He is outright mean to people, sometimes hiding his true feelings behind a cold demeanor.

I heard a lot of comparisons of Young Adult to Greenberg and I see the similarities. Both have extremely flawed and unlikeable protagonists. As the movie isn't over, I can't really say if Greenberg changes or not by the end.

This is true of Greenberg and Kristin Wig in Bridesmaids too, they have characters that make the mistake of pushing people away. Is this a normal thing that people too in general? I don't feel like I even have the opportunity to push someone away that wants to love me, but I certainly don't think I would, if I felt like they were the right person, which both of them seem to. That is one thing I can say I haven't done, push away the people I love.

Lately, I've been feeling inspired a lot by everything I have been watching and I think that is a good thing. Now I only wish I could be inspired a little more by real life and that is when everything will really start coming together and maybe I can finally start writing something. Right now I feel kind of like Greenberg, a musician who doesn't make music.

This weekend I am going to Vegas and am going to be spending a lot of time with my friends. Just the prospect of it makes me happy and excited, to know I am going to be around people and having fun all weekend long. I am going to try to be (relatively) good while I am there so I can look back on the weekend fondly rather than something to regret.

50 Posts

I am hitting my 50th post tonight. My first one was Nov 9th, so I am averaging one post every other day, not bad. Certainly not as frequent as when I started, but I couldn't keep that pace up forever. So, it's Friday night, almost 10pm and I'm writing a blog post. Not super cool of me, but whatever. I wish I had something more going on, was going to go to a comedy show and decided to skip it in favor of going out with Kevin, but now I haven't heard from him and the night is flying by.

I'm not sure how much I've accomplished in these last fifty posts. I have a job now. I'm going to be out of my aunt and uncle's relatively soon. I am certainly doing much better than when I started writing, in a sense. I am feeling much more stable. I am also feeling an increasing loneliness that is really hard to shake. I know a big part of it is living at my aunt and uncle's house, but I also know that it will never be like it was when I had my house.

I know I've said some of this shit before.

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It's been almost six months since I've talked with Kim. I am definitely feeling good about where I am at in relation to her. I am feeling very over her at the moment. What is hard for me is to reconcile my feelings, because I felt so comfortable and whole when I was pursuing her. It gave me purpose. Now I need a new purpose. I want that purpose to be to write something great, but the ideas aren't flowing to me like they did toward the end of college. Then I could write and write and write. Now I can write and write and write, but not as creatively as I could then. Hopefully it will just come back to me soon.

I think I would really enjoy writing some sketches with people. I used to really enjoy doing that. Again, I don't know what happened. When I hang out with people now, it is rare that someone says, "That'd be a good sketch idea." I don't know why it is. It used to happen all the time. Like writing on my own, I think it will come back, in time.

I've really been enjoying improv recently. I've felt more confident and like I've had more purpose.

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My aunt and uncle just got home from their dinner. Maybe I'll just stay in tonight. Tomorrow I am going to Manhattan Beach and the next day going to a Superbowl party, so it's not like I'm going to be bored the next couple days. I've been pretty tired during the day and this could be a good chance to get a good rest. Maybe I'll watch Bridesmaids. I have a screener that Josh (my old boss, not Keeler) gave to me.

I don't know! I want to be back in the middle of things. Right now I feel so far out on the periphery.

Anyway, this is all pretty selfish and self-centered. I want to have more to say about other people, but I work alone all day and then have no one to hang out with, ugh, more self-loathing.

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My cousin is upstairs, he was on his iphone like all night. I would not get a kid in middle school an iphone. I can't stand when people totally disregard you in conversation to look at their phone or when you go to a party and all it is is a bunch of people standing around looking at their phones. An iphone is like a base level of entertainment. It is like the same reason people stop and eat fastfood on road trips, it is always the same and you always can be sure of what you're going to get. If you are at a place that is below the iphone standard of entertainment, you can always rely on it to pick you back up. What these people forget is if they got off their fucking phone and contributed something to the world rather than assuming they must always be entertained by it, the party they were at would probably suddenly get a lot more fun, or maybe not because for the most part those people have no personalities.

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My grandpa is coming back to stay here again soon. He had an infection in his knee or something and had to go to the hospital for a while. We were all worried for a couple of days, my uncle went up to visit him, but I guess he is ok. They way he will never live alone again. He will probably be here for a long time. I think it is best that I move out soon. That way I can come and visit him and he will be happy. He doesn't like it when the people living here don't tell him where they are going and what they are doing and I just can't do that all the time.

A guy that works with my boss is leaving his apartment is Santa Monica for a couple of months, it is a one bedroom and is rent controlled for $750 a month. Sound like a deal to me. It could be a good transition from here to my new living situation, where ever that ends up being. I've seen some cool little bungalows in Silverlake recently and that is what I'm shooting for.

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I've been thinking about immigration the last day or so since I had a conversation about it with Kristin. She asked me what my opinion was on it and I told her I didn't think I had a right to be here more than anyone else. She seemed to be of the opinion that illegals were taking from the middle class. Maybe, but even if it is true, just by the virtue that they are middle class, their life is so much better than that of an illegal immigrant. Not that it is richer, necessarily, but they have rights and a vote and health insurance and car insurance and don't have to hide who they are. Immigrants here illegally struggle greatly to get here. I don't blame them.

During my manic episode, I tried to drive to Mexicali from Tijuana, and it fucking sucks down there. Seriously. No one should have to live there. It is a terrible desert wasteland. If that is your home and you like it, fine. But seriously, go do that drive and tell me anyone should not be allowed to hop over that fence and come to where things are a million times nicer. Well, you probably will never do that drive because there are a bunch of drug cartels down there and it's scary as fuck to drive over there and that is exactly my point.

If we legalized everybody, we'd have more people paying taxes (even though I guess most of them would probably get a rebate), you'd have more people in the health care system and less getting basically free emergency room treatment. Why not? Well, mostly because Republicans know if too many minorities get into the country their party is doomed.

Why I think Obama has got the election locked up? Well, aside from Romney's utter lack of personality and the fact that he is a millionaire paying barely any taxes in a time when people think the rich should be paying more taxes and that establishment politicians should be run out of Washington on train tracks? 4 more years of legal immigrants to this country who can vote. 4 more years of young voters. You can't tell me either of those demographics are going to go for a republican. So that being said, Repbulican's need to find a way to find new voters. Romney isn't going to inspire tea party candidates to get out, that's for sure.

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I've been exercising the last couple days. Like I said, I had gained 10 pounds since I started working. That's some major LBS. I'm feeling pretty good except I get terrible shin splints in my left shin. I stretch it really well before I go but it always ends up getting really enflamed. I wonder how far I'd be able to run if that wasn't the case. Tomorrow it will be a beach run, then I can go quite a bit further.

Getting out to Manhattan Beach will be fun, it always is and it is so unseasonably warm that we will probably be able to go to the beach tomorrow. Might as well party if the world is going up in flames. This time next week I'll be driving to Vegas. I seriously can't wait. So many pals going to be there. It is truly something to be excited about. I'm really bummed Jace wont be able to go, since a big part of the inspiration for the trip was our first go around a few years ago when him and Charlie and I went. Those were the best times ever.

Well, I think this is worthy of a fiftieth post. Still no word from Kevin, fucker. Looks like I am going to stay in after all, get to bed early, get some good breakfast, read the paper like old times, like before I had this God damn job. Job actually isn't so bad though, Stan really is a pretty good guy. I feel bad about writing all that stuff about him before, but he did intimidate the shit out of me for a while there.

Anyway, yeah, signing out.