Tuesday, March 27, 2012
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.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
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!
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!
Monday, March 5, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, February 27, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
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.
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.
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