Friday, April 30, 2010

She Ain't Soggy, She's My Friend...

I had an interesting thought today, while I was folding a mountain of clothes at work. It was more of a self actualization, I suppose. Honestly, do we ever really change? Sure, maybe we become more responsible, or less as the case may be, but are we essentially the same person we were when we were little? Maybe we are, but only just a bit more jaded...

I would call myself a supportive friend. I honestly love to hear about the successes and triumphs happening in the lives of people I care about. But, I'm also the friend that will show up and stand by them. Case in point: when I was in the first grade I was friends with a girl who lived around the corner, down the road, and past the curve in my neighborhood. Her name was Joanna and she was my honest to God first friend ever (she also writes a fabulous blog that I suggest everyone checkout, "Driving Miss Dallas"). Now, I remember a certain day in first grade when Ms. Stevens told us we couldn't use the rest room unless it was an emergency. First of all, that really should be explained in great detail to a group of 6 and 7 year olds... Long story short Joanna asked if she could go and she ran out of the portable building where we had class and into the main building. Five minutes later, Joanna storms back in in her mini denim skirt and proclaims, "I didn't make it," to the entire class. She was sent to the nurses office to call home for a change of clothes.

Now, I sat next to this girl named Jennie who I am convinced was out to get me. Jennie once gave me the chicken pox. She also took it upon herself to make fun of my first friend ever that day. Well, being the good supportive friend that I am, I looked at her right in the face and I peed my pants in solidarity right there in the middle of class. Sure, maybe it wasn't the best choice but it was the most visual point I could think to make. Besides, if soggy drawers were good enough for Joanna, then they were good enough for me.

The point is, even at 6 and 7 I was innately a loyal and faithful friend who wasn't afraid to make a fool of himself if it meant standing up for someone who was important to me. I like to think that I still have that quality about me today.

So, all in all, I say there is an innate part of us that just is one thing or another, and will always be a core part of all the things that make who we are. It's the je ne sais quoi of our innate individual self. And you should all count yourself lucky that my innate thing wasn't lighting things on fire.... just saying.

*On a side note, Ms. Stevens liked to throw chalk when she was frustrated. I'm pretty sure that on that day she gave up the chalk throwing and went straight to flipping desks. Is it odd that emergency ended up on our next spelling test?

Sorry it took me so long to update, but my life has settled down and I'm back. Thanks for being patient with me.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Here's The Thing....

Dear Reality Television,

I will start off by telling you that this is a very difficult letter for me to write. We've been together for a large portion of my life. There have been good times, bad times, and everything in between but I feel like we are at a cross roads in our relationship. You and I have changed and now stand for different things. In fact, most the time I find it difficult to respect you. You used to be new and exciting, but somewhere along the way you turned cheap... like crack cheap. You are the crack of prime time television and you have held power over my life for far too long. No one really wants you in their life, but damn it, if you haven't latched on to us with a death grip. I'm sorry, but it's time I cut you out for good.

Some of the issues I have with you that are leading me to the ending of our relationship, are that you are taking quality scripted television off the air. You have branched off into every network, making every channel toxic and unsafe for me. You act as a cancer, swallowing the careers of talented entertainment industry professionals and making the host network a vile distributor of crap. You have made worthless people into house hold names. I can't believe you would promote people like Heidi Montag, Spencer Pratt, and Tyra Banks... You know how I feel about them. And you continuously throw them in my face. The sheer disrespect you have for me is sickening.

Another issue I take with you is you promote negative thinking among the populous. You feed on people writing awful things like, "he looks like a rape baby...", "she is such a prosti-tot...", and "she is, in fact, satan's whore..." on blogs, vlogs, and message boards. You allow people to criticize actual people to nth degree. You relish that we go for blood and comment on peoples looks, talents, and say things about peoples mother whom, by the way, we have never met. Yes, I know people put themselves on there by choice. I know you don't force anyone to do anything and they should act more appropriately on national television. But you also don't have any decorum either. You blur the lines of reality so much, so that I find people don't understand that it is not ok to call someone a, "hershey squirt licking slut bag." People may have thought this before, but you make it so people will say it to someones face. Not Ok!!! You have single handedly made our society stupider, and you promote physical violence!! Wow. You shame me.

You disregard peoples humanity. You turn them into a corporate product and you ask the rest of us to boo and hiss at your created villains in this modern day melodrama. You make us forget that the people on your show are ACTUAL people, and not characters. It's not ok the way you treat people, and it's worse that you ask us to treat people like that in our daily lives. You have surrounded us in a shroud of negativity and you feed off of our souls. You try, daily, to destroy peoples compassion for one another. Sadly, you are winning this war.

Look, Reality TV, I know I have been bashing you most this letter. We did have some great times together. Remember the real world before everyone was a slut? Those were fun times. Remember American Idol season 1, cycles 1-3 of Americas Next Top Model, as well as seasons 1-4 of Project Runway? They were genius! But lately, you've promoted things like Teen Cribs, The Bad Girls Club, Big Brother, all of the Real Housewives shows, and everything on VH1. What happened to you? You turned on me. You once held such promise as a new inventive form of competition and television but now, sadly, you just promote violent sluts. Way to go. I hope you're proud.

I think I've said enough on this, Reality TV. I just want you to know that I can't respect you or support you any longer. You have ruined the entertainment industry and our society. I don't want you to contact me, and I am fully prepared to put a restraining order on you. If I haven't been clear enough, I'll end with this... FUCK OFF and get the hell off my TV!!



Can you also take infomercials with you? Thanks.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Watch Your Back, Suckah....

Revenge... I am positive that this is something we have all contemplated at one point or another. I mean who hasn't gotten pissed off at something someone has done to them and then crossed over to their dark and twisted place and thought about ways to make them feel as shitty as they have made you feel. The only question I have is, is it an ethical form of therapy or is it morally unjust? And if you do it, what constitutes crossing the line? How far can you really go? Ok.. So I have three questions about it.

I have been broken up with, and I have done my fair share of the breaking up. But there is something so gut wrenching about finding out that someone no longer wishes to spend time with you in a romantic setting. When ever this has happened to me I literally have to stop myself from finding his home address and mailing him a box of rotten meat. Note to anyone I date in the future, I have yet to do this. Yet.... I have also had visions of showing up to his place of residence and slapping him in the face with rotten meat while screaming, "DOUCHE LORD!" at him. Again, I could never do this... rotten meat is pretty disgusting and I'm mostly positive that I don't want to touch it.

I have a friend, S, who had a brilliant and hilarious form of revenge she dished out to a former flame. He had broken her heart, so she pranked him with pubes. She mailed them to him, glued them to his front door, and car. She put them anywhere and everywhere she could put them, unbeknownst to him. And they weren't just her "material." She used her friends, both male and female, as well as one of her friend's mom. Too far or hysterical?

I'm pretty sure most everyone has also had the experience of having a friend blast them publicly behind their back. It hurts even more when it is someone who was close to you and maybe knows some of your darker secrets. This, too, is an experience I wish was not so close to me. When this happened to me I had the thought of taking their picture and putting it on craigslist with a caption that read, "I am into being anal fisted, golden showers, and anonymous group sex. Please be clinically obese and unshowered. Scat play is available, for the right person... or anyone who is willing to take a dump on my face. I could also be into animals. Please send pictures of you and your dog to my cell phone at ***-***-**** or my email at ***@***.***. Bonus if you can show up at my house in clown makeup. And please only dirty talk, the filthier the better." But I'm pretty sure there is something illegal about this. I have never, nor will ever, do this.... no matter how much I may want to at the time.

Another story of not so friendly revenge. My friend, A, had found out that all of his dark secretes from his sordid past had become public knowledge. He had only shared this information with a select few people. As time went on, he had finally eliminated everyone except the one who did it. Instead of directly approaching said friend and calling him out, he took what may not have been the highest of roads. He knew when said friends house was empty and he knew where the spare key to the front door was kept. He would let himself in, go to the bathroom and take the biggest dump his body could muster. He would then leave the house without flushing. Gross? Umm.. yeah. Hysterically brilliant? Totally! The best was when said friend would talk about it with us. He would say things like, "I thought at first maybe I just forgot to flush, but you guys, it's been a week and a half! I know I flushed before I left the house. I'm freaked out, yall! Someone is stalking me and they're letting me know it by shitting in my toilet!!" This is psychological war fare at it's best. I'm not sure said friend ever found out who it was or why... Eh, bygones.

Now, I have never personally sought revenge to these extremes... or ever sought it, really. I was, fortunately for all of you out there, raised with a continence and could absolutely never do anything as drastic as these forms of revenge. No, I have always taken the high road and held strong in my belief in karma and that they would, in the end, get their just desserts. By acting out and getting revenge, you may feel justified in it and great for a short while. Then it sinks in, you are no better than them. In fact, you retaliated in a mean, dark, twisted way and that means bad karma for you. No, sadly, revenge is not morally or ethically acceptable. Any sort of it crosses a line, be it socially, spiritually, or personally. Now, as to how far is too far, that's between you and whatever higher power you believe in. This isn't to say it isn't fun, or even healing on some level, to think about. We are all flawed people, and I don't need you to show me how bad my decision making skills are by violently acting it out for me and making my life difficult for a short time. Besides, if you feel so inclined to do this to me, I might feel inclined to get over my fear of touch rotten meat and I am positive you don't want me slapping you in the face with that. It's just something to think about....

Saturday, January 16, 2010

They Say That Breaking Up Is Hard To Do... Or Is It??

Everyone has been involved with someone, in some form or fashion, and have it just not work out. Whether it be a friendship or lover, I like to refer to these as, "relationshits." Now, the ending of these are normally dramatic for most people, but for some reason mine always end rather... oddly. In fact, I am a master at making/ending "relationshits" unintentionally. What can I say, I was born gifted.

I was once dating a guy whom shall be called R. R was a really nice guy. He was cute, he had a job, he treated me well, he had a job, he was funny, and, oh yeah, he had a job. I met him in NYC after I had graduated college and was there visiting/auditioning. I was there for 17 days in order to find out if I was cut out for this place. I completely fell in love with NYC. How could I not?? I was staying in a studio in Herald Square with one of my really good friends, April, and I quickly decided on this trip that I WOULD live here one day. Now, April's cousin lived in Jersey. She came over to see April and asked me if I was seeing anyone. I told her no. So she set me up with one of her friends. Enter R. We got along great, he laughed at my jokes and, since I think I'm hysterical, that gave him plenty of bonus points in my book. We hung out everyday I was in NYC from that point on. Everything sounds wonderful, right? When does this all start turning fu-fricken-ugly?

It all started when I went back home to Houston after the trip and he came to visit. I picked him up from the airport and it was wonderful to see him again. This was a torrid love affair, I thought, and it was exciting! He thought I was his boyfriend. The reason I know this is because he said, "I missed my boyfriend!!" as soon as he got into the car. These were the kind of misunderstandings that started the turn in making this a "relationshit."

I asked him if he was hungry and he said yes, so we went to this overpriced not so great 24 hour place called Katz's. Now, I have a twisted sense of humor. I love really dark comedy and get a kick out of hearing a great scat joke. I have yet to find a joke on a subject matter that I didn't find funny. Sure, I can recognize things as socially unacceptable but, in my opinion, people need to knock it down a few pegs and not be so touchy. R didn't so much share my sense of humor. He got my sense of humor, but he didn't fully enjoy it as much as I thought he did. During our late night dinner of over priced potato pancakes, he spilled his water on the table and completely drenched everything. I took this as an opportunity to give him hell. Hey, if you're going to date me you have to be able to do a few things, and one of them is take the shit I give. I will mess with you until I am completely dry of jokes. I totally expected some humorous bantering back and forth. That didn't happen. I may have tried to start the bantering off with, that he was the reason God invented testicular cancer. He, and he alone, was the reason men had to lose a ball.

Now, is this an awful joke? Totally. Was it hysterical? That's a hell yes in my book. You see, very little offends me. It's all in the way you say it. You can call me every name in the book but if you say in the spirit of comedy, I can totally see the joke. R, it turns out, is not such a guy and was utterly offended, and quickly told me that that it wasn't funny. I told him it was and to think about it. How idiotic would it be for God to say, "Hey man, you can't keep your water in your glass? What, you don't like the things I provide for you? Fine, I'm taking your ball, suckah." At this point R just looked at me with his mouth agape. I brushed it off, whatever he didn't get the joke. It was probably because my sense of humor was way to advanced for him to fully comprehend. I paid the bill and we left. Later on that night I found out that when he was 14 he had testicular cancer.

I mean, COME ON! That is something he should have told me immediately after I made the joke. There was no recovering from this. He was angry about my joke, which I totally get! I totally understand that my joke was in poor taste, to him. But that was a moment when he should have said something along the lines of, "Yeah, dude, I don't think it's funny because I have one ball. Sooo.... yeah." I mean, Jesus.... He should have told me what he had been through after I made the joke. I'm not taking the blame for this one ending... Eh, it was doomed from the start. Bygones. Long story short, R has moved on to a happy ever after and I'm happy for him.

This is just one of many things I have said or done that may have been why things didn't work out with someone. I have a dark, awkward sense of humor, and I'm ok with that. I guess the moral of this story is testicular cancer isn't funny yet, and survivors will break up with you if you try and joke about it.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

And so it begins...

I will start this off by saying, THANK GOD that 2009 is over and done with. What a punch in the balls that was. May 2010 be prosperous, full of joy, and me not jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. Oh yeah, and maybe a job/career.

Currently, I am a 26 year old actor living in the UWS of NYC. After having been a professional actor for my whole working adult life, it is becoming quite clear to me that I don't think I want to continue down this path. Do I love it? Sure. Do I love it enough to stay? Eh... I feel like I'm in an abusive relationship. I would call the business that is show the Ike to my Tina. It's a really grueling life, and to live it you honestly do HAVE to love it. I do love it... I just love things more. Call me superficial, a quitter, a sell out, I don't really care. I want things, and not just things, I want nice things. I want to own my own apartment in this city one day. I want to fill it with nice furniture that didn't come from IKEA. I want to not have a panic attack when I spend 40 bucks on a weeks worth groceries, knowing full well that it isn't enough food to last me the week. I want to buy a new pair of shoes because all the shoes I have right now are all super glued together in one way or another. I don't want to live this life anymore. Unfortunately, though, I had tunnel vision my whole life. I was going to be an actor and only and actor. There wasn't another option. I never really cared about being famous or winning awards, I just wanted to be an artist and a story teller. So if I stop being an actor, then what do I do? I can't be a mindless office drone and crunch numbers, or push papers, and do data entry all day. I would literally go ape shit on anyone who crossed my path if I did that day in and day out. I need a creative career that pays me some decent money. I don't care about living the, "high life." I would be pretty satisfied to provide a nice life, not an excessive one. The problem is, I don't know what to do and I'm slightly overwhelmed with the options. In the past I only gave myself one option, and as a serious actor that is the only way you can live your life. You live the craft, you are the job, every choice and decision you make is about how to get that next show or call back. So now that I'm thinking of taking a step back from it, which is heartbreaking in a way, what do I do? Jeez.. I totally understand those people on A&E's Intervention now because I think this is what coming off drug addiction feels like. I need an intervention. I seriously need a group of people who love me, hell, at this point I'll take a group of people who kind of know me and/or slightly like me, to gather round and guide me in what to do. And I want letters, people! I want letters that say find a career or get out of my life. If you do not find a career I will not tell you that you are fabulous, go out drinking with you, or that what your wearing makes you look gross. Can I get some tears, too? I'll pay the interventionist extra. I just don't want to work the dead end job anymore. I don't want to wait tables or work retail. I'm about to be 27, which is close to 30 and 30 in the gay world is death. Apparently. I really don't want to be a 30 year old waiter and wish I would have done something when I was 27. So, here's the project of 2010: find a career that I like and that makes money, not could make money, but actual money.

Welcome to my quater-life crisis, people. Enjoy the ride, it should be humorous. And if anyone reads this and wants send me a sandwich, it would be well received. ;)