Prioritize and Proselytize

A few weeks ago, I had an eye-opening experience. A positive one. I didn't watch someone butcher children or defecate on children or force children to childrenize each other... just lay off the children, OK? Damn, you're obsessed! (We'll talk about the children later, after the others are gone)

On this particular even, I visited a friend for his going away party. He was taking off for California to find gold, I assume. He's a prospector. This friend told me that a girl we had worked with on a show was now a feature player on Saturday Night Live. In fact, the season's first episode was to debut that very night. So we watched the first half of the show (Why not the entire show? Because it's a fucking terrible show, that's why. Don't get me wrong. I'd work there if they came a callin.' But it's a fucking terrible show.). And there she was! Good for her, we cheered. I didn't know her well. I'm not going to pretend like I did. I found her to be a delightful lady and I enjoyed working with her, but that's it. What struck me, though, was that the show we worked on wasn't really all that long ago. We were in a very similar position for awhile. Watching her that night made me realize that... oh... getting paid to do comedy is actually attainable. It occurred to me that I don't really think I believed I could seriously get paid to do what I enjoy. I knew it intellectually. I knew it could be done. But I felt it acutely that night.

Well actually, I felt it Monday. As I was back at work, dropping Lucky Charms' marshmallows onto the gray faded carpet, hoping no one would see me pick them back up and put them in my mouth. My normally enjoyable podcasts felt a bit hollow to me. Most of them are hosted by comedy writers and performers talking about the things they've done. I was just listening. Not doing.

It's been a few weeks since then, and I've moved on to eating different cereals. But that feeling has lasted. Not in a pressurized oh-god-I-need-to-get-my-shit-together-fast sort of way. But in a collected, rational manner. The difference between me and that girl isn't in talent or looks or even in "who you know." It's that she knows what her thing is and she does it. She works her ass off at it. I know my thing, but I double-think it constantly and skirt the doing.

If I really want to pursue comedy and make a living at it, I need to work at it every day. It ought to be my priority. I need to step it up and get myself out there consistently. As cliche as it sounds, it's true that it's a marathon. So let's get to it. By let's, I mean me. You can help if you want.

There... that was easy. Am I making a living at comedy now? Now?

God damn it all! I blame the children!

Meeting of the Finance... Week... I Dunno... Eleventeen?

It's been a hen's year since I've brought up my financial life. The short of it is this: I'm still in debt. I have the same shitty job. Yet strangely enough, I remain optimistic. Perhaps that's the American in me. When I was 5 months old, I accidentally swallowed a tiny American, brimming with enthusiasm and a can-do attitude. Much like the Sarlacc Pit, it will take him a thousand years to be digested. That's my goofy American friend who lives in my body!

A while back, my girlfriend (nay, fiancée!), Jessica, loaned me some money to attenuate my burdensome credit card debt. Since then, I've been paying my card off monthly at around triple the minimum requirement. The only thing I've purchased with it since then has been an engagement ring. I've been scatter-shot about snowflake payments (I tend to do them when Jessica reminds me), but I have been making them. Despite my noble donations to the debt monster, paying off this card is a much slower process than I anticipated it to be. I'm not in a stagnant position, but I need to close the gap faster.

In addition to paying my monthly more-than-minimum fee and snowflaking (working on average $5 a week), I hereby decree that I will put all extra money I accrue outside my day job hours into the credit card. Theater work, monetary gifts, boons and prizes, petty crime... all will be funneled into my debt's gaping maw.

I say this a lot, but if I don't keep pounding it into my head and vagina, I'll never learn: I must be extremely vigilant about my finances. Last week I discovered I was overdue on a bill. I hadn't set up an email alert and I plumb forgot about it. That cost me $24 that I hadn't budgeted. I'm going to work to condense all my bills into one virtual arena so I can stop fumbling with papers and calendars and receipts. I mean, really. That's so 1998. My paper system in a fancy binder has been useful, but I have been making too many miscalculations and screwing up bill due dates far too often. My bad math skills (which I will eventually improve) are holding me back and, on occasion, costing me money. I will rectify this by getting it all onto my bank's website. And maybe I can find an online budget management site that will do the math for me... and hope I don't get a virus.

Making Smarties

Here is one of my biggest problems. I am interested in everything. I mean fucking everything. I am interested in history, evolution, bike repair, language, astronomy, meditation, music, information technology, psychology, sociology, insects, politics, everything. Even the things I'm not interested in... I'm still sort of interested in knowing more about. Like cars and real estate.

Not only is it impossible for me to know everything, but for whatever reason, I'm fairly lazy and prone to anxiety whenever I neglect another form of knowledge or task for too long. For example, a few months ago I wanted to reteach myself high school math like algebra and trig. I wanted to get into calculus, too. Math is a fear I desired to conquer. So I bought an algebra book and worked halfway through it before I became distracted by... well, life, I guess. After two or three months of letting the book sit untouched, I revisited my previous work and found I remembered almost nothing. I plan to re-familiarize myself with the material but I'm caught up in other interests at the moment. That disappoints me a bit.

I am performing an experiment. I'm two weeks into it, actually. What I'm doing is I am taking on several subjects simultaneously in small increments. The subjects I picked are ones that when I visualize 10 years into the future, I want this information at the ready. I am currently attacking three subjects. Spanish, astronomy, and vocabulary. Whee! I'm in middle school! Spanish is a 15 minute per day event. I've got my numbers down and I'm plowing through basic grammar. I have astronomy flash cards by which I will learn a card every other day or so. I will review what I have learned every day by quizzing myself. Finally, I made some vocab cards. I will learn a new word every day and try to incorporate it into conversation or writing. Does that sound egregious to you? I should hope not.

My hope is that learning in smaller, more concentrated doses will allow me to retain the new information for longer periods of time without getting burned out. I can afford 15 minutes a day to learn that la moto is feminized even though it ends with a masculine vowel. I'm already discovering that routinely quizzing myself with flash cards is an effective way to study. If you run into me, ask me how much the Hubble telescope weighs. I will blow you with knowledge. Blow you away, I mean.

Learning revitalizes me and builds up my self-confidence. If I administer learning 'shots' every day, perhaps I will see some positive results beyond information retention.

Marriage and the Monkey Mind

I sure have been away. But you know what? I'm not going to apologize or feel guilty for my severe lack of posts. I'm through with that. I've got a lot going on in my environment and in my mind, baby! A lot going on in my mind.

For instance, I became engaged. That's right. I proposed to Jessica and she begrudgingly said "meh," which sort of means yes. Oh, how must I pull the love out of her like a powerful marlin must be pulled ashore from within the oceans' depths! It all happened somewhat spontaneously. We were looking at rings for fun, discussing marriage as a possibility, and lo and behold, we came across a pretty little vintage ring that we both love. So I dropped some dough on it right then and there. It was surprisingly inexpensive. A little later on, I 'officially' proposed and we shall be wed next fall. Congratulations, me!

The idea of marriage has historically been difficult for me to come to terms with. My parents were divorced, some of my friends couldn't hold their marriages together, and those who stayed together looked as though weren't enjoying each others' company so much. Yes, I knew people with happy marriages. But they were in the minority. And who knew what was going on behind closed doors? It took me years to learn to love myself enough to accept a long-term relationship. The prospect of pushing that commitment even deeper has required a lot more work on the self. But I've gotten used to the idea and now I welcome it. It will be challenging. I have no doubt about that. But if I remain open and honest and keep my head, we'll be just dandy.