I think I’m happy again.

I have to use the qualifier term “think” because the truth is it has been such a long time since I’ve been happy that I had forgotten what it feels like.  In fact, the feeling reminds me of a time in my life that I have been unable to look back upon with fondness.  Whether that is because my last time of happiness slid down a very sharp slope or because I was unable to bring myself to recall happiness, it’s all irrelevant now.  For a while, I wondered if I could ever be at this point again.  It took a while, but I think I’m here.

My last post, written nearly two months ago, was written on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  Shortly after composing it, I retreated to my bed and broke down in prayer, begging for something new.  I didn’t know what I wanted anymore, I just wanted something to happen, and I begged and pleaded God for it.  The next morning, as I ventured into Waco to pick up supplies and in turn regain cell phone signal, my prayer was answered in the form of a voice mail from my former place of internship.  I was offered a job.

The ensuing couple weeks were a roller-coaster ride of rushing to make plans and then diving head-first into New York City homelessness.  Staying at a YMCA in a crime-ridden area, I would stare out the window at a gorgeous view of a brick wall.  Luckily, I had friends to remind me that I was in paradise, finally making something happen.  I have God to thank for getting me there, and my friends to thank for keeping me level-headed.  It’s as if, like Job in the Old Testament, I had to lose all my dreams, aspirations, self-image and self-worth before God could bless me.  I had to stop asking for what I wanted and ask God to do His thing.  It’s been an amazing blessing that His thing has been to put me where I’ve been asking all along.

I’ve been in New York for a month and a half, and I have been loving it.  Work, though not glamorous, is phenomenal compared to the temp-ing hell-hole I found myself in in Dallas.  My apartment, though a crap-hole, is *my* crap hole in a neighborhood with a lot of old charm.  Things have really been working themselves out.

I hope I can hold on to what I have found here.  I have always suffered from an extreme form of the Grass-is-Always-Greener Complex.  I have never been quick to make friends, so Friday and Saturday nights can take their toll.  But regardless of what happens, I think I’m happy again.

“Where is the youth we left behind?  Where is the truth that cannot hide?  Where is the world you had in mind?  Was it lost in you, is it lost in me?” - Colin Armstrong

I don’t know who I am anymore. 

There’s a me that I want be, a very distinct, happy me.  But I’m not him.  There’s a me who wakes up at 7 A.M. and goes for a stroll down 5th Avenue or Bleecker Street in NYC as inspiration settles in.  That me settles in with a sleek laptop whose battery never seems to die in a cozy, modern coffee shop.  That me writes for a couple of hours while he sips on a White Chocolate Mocha that he has only ordered because he doesn’t want to seem like a freeloader in said coffeeshop.  That me then spends the afternoon walking the long loop around Central Park or staring at a Salvador Dali painting at the Met.  The day is often finished up with a casual dinner in an Italian restaurant with a healthy glass of red wine before I retreat to my modest, but comfortable loft apartment.

That me doesn’t exist.  In fact, only one aspect of that me really exists, and it is the aspect that is noticeably absent in the above portrait - that of relationships.

The me I see is less than ideal.  The me I see is confused and lost and distinctly not happy.  The me I see takes odd jobs to make the ends meet, but is never satisfied at the end of the day.  The toil is unrewarding and the outcome meaningless in the grand scheme of things.  He then goes home to no one.

The me I see has begun making friends again, but the me I see seems to be willing to sacrifice these friendships for a future that may or may not land me in the life of the me I want to be.  I don’t like the me I see now, but I value the relationships I’ve been blessed to have.  But when relationships are so few and far between, how do they factor into the me I want to be?  My head spins and I walk away with fewer answers and more questions than when I began.

I don’t like the me I see, and the me I want to be is very clearly not me.  If I cannot be the me I want to be, what me am I supposed to be?  Will other people be a part of the me I am supposed to be?  Could that be a new me I want to be?  How do I know if that’s a me I want to be?  What does a new me look like when all I have to base him on is the people around him and ambitions related to the original me I wanted to be are no longer factored in?

I don’t know who I am anymore.

One year ago today, I had my last class as an undergraduate.

One year ago today, I was offered a job by the president of a television production company.

One year ago today, I turned twenty-two. By all accounts, I should not be able to remember the ensuing night, but I do and I remember it fondly. For those that weren’t there, I promise you, it was a celebration. Parts of me wish I could be spending this birthday at Rudy’s Bar & Grill in Manhattan with my closest friends, but it just wouldn’t be the same.

You see, I’ve squandered this last year of my life. My twenty-second birthday was great because I was concluding one hell of an academic run if I do say so myself. It was great because I was being offered the kind of job I’d wanted for so long. It was great because though one chapter was coming to a close, I could see the future approaching rapidly and I was ready to take it on.

So what went wrong? For the last year I have done nothing but make excuses and lie to myself and others. I didn’t accept the job in New York because “the pay was too little.” I practically laid in bed for six months because “I was exhausted from an intensive year at Baylor.” In the last 365 days, I have told countless people – AND MYSELF!!! – that I was using my free-time to write.

I’ve written a whopping four pages and scribbled down a couple pages of notes that hardly count for an outline.

I’m done making excuses and I’m sick of lying to myself. Though I don’t traditionally make a huge deal out of birthdays, I suppose this day is as good as any to mark a new beginning.

I hate my job right now. It’s not a bad job, but it’s not where I want to be. As such, I’ve spent the last two weeks of my free time developing StolenLawnmower.com (still not done, but it’s coming along). I’m breaking out of my lazy habits and starting to be productive again. Let me tell you, it feels good. Damn good.

I’m no longer content to sit around and watch CBS and play Grand Theft Auto and merely talk about my candy-coated future. I’ve made many mistakes this last year, but I’m ready to forgive myself and pick up – as best I can – where I left off one year ago. The future I want won’t be handed to me. It’s up to me and me alone to make stuff happen.

One year ago, I told people I would have a film in the can by my twenty-fourth birthday. I’m now twenty three and behind, but I’m ready and willing to make up for lost time.

Hello my future. It’s me again. Miss me?

Soundtrack To Life
IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here’s how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool…

Opening Credits:
Steve Winwood - While You See A Chance

Waking Up:
Meat Loaf - Dead Ringer For Love

First Day At School:
Simon & Garfunkel - A Hazy Shade Of Winter

Childhood:
Angie Aparo - It’s Alright

Falling In Love:
Switchfoot - Dare You To Move (interesting choice, iTunes… interesting choice, indeed...)

Fight Song:
Andy Zipf - Maybe Tonight

Breaking Up:
Matisyahu - What I’m Fighting For

Prom:
Johnny Cash - Cry, Cry, Cry

Life:
Linkin Park - Breaking The Habit

College:
Blessid Union of Souls - Stone Glass Window

High School:
Jars of Clay - Love Song For A Savior

Mental Breakdown:
Barry White - Never, Never Gonna Give You Up (not a bad breakdown song… i can see this very cinematically...)

Driving:
Kylie Minogue - The Loco-Motion

Flashback:
Heart - All I Want To Do Is Make Love To You

Getting Back Together:
Phil Collins - Another Day In Paradise

Wedding:
Boyz 2 Men - On Bended Knee

Birth of Child:
Ruben Studdard - Sorry 2004 (whuh-oh!)

Final Battle:
Stevie Wonder - Superstition

Death Scene:
Enrique Iglesias - Bailamos

Funeral Song:
Snap - Rhythm Is A Dancer (that’s right… dance it up!)

End Credits:
James Taylor - You Can Close Your Eyes

It is 6:49 a.m. I am in the Castellaw video editing room. I’ve been up all night. I feel awake, thanks to good old adrenaline, but my stomach is starting to feel not so great. All this means nothing to me, because I have finished my first rough cut of “Filtered,” my short film that has been driving me crazy for the last two months.

Obviously, it’s rough. But I’ll be damned if I’m not pleased with how it looks so far. It neeeds a LOT of tweaks… but… man, I’m happy. Even the down-converted, crappily composited, one-pass DVD I just threw together blows everything I’ve ever done out of the water. I can’t wait to finish this thing. It will be a glorious day. A glorious day, indeed.

Yeah, so I’m totally drunk right niow… I saw Just Friends… and it made me want to drink… so i had two bottles of wiune and four jack daniels mix thingies.

goddamn eruyan reuynolds movie makes the movie i just shot look like a fucking cliff notes to just friends… fuck iut.  god damn ryan rewynolds.  i can’t type.  fuck it.  i’m going to bed.

damn.

Well, I finished shooting last weekend.  Finished down-converting the footage on Friday.  Now I need to start editing.  I’ll do that tomorrow.

The stress is killing me.

• I have to give a presentation tomorrow on a Director of my choice.  I chose Dario Argento.  I’m not quite sure what I’m going to say yet. (Done 11/21)
• I have to have 10 more pages of my screenplay for Feature Film Writing by Tuesday. (Done 11/22)
• I have a Production Journal also due Tuesday which basically means I have to gather every print out from Studio Production from the whole semester, print out extra ones from the internet, and combine in to a big ass binder and turn it in. (Done 11/21)
• I have yet another 10 pages of my screenplay due the 29th. (Done 11/29)
• I have to do some research for Diffusion of Innovations on the social perception of gamers for a group presentation to also be due the 29th. (Done 11/27)
• I have to have a rough, SD draft of my short film by the 30th (only because I won’t have time to do my HD up-convert and final compositing work by then.  It’ll be impossible.  Almost.) (Done 11/30)
• I have to make sure my peons finish up our compositing project for Studio by the 1st (Done 11/21) and put together our Production Journal, due the same day (Done 11/30).
• Take my actors and Brian out for a nice meal as a thank you for taking my shit the last couple weeks. (Done 12/9)
• Write up a narrative describing my short film production process to be turned in as my Directing “final”. Due Thursday, December 8th - 10 a.m. (Done 12/8).
• Study for my Diffusion final. Friday December 9th - 9 a.m. (Done 12/9)
• During this time, I’ll have to finish off ANOTHER 20 pages of my screen play.  Due Monday, December 12th - Noon. (Done 12/12)
• Take Racquetball Final. (Done 12/12)
• At this point, I’ll have to do my HD upconvert (Done 12/12) and all my post-compositing work in Shake which will take forever and a day…
• Make the DVD of the short film…
• I STILL haven’t applied for my internships in New York, which is a VERY, VERY bad thing… (Status:  5 Applications Sent)

But that’s not all…

• Then before I can go home, I have to finish off the McClelland / Munn wedding video which I haven’t been able to finish off yet for various reasons (Long story including early manifestations of all of the above).  I cannot go home without having this thing done and ready to hand to them.  It’s been far, far too long.
• And speaking of weddings, I made the idiot agreement to shoot the Callahan wedding this coming Saturday... (Done 11/26) Something I won’t be able to start editing or do ANYTHING with until all the above is done...

And I’m not even sure if that’s everything… I’m just hoping it’s everything.  I’ve probably forgotten something, though.  I’m stressing.  And there will be no end to the stress until I go home.  I can’t wait to get the hell out of this God-forsaken town.  I’ve come to associate Waco with all my stress and frustrations, and I now hate it.  Hate it with a passion.

I’ve gotta get out of here.

I think I may have gotten in over my head.  I’m staring at a stack of equipment I just checked out from Baylor.  A stack of equipment that took me 45 minutes to check out because there’s just so much.

I’m starting to shoot tomorrow and I don’t have a full, set crew.  I’m going to have to man almost every conceivable position while still directing.  I deserve some kind of medal if I can make it through November without snapping.

Stress, stress, stress.  Oh, the stress.

Shooting begins Saturday morning on my magnum opus.

Pray for me.

One person.

One.

One person showed up to my four hour long casting call today.  That’s depressing.  I advertised via flyers in both the communications and the fine arts buildings AND I even bought two days worth of ads on the facebook.  And ONE person showed up.  I’m sad.  I want my $30 back from facebook.

I should probably be more sad than I am, though.  I got an e-mail today from a mother of a Baylor freshman who lives in Brooks Hall.  Apparently the guys of Brooks had forgotten their legacy and were saying that putting the flame out was NOT a Brooks Hall tradition.  Some kid e-mailed his mom, his mom found the video I made as a Sophomore documenting the tradition, his mom e-mailed the link to the son, the video made the rounds in Brooks Hall yet again and the tradition was kept alive.  All because of my video.  All because of my crappy MTV-like video.  So that’s nice.

But ONLY ONE PERSON?!  ugh…

Life has just been one crazy rollercoaster ride the last couple months.  Things are back up, though, and life is good… for now.

I’m coming to the realization that work doesn’t suck, although for some reason Tuesday seems to be the weekly “Stiff your local pizza delivery driver night.” So other than Tuesdays, Dominos is actually a half-way decent place to work—especially now that I’m only working 15 hours.  It feels more like a hobby than a job, and that’s good ‘cause 25 hours was scary.  It’s interesting what difference just 10 hours can make.

School is getting better as well.  We had our NYC orientation meeting today and I got to talk to Dr. Kickasola about paying for New York.  So long as I can get the Financial Aid office to send an e-mail to him stating that I have money on it’s way, I don’t have to worry about the early payment plan.  Sounds easy enough, but I’m hesitant to say that’s good ‘cause the Financial Office has a really awful track record when it comes to helping me.  At the very least, it’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

I got my silent film exercise out the way.  It wasn’t particularly amazing, but I’m happy with the way it came out considering I only spent like 2 hours shooting it.  I might re-edit it later for improved flow, but now that it’s out of the way, the stress seems to have miraculously lifted and I am REALLY excited about starting up my short film.  Hopefully I’ll be able to start shooting by the end of October / beginning of November.  Ideas are flooding into my head faster than I can process them, but I’m almost certain I’m going to need to schmooze certain professors and see if I can’t get access to the HD equipment.  I want to do this short right, and with the ideas I have, that’s going to require kick-ass equipment.

In summation, life is good.  Better, at least.  And God is good.  I don’t say that often (at least, not out loud), as quite frankly it really goes without saying, but it’s true.  And I want to say it.  God is good.  He’s the only thing holding me together through this time.  So, yes.  God is good.

I feel better today.  I found out that my parents will be able to help secure the deposit so I can go to New York come January.  I cleaned up at work - made some niiiiiice tip money.

I’m still stressed, but the scariness is gone for now.  Hopefully it was just because it was Monday.  Mondays suck.  Especially when life isn’t peachy.

“I am a song.  I’ve been here all along.  Be here when the hatred’s gone.  Hey, can you recognize me?  I am the light of the sun.” - Angie Aparo

There was a scary moment as I was walking home from my Racquetball class today.  I could have sworn I was going to lose it, as in nervous breakdown lose it.  The tears were welling up, but I played it off as allergies, so passing Katy on the way into the apartment was an interesting moment.  I don’t think she noticed, though she’ll know now if she reads this… The reality of my life, concerning these three months of October through December, while I had been fully conscious of all of it, hit me all at once.

This is supposed to be the greatest semester for me here at Baylor.  I’m finally able to take a full load exclusively with the classes I have WANTED to take since I first enrolled, but instead of this semester rocking, it is sucking something nasty.  These classes that I’ve waited so long to take require a lot of outside work, which I don’t mind, because as I’ve said, they’re classes I’ve been WANTING to take.  Now, while I admit my current financial situation is as much my fault as it is Baylor/Bank of America’s (giant, monstrous snag in the line of communication this summer), I find myself in the position where I have to take a job just so I can pay my bills and eat until January when the next set of loans are disbursed.  I took a job as a delivery driver for Domino’s Pizza, which isn’t a hard job, but looking at my schedule now, I have absolutely NO clue how I am going to balance 17 hours of classes (though officially my transcript only reads 13), a 25-hour-a-week job, and all the outside projects I have to do for those classes.

I am FRIGHTENED right now beyond belief, and I’m not afraid to admit it.  I can feel an ulcer developing right now as the knot in my stomach twists itself into formations only theoretical mathematicians are familiar with.

James and I are collaborating on a new video project which will serve as my final project for Directing The Film.  It has the promise and potential to be the best thing I / we’ve ever done, if it’s done right.  IF… IF it is done right.  Pardon my French, but how the hell am I supposed to focus on making my last project at Baylor the best one yet when I’m walking a fucking tightrope trying to balance my fucking schedule?!

I have a silent film due next Monday.  I still don’t know what I am going to do for it, but because of my job, I’m not going to have time to even touch it until Saturday, and even then I work Saturday night.  I’m not worried about how the silent film comes out, because it’s just an exercize.  I am VERY worried about how the hell I’m going to get it done in time.

I have my music going right now to calm me.  I call it my Prozac Mix, ‘though I’m sure it’s much more effective than any medication.  I feel like I’ve got my shield up well enough that I’ll make it through December, because at this moment that’s all I’m worried about:  Making it through December.  I just feel like I’m going to turn a corner one of these days, leaving my back exposed for a full attack from our friend - the breakdown.

I hope this is just a really bad case of the Mondays.  I don’t know how long I can live like this :(

I just got done watching “Night of the Living Dead.” Again.  I can’t get enough of the whole Romero series (Night, Dawn [78], Day, Land) and the more I watch them, the deeper the messages seem to get, or at least more personal.  At the very least, they make me THINK.

Today in Feature Film Writing we had to speak for a little bit about a character in literature, cinema, whatever that we tend to associate with.  Although my choice of Riley from Land of the Dead wasn’t that profound (or maybe obvious) compared to other choices (Jean val Jean from Les Mislerables, etc.), the more I think about his situation, the more I find myself thinking about my situation.

The moment in Land of the Dead that sticks out the most is when Riley, Charlie and Slack are in prison and Slack asks Riley what his story is.  His response is “I don’t have a story.  Nothing bad ever happened to me.” The guy is in prison, and he is still able to say nothing bad ever happened to him.  He is in a world overrun with walking dead, and he is still able to say nothing bad ever happened to him.

This speaks to me on so many levels, believe it or not.  On one level, I see awful things happen around me all the time.  This world isn’t in the greatest state.  People die of cancer, people watch their neighborhoods wash away in a matter of minutes, etc.  But nothing bad has ever happened to me, and while I may not necessarily think about it regularly in those terms, I do tend to look at the glass being half full.  At least, I try to.

Going deeper, I see the whole scenario as even a possible representation of spirituality.  The dead are those who’ve yet to find Christ and those alive in Christ must fend off the onslaught.  If this is the case, then, how do I reconcile that with the fact that in the Dead series, the humans tend to be enemies.  All this crap about zombies happen, but in every movie, humans turn on each other, and in the end, humans are the end of other humans.  I can’t remember the exact line, but in Dawn ‘78, a priest says something along the lines of “In a world where the dead are coming to life, we must stop killing or lose the war.”

Are we as Christians cannibalizing our own?  It’s not a thought one likes to think about.  I certainly don’t.  But what comes to mind at this point is the Brennan Manning statement (used by dc Talk on the Jesus Freak album) that “the number one cause for athiesm in the world is Christians...” Good intentions can only go so far, but if we’re not acting in love for one another, and I mean true RESPECTFUL love, we’re going to lose the war.  Love and respect seems to have been lost, and outrageous fundamentalist efforts, while well intentioned, seem to have the opposite effect from what is desired.

I’m almost certain that’s not the statement Romero was going for, even in the slightest.  It really isn’t even a direct thought stemming from the movie, just the result of long, drawn-out, and partially scattered thinking on the nature of human vs. human activity in a world full of zombies.

“You don’t have a lot, but it’s all that you’ve got and you can turn it into more than it seems...” - Meat Loaf

Have you ever done something, seen something… experienced something that gives you that same feeling you get when you meet the most awesome girl in the world? Or guy, for you ladies out there. I’ve had that feeling twice in the last couple months. I’m not sure whether it’s the lack of girls making me feel that way lately (’cause it has been a while since a girl has messed up my head in a good way), or just a deeper appreciation for the simple things in life.

Tonight, that thing was The 40 Year Old Virgin. Yes. You read that right. The 40 Year Old Virgin was such an amazing movie, I feel like I’ve met the most amazing girl in the world. And it’s not a girl. And it’s not a gay thing. I’m not talking about the people in the movie. I’m talking about the movie itself. Seeing that movie has made me happy. It’s as raunchy as you’d expect an R-rated movie entited The 40 Year Old Virgin to be, but the ending is beautiful, AMAZING and FUNNY AS HELL. I laughed so hard that James says he was embarassed to be sitting in my proximity.

I have that feeling though. That feeling like I need to go on Oprah and jump all over her furniture and scream “I’m in love!” But it’s not a person. And I think that this might all be a little bit weird. Even for me. This feeling isn’t even really directed towards the movie or anything or anyone in particular. I just have that deep feeling of happiness now, mere moments after seeing it.

This feeling is familar. It reminds me of the after-effects of the most amazing dream I’ve ever had. Back when I was on the set of the movie, I went to sleep one night and dreamt that I ran into the first girl who ever rejected me (there have been several… they’re the rule, not the exception) and she didn’t recognize me, so I Casanova’d her into falling for me before the alarm clock woke me up and burst the most amazing, beautiful bubble I’ve ever been in. For a week afterwards, I felt like I was walking around on a cloud, even though it was just a dream. I didn’t meet a new girl. My subconscious just created one and gave her a real past. I didn’t fall in love with the fantasy girl or any girl for that matter… But I felt like I had.

As for the movie, I really associated with Andy. His friends remind me of Sam and Alvy, my roommate and his best friend from Freshman year, who both swore they’d get me “high, shit-faced and laid” by the end of said year (We’ve since moved on in separate paths). The movie of my life hasn’t ended yet, but I look forward to the day I can turn to my wife and sing “When the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars...” and we both know exactly what I mean and we can burst into a full-fledged chorus of “Let the Sun Shine In.”

I know God has someone out there for me. I can’t wait until He brings her into my life. Someday… Someday…

I love this feeling, though… And I know it won’t last, and I don’t know what will bring it on again next, but I do hope that next time… it’ll be a lady.

I like ladies.