I get that there’s an imbalance. The chemical soup misfires neurons (or doesn’t) and causes unpredictability.
As a result, I get sad, I get paranoid. I made bad decisions. I second-guess good decisions.
It’s a learning curve, and I’m doing the best I can. Medications are taken daily, the doctor is visited weekly. This blog is written in daily, even if it’s just saying that I can’t put words down and, like a stale Family Guy joke, I throw to a youtube clip of Conway Twitty.
The thing is, I’m trying.
All I ask in return is, every so often allow me a little piece of mind. And maybe help with the rewrites to the play.
It’s not that I can’t. It’s holding onto it. Like sand, running through my fingers. Warm from the sun, tickling the skin. But eventually the last grains fall away, leaving only an impression of what was.
And then I look again. Reach again.
It’s funny, and a bit sad, how the definition of ‘happiness’ changes with circumstance as well. But when you really examine it, it’s a puzzle. Happiness comes in pieces that eventually you lock together and forms a complete picture.
And I don’t think I’ve ever had that. Sometimes I’m not even sure what the picture is.
Right now, there are several pieces I’m trying to fit together. Finding work, writing the new draft of the play. I’ve been trying to find work for over 18 months now. I’ve had minor success with freelancing, but nowhere near what I need to survive, let alone thrive. And my moods are tied into self-worth, and I need to feel positive in order to write. So if I’m not having an ‘up’ day, nothing’s going to spark my creativity.
But then there’s last night. I was at Subspace. I met Bowmanville (yes, I now know her name, but last night I only knew where she lived; she thought the nickname was cute). We scened, which was quite natural. (Got to love when that happens.) And after, asked if I wanted to smoke. Which I don’t any longer. Even though I’d forgotten my e-cigarette at home last night. (I debated going back for it but didn’t; turns out my willpower is better than I anticipated.) But, she said, would I like to smoke?
Ah.
I have a complicated history with that as well. Didn’t try it for the first time until my late 20s. Not a habitual user in any sense of the word. And it can affect me in really odd ways. Last October it made me (more) paranoid and anxious. So I swore off it until pretty much the new year. And last night, as I took my leave before I became a babbling mess, inspiration struck like thunder. Opened avenues for the play that, as I reflect on it today, are pretty fuckin’ brilliant.
Yeah. I’m afraid if I blink, it’s gonna get less real.
I had an interview today. Doing layout for a weekly newspaper. Mom and pop company. Part-time, two days a week. The initial interview went so well. I was on point, open and positive. They liked what I had to offer, so they asked me to sit down and do a mock page layout for them. See the goods.
I’m thinking, ‘awesome, I’ve got this’. I go to load InDesign. Then I’m told, no, the files in PageMaker.
Well, crap. I haven’t worked in PageMaker in ages. It’s the precursor to InDesign, so I know some stuff, but really.
And one thing they told me earlier, they haven’t set up a template. You’d think there would be a template. It is something they said they want to build in the near future. Given you’d want the styles and colours, column layout, etc., it’d be a HUGE help. But I found an older file and was able to delete the old stuff and tweak.
Here’s where I say just how much I hate PageMaker. You can’t keep style et al tabs open. Aligning is a bitch. There’s only a couple of ‘undoes’ you can use if there’s a mistake. I end up losing most of the text (I have no idea why) and have to reimport it and then the layout doesn’t fit the same. I can’t properly scale the adverts within the bounding boxes.
I’m at this for an hour, and I’m sucking wind. At this point, I know I’m not getting the job. I have to admit to the owner/EIC that if it was InDesign I’d have had it done within 20 minutes, but I don’t have the skill for PageMaker.
And then he says: “So do it in InDesign; I want to see what you can do.”
I didn’t crack my knuckles, because that’d be egotistic. But the thought was there.
I import the page into InDesign. It brings in the styles, the columns. Everything. Just like it should. And it takes me 20 minutes, like I said. I own this bitch. By this time it’s after 5pm (I’ve been there since 3pm), and they wanted to see what I could do with modifying a client ad spec but there’s no time. We shake hands. I’m thinking, maybe. If the other guy on Monday crashes and burns. I’m not trying to put all my self-worth into this.
Half an hour ago I got an email, asking if I could come in Tuesday afternoon to talk with their senior layout editor. Ask questions, figure out some of the tricks he uses.
This dog can still hunt.
Now watch this video. I closed my eyes and I was back in New Orleans. It’s that good.
I met with my friend Kelly and we saw a taping of George Stroumboulopoulos. Brent Butt was funny, but the surprise was Stedman Graham (Oprah’s SO). I had no idea he’d written 11 book. His latest was about identity, and how you can make a positive influence not just on others, but yourself. I suspect I was meant to see this taping today (even though he was the ‘mystery guest’ and had no idea this was going to happen). Afterwards I met Mr. Stroumboulopoulos (“Hi, I’m George”), a very personable man. And he’s got a great interview style, really cares about his guests. I’m sure his researchers do a fuck ton of work, given some of the stuff they pulled out.
And oh yes, I ran into Toronto Spiderman on the subway on the way to the CBC.
Earlier in the day? Got a bit of work in. While at the taping? More work. I finished it half an hour ago.
Sadly, there was banging over my head until 11pm tonight. The landlord was rerouting plumbing. We were without water from noon to after 10pm, because when he put it back on at 8, he’d sprung a leak. Oh joy. And I still have to squeeze past the bloody dumpster any time I want to leave the apartment.
But my day didn’t suck.
p.s. Did you know the CBC used to have TV shows called ‘Man vs Turkey’ and ‘Brian Williams Celebrity Tennis’? I’d totally watch those.
Friendly Giant 🙂
I would wear the hell out of this jacket.A very personable man.
I’ll write more in depth about the weekend. Probably tomorrow or Tuesday. Today is decompression, coupled with sneezing fits and possibly the beginnings of a cold.
This much I’m sure of: I can write. And I’m good at it. I’ve doubted myself plenty over the years. I need to stop thinking that way.
MARY Wait. You never told me the secret to flying.
RACHEL Believe in yourself. Once you do that, anything is possible. Even flying.
