Category: Storytime

Posted in Nonsensical, Pandemic, Storytime

Fact Checking Hate Mail

Posted on by Minimal.Effort

My ex-boyfriend’s mother decided to email me a week ago. There are two things interesting about this email:

  1. She made all these assumptions without speaking more than two words to me. I always say this but I’m ok with you hating me if you actually MET me.
  2. I don’t understand the hostility.
  3. I don’t know what she thought she would accomplish with this email. That I would silently cry to sleep? Or that I would lash back, when I really don’t know anything about her nor would she even read my words. So, I decided to post on facebook. Might as well let it all hang out. Majority of my friends know that she just doesn’t like me and I’ve accepted that as my destiny.

hokey.pxxxx@ 5:43 PM (1 hour ago)to me

Needless to say, I am aware of the latest addition of the disastrous debacle relating to your job firing from [TV company]

Well. First of all, this sentence doesn’t make sense. The latest addition to my debacle? My debacle relating to my job firing? So, that means I have a debacle, which is disastrous by the way. And it’s cousins with my job firing. But there are additions to this debacle and I think they are related to my lay-off.

FACT CHECK: I, along with 700ish other people got laid off NOT fired. Fired assumes that we did our job wrong and will not get severance. I wonder if I sent this comment to the entire department (yes, myself and an ENTIRE department was laid off), if they would take this criticism well?

https://variety.com/2020/tv/news/warnermedia-layoffs-warner-brothers-hbo-1234729976/

Spurred by my disgust and anger, I feel compelled to speak up.

This is something I saw on the Sopranos. Tony’s mom was always trying to get some ‘negative attention getting.’ When I’m disgusted and angry, I feel like vomiting. When it spurs me though, I actually vomit. But what I’m reading is….’before I vomit, I will compel myself to speak up.’

FACT CHECK: My ex and I dated for nearly 13 years. And in those 13 years, she has never felt compelled to speak up, she dumps it on my ex. Sooo…basically, she felt compelled to try to kick me while I’m down so I don’t have the energy to respond? I wasn’t sad though, I didn’t mind the lay-off. I need a break from corporate culture, so I was actually relieved. What she REALLY wanted is to be so hostile to me, so I wouldn’t think about getting back together with him OR for me to run to my ex and tattle on her so he is forced to communicate with her (I think they had a fight or something).

What I actually did is encourage him to get his own place and if he was interested in being in a relationship, I expect to be wooed by an adult man or Hugh Jackman. Whichever choice is available.

This firing came as no surprise. You have used every possible excuse, and various causes to milk [company] of their good intentions to help you. As I see it, you just wanted to stay home, sit on the couch and still get paid. That is still your objective. I predicted they would find a way to get rid of you. You were a problematic employee costing them money and leadership issues—TROUBLE with a capital T.

The person who wrote this was a music teacher in Maine. She has had the same job for decades and decades and decades. I simply cannot do that. There so many interesting mysteries and problems in the world that I want to experience. My resume and experience reflects that. I wanted to learn about post production, so I’ve pretty much done every single job in post production except run my own shop. I’ve been the post supervisor, phone support, project engineer, workflow consultant, trainer, project manager, technical advisor and subject matter expert to almost every network in the United States. She has complained to my ex that I’m merely a job-hopper who can’t keep a job. But, really, I get hired away constantly. I’m going to go where the package says ‘we acknowledge your talent, come work with us.’ In fact, I’ve received 5 job offers since I was laid off and I wasn’t even looking for a job! I actually declined all of them to work on writing for the rest of the year.

FACT CHECK: I actually tried to quit, not once, not twice but three times. My really awesome company said ‘Nope. You’re self-sabotaging, we’re going to get you help.’ I’m very lucky that this is inline with the mental health era where companies are actually starting to understand that you will make more money and better productivity if you check on your employees health from time to time. They got me help and when I returned, my was able to grow my team twice it size, finish a 90 page SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) and prepare a work at home environment. I could’ve just went to work everyday and stared at facebook and sent text messages during meetings. Instead, the investment into my mental health rewarded them with a highly engaged employee who was passionate about efficient workflows.

One can always pay for a sympathetic therapist to agree with you. It won’t help you, however.I have lost count of your job changes since [ex-boyfriend] has been with you. Guessing it might be 9. He has followed you from job to job, city to city and coast to coast all contributing to a financial calamity of expenses, over spending, unpaid bills.

The writer of this email OBVIOUSLY does not believe in healing power of psychotherapy. My only comment is, if she did have a therapist, she may have not sent this email. Maybe she could’ve called.

FACT CHECK: Dude, I have had WAY MORE than 9 jobs. My LinkedIn profile has more than 40 recommendations from all those jobs. I see it as a strength though, not weakness. Also, living in different areas of the country was pretty awesome. I think the South gets a bad rap, I think Massachusetts has the smartest and funniest people in America but they also have the most racist and elitist people too. (Side story: I had an argument with a Massachusetts bred gentlemen about baseball. I said Trevor Hoffman was a lights out pitcher, this gentlemen said the Hoff must be a terrible pitcher. I said, ‘no, lights out is you’re so good, that you turn off the lights and the game is over.’ He said ‘no, lights out means you’re terrible and the batters are hitting balls that are so high and gone, they are knocking out the light bulbs.’ I said that was a Disney movie and to google it. He refused to google. Elitist. Sigh.

I think the average time you have spent in a job is about a year and a half. Then as you stated in one of your face book rants, you get BORED and can’t imagine why you are unappreciated. BUT in your boredom, you plan another trip, another cruise, maybe cross Atlantic, or NZ, or Alaska all with money you don’t have or more specifically, what [ex-boyfriend] doesn’t have.

The average time is actually 2-3 years. I can’t help it if another company comes along with better salary or benefits. Or if that company will MOVE YOU ACROSS THE COUNTRY to one of the biggest cities in the country. I would be an idiot to not even consider the offers that come by. I don’t even know how she saw any of my facebook posts (find out later, cousin of ex-boyfriend read my posts to her over the phone. Talk about a shit stirrer. Promptly unfriended).

FACT CHECK: It’s true, I do get bored. I guess that’s a bad thing but for me, I’m just curious about EVERYTHING. I’m obsessed with perspective, experience, and different realities. I’m one of those people, when I’m on the freeway, I look at the other cars and wonder about all those peoples’ lives. What are they thinking? Where are they going? Is that guy picking his nose? But, I digress. It’s also true my ex and I went to vacations to NZ, Alaska and across the Atlantic. It is also true that my ex didn’t have any money during these trips — I did. I was bankrolling us for awhile when I was a freelancer. Sometimes I would get these 60 day jobs and I would get a big paycheck. What am I going to do with that paycheck? I’m going to effing New Zealand and check out Hobbiton. Or that cruise across the Atlantic (which drops us off at our doorstep in New York? Yes, please). I work hard, so I’m going to play hard as well.

By the way, since we are on the subject of face book, I have never read such a bunch of crap, such a bunch of shit and such a bunch of crazy ramblings. Why do you think people care??? MY analysis is that you want attention, and you want people to feel sorry for you. The feed back you are getting is misplaced because you are NOT smart or clever, except when it comes to capitalizing on the ME TOO movement.

Again, how did she read all this? I wonder how long she’s been reading this? Oh well. Yes, I may have crazy rambling and a bunch of shit, but it’s my shit that I’m sharing with my friends. If they weren’t my friends, I wouldn’t be sharing in the first place. And after a lot of these crazy post ramblings, I get a whole lot of email and texts about how much my friends care. They don’t have to do that.

FACT CHECK: Why do I think people care? Uh….because they told me and I don’t have any reason to not believe them. I didn’t ask for this white woman’s analysis but here she is, giving it to me. Anybody who is my friend knows the LAST thing I want is for people to feel sorry for me. I actually get angry if any of them did feel sorry for me. I guess I get a lot of feedback that I’m smart or clever because Hokey specifically calls out that I am NOT smart or clever.

Also, how does somebody capitalize on the Me Too movement? What am I getting paid for? Because if I was getting paid, I would started me-tooing in college, cause I got some college loans I need to pay off.

Now you’ve moved on to racism, sexism and white supremacy blaming all of them for yourlack of achievement. How convenient. Now you can sit on the couch and read books,lots of books and collect unemployment.

This is a loaded statement, coming from a teacher in Maine. I don’t say this disparagingly but how do you know if you never worked in a corporate environment where those aforementioned societal ills are present? She did say that ‘America is losing its white identity!’ Is she talking about plantations and colonization of other people? I’m not sure if that’s the kind of identity I would want hanging around.

Also, I never thought I had lacked any sort of achievement. In fact, I think I’m quite the opposite, I have a lot of achievement. I have my own apartment, a dog, I got to work at all the television places and I have great friends. That is achievement city. To go from poverty to firm middle class, that is harder than anybody shows on any television program or film.

FACT CHECK: Yes, I will read books. Lots of books! This is probably the most factual sentence in this email. But, I have never collected unemployment in my life (I didn’t even know you could do that!). I don’t think unemployment is the same as severance, so this statement is straight up incorrect.

I think money is your big motivator and since [ex] was tapped out, you were looking for another alternative which you didn’t find. My observation is that you need to BULLY, CONTROL, HELICOPTER, and have a lackey to do your bidding.

Money is a big motivator, yes. It’s not my only motivator though. I don’t know why she’s so obsessed with money since I’m paying for all the vacations and paying my own rent. My ex is the one living with relatives.

FACT CHECK: I don’t know what she’s observing since this woman has refused to meet me. If bully, control and helicoptering means that I like to have my alone time and lots of space, then yes, I guess I do all those things? But, I don’t think that’s what that means. Also, this assumes that my ex is a robot that cannot make decisions or choices about his life. If somebody was bullying, controlling and helicoptering me, I would ghost with a quickness.

[Ex] recently told me that it was an ABUSIVE relationship.

FACT CHECK: Good thing I broke up with him…. a year and a half ago!

Apparently, he’s put that aside. Unbelievable..Hopefully, he’ll do the right thing.

Versus the left thing?

FACT CHECK: This is referring to the fact that I let my ex stay at my apartment for several months due to COVID status. He did a job in NY and his relatives in CT asked for him to stay in NJ. So, I think what this says is that he’s put the abusive relationship (that I eneded) aside to voluntarily stay with me, because he asked me to? Must be those observing glasses previously mentioned.

I see you as self-indulgent, self-absorbed, lazy, and money hungry and oh, an unrealistic dreamer of a pipe dreams not grounded in reality.Chad is NOT your keeper, or your care giver or your sugar daddy. He owes you NOTHING.

These characteristics may all be true but I don’t care! I never forced anybody to like me because it’s too exhausting (laziness). I do buy myself presents and food (self-indulgent). I may have super absorbent underwear (self-absorbed) and money hungry. Hmmm. I do want to be paid my worth in talent and experience…if that’s money hungry, then I’m ready to eat.

FACT CHECK: Ex is too busy being on the road to be any of those things. I WISH he was my sugar daddy! How do I get one of those? But, tis true, he doesn’t owe me anything as well as nothing.

He was on the road to making a new life for himself, cleaning up the mess of the last 10 years until he got suckered back in. Probably lots of crocodile tears, “Woe is me”, “Now I can’t pay my rent” have come into play. Ex to the rescue again. Isn’t this deja-vue from the loss of an apt in Brooklyn? History repeats.

I have NEVER said woe is me. Is that a white people thing? My ex didn’t come to my rescue. Regarding Brooklyn. I had plans to move to Seattle and ex asked me to move in with him. Repeatedly. So, this history is in an alternate universe.

It is never going to change. You will still be a needy, manipulating, parasite.

I would hope that the son she raised would see and dump me if I was a needy, manipulating parasite. Otherwise, isn’t that just bad parenting?

Btw, let’s call a spade a spade. You don’t love ex. You are just using him to do your work and come up with the money.You’ve done your best to alienate him from his family. He chooses to go dark. He’s ashamed and embarrassed by this situation.

I don’t know how telling my ex to call his mom is alienating him. I would prefer that I heard from the person (in this case, the ex) to tell me he’s ashamed and embarrassed. I don’t know, I would be ashamed and embarrassed if my mother sent this to him. Just saying.

He needs to pack up his stuff and get out of that toxic, blood sucking environment. He has a family who cares about him and he has a home and people who love him.

And writes cruel and untrue emails without any facts. Don’t forget about that part.

You are a complete nut case, a metal and emotional mess.

Thanks! I prefer to be aluminum (because how its pronounced in the UK) but any metal will do.

Pack up and go home to Mama if you are still speaking to any of them. Criticism is a bitch, isn’t it?

I guess? If the criticism is true? Is this criticism? Or is this really asking my ex to call you?

Don’t bother to respond to this. Nothing you can say is explanatory. Don’t want to hear it.

Ok! You’re the one I had to block though after you kept emailing.

Never underestimate a mother who sees a dishonest, manipulative situation

I’m surprised took this long to do this, quite actually. No matter, I am still single!

Posted in Categorize Me!, NYU, SDSU, Storytime

My First Roommate..part 1

Posted on by Minimal.Effort
How I imagined my first college roommate would be. DUMB.

1999. I had just gotten accepted at NYU Tisch and was in disbelief that my music video with the ejaculating fish had passed the admissions test. Or maybe it was my scene where I had my friend Randy breaking up with Drew Barrymore. Either way, I would finally move out of my parents house in San Diego and move to New York…I can FINALLY have a roommate.

I had this fantasy of becoming BFFs with my new roommate and it’s something like ‘A Different World’ … where everyone is funny and gets along.

WRONG.

I was assigned the 21st floor of a 26th Street Apartment in the Lower East Side. The fact that a) I had an nyu.edu email and b) I could say something like ‘the Lower East Side’ and actually know what I’m talking about made me feel ultra cool. I had started some preliminary emails with my new roommate. I think her name was Crystal. I had imagined this skinny, goofy blonde girl….maybe with freckles, hopefully with glasses or braces. Maybe she’ll be a popular girl type and will give me one of those Rachel in the ‘She’s All That’ movie where I am magically hot with the proper haircut, makeup and outfits. Maybe she would teach me to how to bring the boys to the yard because no boys knew I had any yards in the first place. All the positive stories I had written in my mind. She said she would bring the microwave and I would bring the….radio? I forget.

After flying across country with one suitcase full of as much of my stuff I could bring with me (my parents didn’t approve of me going to film school, so I pretty much had to do everything myself), I dragged my ass to the Super Shuttle, listened to my discman for 3 hours until I was dropped off to my new dorm, waited 4 elevator trips until I got to my room (there was weirdly 2 elevators for 28 floors. Like, WHAT?) and found my tiny apartment. I open the door. It’s a 600 sq foot apartment for 4 females. I was the second to arrive. I open the door with my name taped on it and see that Crystal had already gotten settled. She had claimed the bottom bunk (we had bunk beds…which incidentally, I was excited about because — roommate fantasy of pillow fights and gossip) and therefore, I had the top bunk bed. She had placed the television in the middle of our dormitory desks (provided by the university. Thanks, cause I got NOTHING) and her clothes was hung in half of the closet. I didn’t even have hangers, so it didn’t matter.

Crystal came home and she was NOTHING like I imagined. She was dressed like a gangster — big shirt, baggy corduory jeans, Adidas sneakers, blonde curly hair that went down her back, super pale with dark eyeliner that seemed to be traced around her eyes multiple times. Her voice was low.

“Hi, I’m your new roommate”

“Hi. My parents already came and moved everything. When are your parents coming?”

“Oh. They’re not…here. They’re in California. I just have this suitcase” and point to a battered old grandma looking suitcase that wanted to be put out to pasture to die with the other old suitcases.

Uncomfortable silence. Uh-oh. The smiles and laughter of my fictitious imaginary sleepover party was vanishing away. I didn’t realize that I might have somebody who had the personality of a tree stump. Only to find, that our time together will get worse.

To be continued…

Posted in Pandemic, Storytime

Anxiety in the time of Corona

Posted on by Minimal.Effort

*Note: I have NOT read the book ‘Love in the time of Cholera’

End of January 2020: I go to work feeling nauseous. I drink water to try to make it go away. I’ve been feeling nauseous lately but it typically goes away later in the day. The nausea doesn’t go away at all. I go to the ‘nurse’s office’ to get checked out. They do some vitals and a pregnancy test. Turns out I’m super dehydrated. They give me bags of electrolytes to drink. We figure, food poisoning. I tell my friend ‘D’ it’s probably because I’m eating a plate of corn..but it’s the only thing I can stomach at the moment. Everything else makes me feel nauseous.

Mid-February 2020: I go back to the nurse’s office. I ask them….so…..how long is food poisoning supposed to last? They ask me how many days I’ve been having symptoms. I laugh and say “Days? It’s been a couple of months. Since at least August.” My PCP is alarmed and starts orderings tests like a mofo. She also recommends that I go see a gastroenterologist. It takes me forever on how to say ‘gastroenterologist’ correctly. I try to be hip and call it ‘gastro’ for short.

Beginning of March 2020: I have 3 blood draws, 4 vials each. More pregnancy tests (they just want to make really really sure). We schedule an endoscopy and a colonoscopy. I joke that they may find a hamburger in there from 1982…but really, I’m anxious of what my diagnosis could be. I was planning on waiting until I had a diagnosis….but it’s been over a month and still nothing. I start telling my inner circle via group text. It’s a mixture of freak outs and support. I wonder if I’m telling too much info or if I’m pulling the friendship parachute cord too quickly. I don’t want to waste anybody’s time and make them worry if it’s really a fast food hamburger …. although, that wouldn’t make sense. I didn’t order hamburgers in the 80s’ because I don’t like pickles. Half of my friends are tv type of people, the other medical (I was pre-med before I switched majors…but still kept in touch with my peeps). Dr. P calls me and goes in ER Doctor mode, peppering me with questions. It feels good to have smart friends.

March 11 2020: So, we’re working from home. I’m still experiencing symptoms. Some days I feel ok and find that I like using my brain (who would’ve thunk) to troubleshoot some problems. I think I really just want to be a detective but this will have to do. I sleep all the time and I still have to go into the city for more doctor appointments. This time, I need to get a CT scan. After the CT scan shows nothing and more blood tests, I’m cleared of cancer (hooray!)…but the non-diagnosis diagnosis still looms. Everyone is worried about coronavirus. I ask my bf to stay with me to help with groceries and my corgi. He lives in CT, but his fam-bam in CT was like, ‘we’re old, stay in NJ.’ I wonder about all the people who don’t have corona virus — those with straight flu, those with cancer, those with broken limbs, broken backs and those with mystery illnesses. I wonder how they are getting by and feel lucky that I can afford instacart and work from home. Also, I got a head start from everyone else because of the nausea case of 2020, so I feel like a pro.

March 23, 2020 — I have an appointment where I eat radiated oatmeal so they can x-ray me while it goes down my gullet. The test is 90 minutes long. The technician gives me a choice….I can either lie down with my arms to my side or I can use my phone and text and scroll, but I need to leave my arms up. I ask for a third option — I can leave my arms down and just play music? They decide to name that option after me because I feel I’m missing reality when I’m staring at my phone….so if I don’t have to look at it, I don’t. A sexy song comes up on the playlist….and that’s using an euphenism. I wonder if the technician is listening to the lyrics, as I start to blush. But, then I remember, I think most people don’t listen to lyrics than me. After like 15 songs or so, I ask how much time has passed. I hope it’s not like 10 minutes, because it feels I’ve been lying there forever. It’s been 45 minutes and my test is done.

I rapidly google what it means if my digestive system is too fast. Everyone wants to respect my privacy but wants me to talk it out. I don’t know the difference between what’s private or public anymore because with all these doctors appointments, I feel like I’m giving very graphic details of my symptoms — because I know that’s what they need — but being very vague with everyone else. I just feel everyone is judging me.

March 24, 2020 — I convince my family in Seattle to play drawful, using the share play option PS4. This is where being somewhat technical comes in handy. We laugh and laugh. I’m impressed that my nieces are kicking the adults asses.

End of March — I start cooking for myself when I’m not feeling nauseous, exhausted or in pain. After some deep thoughts (with Jack Handey) with my inner circle, my boss and other work peeps — we decide that what’s best for me is to completely focus on my health and take a break. My boss says it best “I don’t need you next week, I need you for the long term.” We have a heart to heart for nearly 2 hours. I feel really lucky in such unlucky times.

Beginning of April — Anxiously waiting for blood test results. My doctors are in the city and everyone is afraid I’m going to get corona because I’m immuno-suppressed or immuno-deficient. Something with the word ‘immuno…’ Anyway, my gastro (who is also super awesome) has a telemedicine conference with me and prescribes a lab for me to take in NJ. I’m the first of her patients to get an Rx via teleconfence. Maybe they should name that after me too.

April 3, 2020 — I go to bed early because — nausea. I wake up at 4am because I’m hungry (I had a light dinner) but I’m too lazy to cook. So I write instead about stuff I want to say out loud but can’t. And I update facebook with my 10 most unpopular opinions. I really don’t like coffee. But, I think it’s because I worked in a coffee shop for 3 years.

Posted in Nonsensical, Storytime

The Rat Race

Posted on by Minimal.Effort


“The trouble with being in the rat race is that even if you win, you’re still a rat.” –Lily Tomlin

I’m sort of going through a quarter-life plus 10 years crisis.  A few months ago, I came to the “epiphany” that I was in the wrong career field and doing the wrong job.  I have been having these thoughts for many years now but I was too enticed by the money to have the balls to quit.  One day, after a slew of emails (that I typically respond with a politically correct solution), I just decided I have had it.  Here is a sample of my responses: 

“Dear xxx,Putting your email in all capitals is inappropriate. If you had followed the process that you blatantly ignored, your crisis would not be happening”

“Dear xxx,If you treated your people a little better, maybe they would stop leaving your team”

“Dear xxx,Isn’t is nice that you are blaming me for not doing something, when in essence, it is YOUR job to do in the first place?”

“Dear xxx, Please find a new person to head this project. I have put in my resignation.”

After about a few of those emails, I had talked to my significant other about leaving the business all together.  Bless him, he said “I just want you to be happy. Do it”.  So I put in my resignation and my soul (if souls exist) let out a big sigh.  
However, I still need money, so I am freelancing.  I calculated that if I did 1-2 jobs a month, I should be able to contribute to the household appropriately. I did have to give up some things like expensive shampoos and my once-a-month massage habit but I think it was well-worth it.  So, it’s been about 2 months since I’ve resigned.


Now what?


I decided to take some classes at things I thought I would be good at—a bunch of improv classes and some sketch writing classes. I mean, I like comedy and I like writing. Will they like me back? It’s too early to tell at this point, but my secret fantasy was that I would be so AWESOME and my secret talent would come seeping through my skin that it was a big question mark as to why I never pursued improv and/or sketch writing in the first place.  Alas, that did not happen.  I turned out to be somewhat funny in sketch writing and just okay at improv. (Side note: It didn’t help that one of the improv classes I hated because it felt so “actory” and cliquey and…young!)  I think that is my biggest problem, that I just want to be able to pick up something and become the savant that the world has been waiting for.  However, I think I can be good at improv/sketch if I just kept doing it, so there’s that.


Unfortunately, I feel just like everyone else. Ordinary. A little bit better at some things than other people, a little bit worse (or a lot worse) than other people.  A lot of things I have done, I just plain suck at.  Like, triathalon training? I suck. Singing? I can’t hold a tune. Sign language? I got the alphabet down.  I keep taking these classes in hopes that something will hit me over the head and say “this is what you are meant to do”.
The closest thing I can think of, that I might be good at, is writing.  But, I have such a hard time with coming up with cool ideas, funny premises and interesting stories that I just don’t think I have the ability to pull it off.  


I wrote a bunch of sketches for a class, that thankfully, the class laughed at.  It felt REALLY good when my teacher laughed at it.  But, I still keep thinking–what can I do with this? Where can I go with this? Is it too crazy for me to pursue this?  The thought that kills me is What if I’m not really that good and I’m just trying to convince myself otherwise?Right now, I’m feeling like the main character in a book called “A Spell for Chameleon”.  In the book,  at a certain age, everyone in the land of Xanth has a special power.  Bink (I think that was his name, I read this in high school) just didn’t seem to have one and for years, they thought of him as this talentless being.  He was even thinking “Oh god, if I could just make something from yellow to green, at least that would be SOMETHING”. Anyway, it turns out in the book that he is actually a powerful magician and his talent is that he cannot be harmed by magic (which is concealed by making it look like he escapes danger by luck or coincidence).  Long story short, it took forever for Bink to figure it out because his talent was concealing itself in order to make him less vulnerable to non-magic attacks.  But, what comes to mind to me is that, in all those years he thought he didn’t have a talent, it must’ve been kind of lame being Bink.


I’m hoping that’s my problem. I just can’t see what I’m good at and it’ll reveal itself at some point in time.  If I find out, I’m just average at everything then…it’s just really going to suck to be me.

Posted in NYU, Storytime

Write or not to write, which is the right question? (cheesy mode)

Posted on by Minimal.Effort

When I originally applied to film school, I thought “I’m going to be a music video director!” I love music and I love music videos.  Often times, I see a music video and I’d think “Oh, Ben Folds, you should’ve hired me, I could’ve done much better”. I also hate those b-roll music videos…where they show the band preparing for a concert, where they’re throwing peace signs at the camera, or joking around and signing autographs.  Basically, it’s a video to show “how cool we are”. I wanted to change that because I thought that was LAZY music video-ing.



So, I show up to film school and find out, maybe I’m not cut out for music video making but rather comedy writing.  I would make these short films (based on my fear and terror of being in New York City and by myself with no friends) that would accentuate my experiences of being an Pacific-Islander girl not knowing how to cross the street in NYC or finding strange things in my food.  Apparently, these films actually evoked laughter from my audience.  I tried to do a dramatic one about a break-up and I just got confused looks.  So I went back to comedy and did a short about NSYNC solving the Monkey Master Mystery and of course, that was voted in the student film festival.



I took a writing course (we all had to take writing. Believe me, some of the cinematographers needed it.  There was this one French guy who shot amazing things but I had no idea what was going on.  As part of his assessment, I said “I don’t understand the story..what was…is there something going on?” and he replied with “But it is beautiful, no??” Well, yeah but we don’t care for vapid beautiful work (unless you’re in LA.)) Anyway, I took this writing comedy writing course and I just excelled at it.  I don’t know why I did, I don’t think I’m truly inherently funny but rather, I appreciate humor and tend to add on top of that.  But whatever, I’ll take it!



So, our final project was to write a spec script.  I wrote a South Park script where Cartman’s babysitter  turned out to be Vanilla Ice’s half-sister/ex-girlfriend.  Vanilla Ice came back to South Park to win her back and challenged Cartman to a duel via Dance Dance Revolution.  Well, apparently, this script KILLED in the read-through and I thought….maybe I can do this. Maybe?



My professor took me aside and said that I should really pursue comedy writing and that I had a talent for it. Really?  She said I should start shopping scripts and writing sketches and maybe try stand up comedy (um, NO way).  She thought of my humor as “Woody Allen”-esque.  Sort of self deprecating and witty.  So I took this advice and…..



did nothing.



I didn’t write a damn thing.  I left school, got a corporate job for good money and health insurance and there you go.  A few years later, got myself a boyfriend, got my own place, got doggies I really wanted, got the car I really wanted, got a comfy salary.  I’m thinking, this should be enough, right? This is enough to be happy for the rest of my life.



But every now and then, I think about writing.  I’d like to write a script.  Maybe a short story. Maybe a short film. But I never do it. I talk about it and never do it.  I think my problem is that I find writing to be self-indulgent. I mean, for god sakes, I’m writing a blog about ME. My writing now is mememememmemememe. I just feel uncomfortable about writing anything that reveals how vulnerable and lame and uncool I really am.



So I’m trying to find hobbies to fulfill this somewhat vague desire to write.  I joined trivia night. I tried a running club.  I trained for a triathalon.  I travel extensively.  I took dog classes (I am terrible at Agility).  And yet, I still think about writing.  I think its because I really want to write drama but secretly know I should write comedy.  Also, I think comedy takes a lot out of me.  I have to be hyper-aware of social cues, social commentary and exposing the stuff we don’t really want to talk about but is hilarious when we release it to the audience to laugh about.



Anyway, anybody who knows me, knows I’ve been thinking about it and then declining to do anything about it.



The reason I write this blog entry is because the writing urges are becoming more and more apparent.  So I decided to sign up for a comedy writing class at The Groundlings or Upright Citizens Brigade.  I may have lost my humor but I might as well find out, right?  If anything, I’ll get to write for a few weeks and maybe I’ll be all written out that I can finally close this chapter and say “Yes, this is enough.”

Posted in Storytime

Why is the bunny trying to kill itself?

Posted on by Minimal.Effort
No problem. I’m a slow ass.

So my schedule is pretty jam packed. I get up typically at 6am because I either have chiropractor appointment, a nutritionist appointment, a haircut, a car appointment, I try to take my dog to day care sometimes or a swim class. Sometimes I have to go to work early for a shoot. Yesterday, I slept in (with the intention of going to spin class or a bike ride) to sweet sweet time of 8am…and thought, I’ll just do biking after work, the days are lasting longer. I get out of work and get home around 645pm. Sun is still out. Take out the dogs and then sit on my butt for like 15 minutes to not think about anything for 15 minutes…because I like to do that sometimes.

I dressed up in my biking gear and propped my bike on my bike rack. Then I went back home and sat on my butt again thinking about nothing again. Finally, at 730pm, decided to go on my bike ride (I did all those preemptive things so I wouldn’t talk myself out of the bike ride). 40 minute bike ride is scheduled. I did a 120 minute bike ride on Saturday and my @ss was still hurting from that ride so I was like ‘greeeeeaaat”.

Do you get a great butt from biking even though you’re just sitting the entire time? I hope so. Anyway, it was getting dark and I had taken off the blinking lights off my bike (I had all this commuter stuff on my bike and my training mentor was like “take all that crap off. It’s weighing you down”) and now I can’t see a damn thing. As I was riding (the W&OD trail for peeps who are curious), this deer bounds out! And then 3 more deer bound out. The first thing I thought was LYME DISEASE! AHHH. Then I thought, good thing I didn’t die and run them over…am I supposed to speed up or is that just in a car?

But, as I pass the crossing where the deer where bounding out, there was like 80 of them there! Whaaaat. I continue riding, getting darker still and it starts to sprinkle. Well, great. Then bugs start hitting my face (turns out, we were in the beginning stages of a thunderstorm) then as I’m starting to gain speed, this RABBIT bounds out last minute. I mean, dude, couldn’t you bound out like 5 minutes before? Must you wait for me till I’m about 2 seconds from hitting you? I turn around (as I hit my 20 minute mark) and the same damn bunny bounds out AGAIN and runs back to the side it originated from. Dude. I finish my bike ride without roadkill and without eating a bug. I cross off my workout from my calendar. Success.

Only 5 more weeks to go.

Posted in Nonsensical, Storytime

How I ended up doing a triathalon

Posted on by Minimal.Effort

Before I can write about how I got involved with doing the triathalon with Team in Training, I have to mention how I got involved with Team in Training in the first place. I joined my very first event with TNT in 2010. Jen, my childhood girlfriend (since the 5th grade) had never been to DC and we were planning a roadtrip in mid-April 2010. In late March, I got a mysterious message from her that she couldn’t make it because she was “sick”. I thought that was unusual to back out because of illness; I mean would you let a cold lead you to cancel your flight?

Two days later, she wrote to me (she was too scared to call me because she said she would burst into tears) and said that she was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. She was somewhat positive because there was a 95% chance of survival. I, of course, freaked out and said “What about the other 5%?!?!” Feeling helpless, I checked the mail and received a flyer to join a team for the Lymphoma and Leukemia Society. I hemmed and hawed at it until I had dinner the next night. I met with friends for dinner and one of them, Julie, and I, got along extremely well. She ended up driving me home that night and she started talking to me about her daughter, Ryan Marie. Ryan Marie had passed away from Leukemia when she was 3 years old. This year, she would’ve been 8 years old. So I went to the info session, had my fears qualmed by a woman named Dania, and thought it was extremely coincidental that I would know one person who was diagnosed with Lymphoma and another who passed away from Leukemia. So I signed up. Subsequently, I did two more events with the marathon team and would always look at the triathalon team and think, “there is NO way I’m doing a triathalon”…until last year. My cousin sends me a message last April, telling me that she had just been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. What are the chances that I would know 3 people with a blood cancer? Anyway, she was terrified of going to chemo and I don’t know what happened, but I started saying that I would do something, in honor of her, that terrified me. So of course, silly me, I said I would do a triathalon. I would do an event for each of my honored teammates and indirectly go through a scary journey (not comparable to cancer but its something, right?) “with them”. Let me tell you, I wanted to give up the first week we started. The first time I swam at the rec center, I couldn’t make it to the other end of the pool. (Apparently, dog paddling doesn’t count). My first bike ride, I was out of breath after 15 minutes. I have the sad commuter bike that I bike with my running shoes…I’m too intimidated to get those crazy clip in shoes. It took me 45 minutes to figure out how to use my bike rack. I have a sensitivity to chlorine. I was tired all time and regretting not having a social life anymore. But the reason I didn’t give up was always different. One week, when I’m feeling down, Julie would facebook me. Another week, Jender (5th grade friend) would call me to visit. My cousin’s sister (also my cousin) would send me a donation. I would swim 500 meters. I would do my first brick. My mentor Ali would talk me out of it. I would read a touching story from our Mission Mentor (those emails really work for somebody like me, who always wants to give up) and each thing would come at a time where I was ready to send TNT an email that I wanted to quit. I mean, isn’t raising money enough? Well, now its too late. I gave up Diet Coke. I gave up alcohol. I gave up fried food. (until the triathalon anyway). I’ve lost almost 30 pounds since January, I can bike 100 minutes and then run for 20 minutes afterward. I swam a mile for the first time ever today. I ran a half marathon 2 weeks ago and improved my time by 15 minutes. I can kick my boyfriend’s ass on the bike and on a run, even though his legs are twice as long as mine. (He can’t even keep up anymore!) So anyway, I am hardly an athlete and I’m still overweight but I feel if I could finish this damned race, I can do almost anything. I feel I should write a better ending to this post, but I can’t think of anything cool. Blargh. How about: well, if you want to support me, please donate to my cause. I am almost 80% there! http://pages.teamintraining.org/nca/anttry12/smayof

In honor of Ryan Marie

Posted in Storytime

Triathalon Jitters

Posted on by Minimal.Effort
I’m the one hanging on to the boat.

So….I’m training for a triathalon.  Sort of.

To be honest, there’s a part of me that wants to drop out because I haven’t been following the schedule the past two weeks.  I’ve done most of the running (above and beyond what the schedule calls for because I was training for my half marathon that I finished this past Sunday).  I have not ridden my bike ONCE and I’ve been to swim practice twice.

However, I will say it’s not because I’m at home, sitting on my ass thinking about not going to triathalon training. I drove up to Boston to get to a wedding (because my boyfriend and I couldn’t bear not to see our friends get married…especially since this is one of the few weddings that he isn’t the “plus 1” since we both know the couple) and then haul ass and drive 7 hours to Annapolis for my 7am start time for the Zooma race.  So the week leading up to that (which I DID go to swim practice) and the few days after that weekend (today), I am just exhausted.

So now that I’ve missed the first two weeks, I wonder if I should drop out.  Here is my list of Pros and Cons:

Pros to stay with Triathalon Training:
–I have the running bit down.  A 10k just seems so much relaxing than a half marathon
–I have already raised more than half of my fundraising minimum in the first week of triathalon training
–I have 3 honored teammates that I said I would do this in honor of them
–Hopefully, I can lose some weight
–Chad said he might train with me (and do an October sprint tri with me in Gettysburg)

Cons to stay with Triathalon Training (and give up)
–Dude, it is freaking HOT/HAWT out here
–I have yet to ride my bike
–I haven’t been consistently doing my training per training sheet like I should be
–I don’t have a car yet, so getting to practices is costing me a fortune
–It’s early enough that I can drop out and not feel like I wasted time….
–I am the worst swimmer on the team

So basically, now that I’m looking at my list, mostly me freaking out about not being able to practice enough.  I have 94 days left.  Is there enough time to get in triathalon shape? September 11 doesn’t seem very far away, to be honest.

Posted in Friendship, Storytime

yeah, that needy friend?

Posted on by Minimal.Effort

the one i’ve been talking about in my previous entries? Yeah, she’s going to be in the wedding in california that i’m going to.

FUCK.

I’ve only had one needy friend in my life, the one i’ve been referencing in the previous entries and when i moved out here, she said she had been thinking to moving to boston as well.

FUCK.

man, will you leave me alone?

the thing with her, we’ll call her, um, Bobohead. the thing with Bobohead, is that she’ll want to be your best friend and she’ll shower you with attention and say you’re her best friend and take you out and treat you well…..and you think, “wow, this is normal, this is nice.” and then BAM! she’ll fucking need you at all times and you barely have time to breathe.

have you had a friend call you 18 times a day? I have.

have you had a friend you talks about herself all the time and then when you say anything, she disregards its importance and/or ignores that you actually have a life outside of her.

There’s a joke between me and another friend who has felt this girl’s wrath. We call ourselves POWs and how we survived. oh, the joke. The joke is that she had fucked me up so badly that i had to move across to country in order to not feel the sting nor feel suffocated.

she also has this thing where she wants to be my best friend but she’s constantly competing me to one-up me…and she’s constantly trying to go after the guys I’m going after. I mean, who does that?! I got into NYU, she JUST got into USC. She was telling a friend of mine “Hey, Does sharon know I got into USC?” i.e. “Make sure Sharon knows I got into a school and now i’m better than her.” or whatever. I’m sorry people, this psychosis goes deeper than you can imagine. I had to deal with this person for nearly 6 years. that a lot of years.

and don’t get me wrong, it took a long time to finally to say “Fuck it. you are unhealthy for me and you need to deal with yourself” and let them go…but i had to save myself.

and you know what? best thing i ever did. now i have friends who are pretty awesome.

example:

GOOD: when i was over with my interview and/or I have something important coming up, my roommate/friend Lisa called me from her boyfriend’s place to ask me how the interview went or she’ll email me to ask me how i’m feeling about a situation. She is genuinely interested in what is going on.

BAD: when i had an interview, bobohead called me to see how the interview went for like 2 seconds and then bitched to me for 45 minutes about how a guy looked in her direction in the dark, during a movie, so hence, he must be in love with her.

GOOD: My roommate/friend John will pick me up at the airport at weird hours and ask me about my trip and i’ll ask him how everythign went when i was gone.

BAD: Bobohead has a habit of picking people up and then when they leave or she drops them off, she talks about them about their back or about how she fulfilled her “obligation” and that she should get payback.

Dude, there’s more but i will stop. i am just NOT looking forward to the one frienemy i’ve had in my life. I mean, I want that shit to be done with. but I love my friend Gina and will do anything for her, even put up with bobohead.

Dude, friendships are about give and take/ love and care/ concern and sometimes misunderstandings or frustration. Friendships are not about competition or making someone feel left out on purpose, nor making sure you are better than the other nor being at your beck and call at all hours of the day. Friendship is not turning all the friends you have left against you. AND NO MATTER WHAT, DOING THAT HURTS DUDE.

Friebdship is not having unreasonable expectations that you will ultimately fail.

I thank you, dear friends who read this, for being my friend.

and I thank bobohead for showing me what is NOT friendship and the warning signs of what a terrible friend i like. That is probably the best positive about that friendship.

I didn’t like her stealing all my friends and making them turn against me. Sorry, I said it again, but it still hurts sometimes.

and everytime i look at her, i’m reminded of that.

Posted in NYU, San Diego, Storytime

The Thora Birch mentality

Posted on by Minimal.Effort

I once was in an actor’s class in college. These classes were mandatory in order for us to graduate. Since we were all aspiring filmmakers, acting was a pertinent part of composing a film. The mentality was “How are you going to tell actors what to do and how to feel if you do not know the process they go through?” In retrospect, I recall how difficult it was to go in front of a class to do a scene. It was unbelievably scary to go up in front of a class (especially dramatic scenes) and portray a character with intense emotions. When I went up, (I did a scene from Grosse Pointe Blank where the female lead finds out her boyfriend is a hitman) and I had to bring intense emotions to the forefront and relive how it felt to be hurt, disappointed, crushed, upset and angry all at the same time. Needless to say, I have felt those emotions concurrently and I did not want to do it because I just felt so naked in front of all these people who believed me to be a happy-go-lucky and overall complacent person in public. I suppose it was because it was voluntarily exposing a very private part of myself that I’m not necessarily ashamed to show but am just accustomed to keeping it behind closed doors ( a closeted ’emotionalist’ I suppose).

I also had to do this other part in American Beauty where I played the daughter. I recall it being the scene where her father (kevin spacey) and her mother were having asparagus and he gets so angry he throws the asparagus against the wall. I just remember being so angry (the appropriate emotion for the part)

Why do I bring this up? For some odd reason I’ve been feeling very angry. Not anything particular. I suppose the tumultousnous of being a twenty-something. The observations of society that annoy me. The feeling that I don’t “feel alive” unless I feel pain and the feeling that I am not my own person but a cumulination of various experiences and pop culture references. I don’t feel the need to lash out anything specific and I assure you having uncertainty in your life makes it much more interesting. However, uncertainty can be the bane of my existence and lead me to believe that settling for security and complacency is the overall answer. I don’t know. I’m rambling. I’m just angry at everything and nothing.

But, don’t take this as if I’m not able to function in social gatherings or the work environment. Not so. It just sort of amusing to me to feel so angry and be able to smile and conversate with anyone or anything. Such a bizarre dichotomy existing within me.

But, as Wilbur pointed out, I could just be sexually frustrated. Eh. Whatever. Sex is way overrated. (I say this now and I guarantee you I will change my opinion soon enough)

I think I’ll numb my thoughts out with Road Rules versus the Real World.

Farewell, cruel world.