Life is catching up with me. I've run as fast as I can for as long as I can, but dammit if life isn't a stronger finisher in this race. The reality is that I'm 30, married, working at something that I feel made to do, surrounded by love, and yet for some reason…not satisfied.
That's the word I realized. Satisfied. It's not that I'm not happy. I am. It's just that none of this seems to be enough for me. That's why I keep pouring myself into more and more of anything that I can do. Are they distractions or opportunities? I don’t know anymore.
I write and advertise for programs that I don't watch and demographics that I am not a part of. I take money for jobs that seem small and feel guilty that I'm ripping off my employers. I work my ass of for jobs that I believe in and sometimes it crushes me when inferior work gets chosen and sometimes it elates me when I actually accomplish something through hard work and not just the ability to be good enough.
It feels like I've simply been good enough for most of the time, lately at least. This doesn't mean that my work is defined by mediocrity, simply that sometimes I feel like I sleepwalk through the creative process rather than transcend it.
I want more than anything to be the kind of guy that transcends. Right now, I can be honest with myself. I am not.
I sleep enough these days, but I'm never rested. I don't have nightmares. Nor are my dreams that intense or crazy. They are simply busy. Even in my sleep I feel like I'm punching the clock. Just like waking hours spent this way drain your body, sleep like this seems to drain your soul.
Another birthday approaches and I don’t feel old because of a number attached to my body. I feel old because I still remember everything that came before like it was yesterday. I remember it that way because nothing has really changed.
I'm six years old and my book is the boogeyman. I believe in it and so it frightens me.
I'm thirteen years old and I feel so alone, as if no one understands me, and as if I could simply disappear and nobody would miss me.
I'm eighteen years old and I'm being told to figure out who I am and what I want to be. And I still don't know.
I'm twenty four and every once in a while when I walk to work in the morning, I realize just how many people live in New York, and just how tall the buildings are. And it makes me feel invisible.
I'm thirty years old and I fight the boogeyman, feeling so alone, unaware of how to accomplish what I want or even what it is I want because, really, how can you find meaning in your life when you can't even find your reflection in the mirror.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
30 Lessons Learned by 30 (Revisited)
In honor of having just turned 31, I am going to repost something I wrote down last year upon turning 30.
I've thought long and hard about the important lessons that I've learned, and written them down for posterity's sake. Now that I'm in the know, I figure the next 30 years will go much smoother...
1. There are only 2 things worth fighting for in life: Love and the last Reece's Peanut Butter Cup.
2. A Philosopher once said that 'You never truly say good-bye, to which I would add, 'Until everyone has gone to the bathroom.'
3. Laughter is the best medicine, but Nyquil is right up there.
4. If I had to identify, in one word, the reason why I have not yet achieved, and never will achieve, my full potential, that word would be "Television."
5. Swing sets do not lose their purpose and meaning once your feet can touch the ground.
6. Hot sauce goes with everything.
7. Silence does not need to be filled.
8. Just because she's in the bar doesn't make her legal.
9. The only thing that hurts worse than getting hit by a bottle rocket is getting hit by 40 of them.
10. Do not invite your ex-girlfriend to a party you banned your girlfriend from.
11. 60 minutes of football takes 3 and a ½ hours, a 60-minute network television drama is only 42 minutes minus commercials, and 60 minutes of therapy takes 50 minutes. Moral of the story? Time is relative.
12. The only Presidents that I've ever known, trusted, or believed in have been written for film and television.
13. Never underestimate the power of a comfortable chair.
14. Love does seem to be blind, but I've noticed that lust has excellent vision.
15. The optimist says, "My cup runneth over, what a blessing." The pessimist says, "My cup runneth over, what a tragedy,' and in my family we say, 'My cup runneth over, what a mess.'
16. Don't play Soul Calibur with the person you are about to go to bed with.
17. There are several sacred things in life (ex. love, family, friendship), but none rest above another man's fries.
18. Morning people are annyoing.
19. There is a lot to be said for coloring outside of the lines.
20. Women stop wearing a matching underwear and bra after you've been dating a few months.
21. Super Mario Brothers moves from left to right, the Torah moves from right to left, and when I dance sober movement has no rhyme or reason.
22. The fine line in fantasy sports between hobby and obsession lies somewhere around knowing who Scott Posednik is.
23. When I was 10, Must See Thursday was Cosby, Family Ties, Cheers, Night Court, and LA Law. When I was 20, it was Friends, The Single Guy, Seinfeld, Fraiser, and ER. As I turn 30, it is Will & Grace, Four Kings, My Name is Earl, The Office, and ER. My point? I've aged much more gracefully than some.
24. The quickest way to a free Slurpee at 7-11 is to tell the guy behind the counter that you just lost your virginity.
25. The ocean has no memory and yet it is romantic, I forget one anniversary and I'm up a creek without a paddle.
26. There are, in fact, stupid questions.
27. 30 years old and the one dream that I still wake up with a smile from is the one where I win the Toys R Us All You Can Grab Sweepstakes.
28. The only person who truly can understand what it means to grow up in a Jewish family with three older sisters and have several ex-girlfriends become lesbians is the one who coined the phrase, self-deprecation.
29. You can, in fact, change history. Just write a Memoir.
30. The greatest piece of advice I ever received was, 'Cheer Up, Things can Always Get Worse.'
---
It's wonderful that VH1 can turn this traumatic life experience into a sitcom. And here I thought their greatest achievement was going to be bringing Flava Flav back into the limelight.
Variety
I've thought long and hard about the important lessons that I've learned, and written them down for posterity's sake. Now that I'm in the know, I figure the next 30 years will go much smoother...
1. There are only 2 things worth fighting for in life: Love and the last Reece's Peanut Butter Cup.
2. A Philosopher once said that 'You never truly say good-bye, to which I would add, 'Until everyone has gone to the bathroom.'
3. Laughter is the best medicine, but Nyquil is right up there.
4. If I had to identify, in one word, the reason why I have not yet achieved, and never will achieve, my full potential, that word would be "Television."
5. Swing sets do not lose their purpose and meaning once your feet can touch the ground.
6. Hot sauce goes with everything.
7. Silence does not need to be filled.
8. Just because she's in the bar doesn't make her legal.
9. The only thing that hurts worse than getting hit by a bottle rocket is getting hit by 40 of them.
10. Do not invite your ex-girlfriend to a party you banned your girlfriend from.
11. 60 minutes of football takes 3 and a ½ hours, a 60-minute network television drama is only 42 minutes minus commercials, and 60 minutes of therapy takes 50 minutes. Moral of the story? Time is relative.
12. The only Presidents that I've ever known, trusted, or believed in have been written for film and television.
13. Never underestimate the power of a comfortable chair.
14. Love does seem to be blind, but I've noticed that lust has excellent vision.
15. The optimist says, "My cup runneth over, what a blessing." The pessimist says, "My cup runneth over, what a tragedy,' and in my family we say, 'My cup runneth over, what a mess.'
16. Don't play Soul Calibur with the person you are about to go to bed with.
17. There are several sacred things in life (ex. love, family, friendship), but none rest above another man's fries.
18. Morning people are annyoing.
19. There is a lot to be said for coloring outside of the lines.
20. Women stop wearing a matching underwear and bra after you've been dating a few months.
21. Super Mario Brothers moves from left to right, the Torah moves from right to left, and when I dance sober movement has no rhyme or reason.
22. The fine line in fantasy sports between hobby and obsession lies somewhere around knowing who Scott Posednik is.
23. When I was 10, Must See Thursday was Cosby, Family Ties, Cheers, Night Court, and LA Law. When I was 20, it was Friends, The Single Guy, Seinfeld, Fraiser, and ER. As I turn 30, it is Will & Grace, Four Kings, My Name is Earl, The Office, and ER. My point? I've aged much more gracefully than some.
24. The quickest way to a free Slurpee at 7-11 is to tell the guy behind the counter that you just lost your virginity.
25. The ocean has no memory and yet it is romantic, I forget one anniversary and I'm up a creek without a paddle.
26. There are, in fact, stupid questions.
27. 30 years old and the one dream that I still wake up with a smile from is the one where I win the Toys R Us All You Can Grab Sweepstakes.
28. The only person who truly can understand what it means to grow up in a Jewish family with three older sisters and have several ex-girlfriends become lesbians is the one who coined the phrase, self-deprecation.
29. You can, in fact, change history. Just write a Memoir.
30. The greatest piece of advice I ever received was, 'Cheer Up, Things can Always Get Worse.'
---
It's wonderful that VH1 can turn this traumatic life experience into a sitcom. And here I thought their greatest achievement was going to be bringing Flava Flav back into the limelight.
Variety
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
An Inner Monologue
I've decided to write about the question that you've all asked me. Ok, maybe none of you asked me this, but I know you are wondering and are simply to lazy to take the time and share your question with me. Or ask me how my trip was. Or tell me what's new in your life. I get it, I'm not that important to you anymore. You've moved on. I'll get over it one day, until you call, and I light up and hate myself for letting you back in. Damn you all for toying with my emotions. But ANYWAYS...there was a question many have had for me.
Where did your title come from?
Funny you should (not) ask me that question. Here's what happened. It all occured during a conversation I had with myself. Conversation with yourself you say? Why yes, I do talk to myself, finding that I am quite an excellent conversationalist becuase not only do I never cut myself off, but I really get me. And that's a special thing that is worth holding onto in a friend.
So anyways, here is how the conversion between me and myself went. To avoid confusion we will refer to me as Rob and myself as Hamed. Please do not read anything into this dual personality, as myself is not Muslim (not that there's anything wrong with that), simply that myself is open to the differences between cultures and feels that Hamed (while not a name I plan to use for my children) is an excellent and proper way to address the sensitivity and maturity that me (Rob) lacks.
R-So what should I name this book?
H-Isn't it a bit premature to title the book before it's finished? Like putting that manueur before the horse?
R-It's cart before the horse.
H-What?
R-The phrase is cart before the horse.
H-Oh.
R- And thank you for referring to my book as shit.
H-Actually if what you say is true, then it was your title that I was saying was shit.
R-True, but I don't have a title.
H-I thought that's what we were doing here.
R-Doesn't look that way right now, does it?
H- True, how about naming it Robert's Story.
R- Not sure it would sell. My name doesn't really mean much yet.
H- I bet a lot of Robert's would buy it.
R- Maybe, but I feel like I would be closing it off to a whole market of Jasons, Tims, Marys, and Gertudes.
H- Perhaps, what about naming it the Beatles' Story.
R- That definitely would appeal to a lot more people I suppose.
H- Millions I would assume.
R- You are definitely right. Unfortunately, since the story is not about the Beatles, its sort of misleading. A lot of people might buy it and be turned off immediately when they notice its not about the Beatles. Plus, I want to make sure the book is classified properly and not placed in the music section near any Neil Diamond books. For obvious reasons.
H- Hadn't thought about that.
R- No, you usually avoid that issue. I'm the only one who obsesses about it.
H - You know you really need to get past that. People will always play Sweet Caroline when they get drunk. It's a fact of life.
R- I know, I know. I don't have to like it though.
H- How about something that begins with an A, so it gets placed first alphabetically?
R- Like Answers for Questions I Once Asked?
H- That's a great title to describe the book, but actually I was thinking like AA or AAA, so its way at the front.
R- Oh I see.
H- Well?
R- Sort of the same problem. AA is alcoholics anonymous and while there is a lot of drinking in the story, I don't want people to get the wrong impression. And AAA is an emergency roadside service. If people bought the book expecting travel tips I imagine they would also be sorely disappointed.
H- You are very particualr about this title you know?
R - Well its important to me.
H- I think you are obsessing again. And its not healthy.
R- Again? When was I obsessing recently?
H- Is there another person in the room right now?
R- No.
H- Are you talking to yourself again?
R- Yes.
H- I rest my case.
R- Ok, fine.
H- How about Untitled?
R- Interesting. So you mean to make a parallel between how this story tells the tale of a person whose life only begins with sadness and whose story has yet to be written.
H- Um, yeah. Sure.
R- Was that not what you were going for? Did you mean something else?
H- Sort of.
R- Well what did you mean?
H- That your book wasn't titled yet.
R- Oh.
H- But your thing works too.
R- Nah, not anymore it doesn't.
H- Sorry.
R- I need you to take this seriously and give me real, honest titles.
H- Ok, I can do that.
R- Really?
H- Absolutely. How about Even the North Star Changes?
R- Nah, too pretentious.
H- A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius?
R- Been used before.
H- Bros before hos?
R- Too alienating.
H- Brothers before Women Who Come Between Them?
R- Too condescending.
H- Cunning Lingusits?
R- No, Hamed.
H- Caution: Things May Be Closer Than They Appear?
R- What?
H- No, You Hang Up. No You Hang Up?
R- Sweet Jesus.
H- The Truth Ends in Masturbation
R- No.
H- Vegetarians don't like Lambskin?
R- No.
H- A Big Glass of Calm the Fuck Down?
R- No.
H- Harshing My Mellow?
R- No. No. No.
H- What?
R- None of this is good. None of this gets across the humor of the sadness. The irony of the endless loop. The absurdity of all the situations.
H- Don't worry, we'll find something.
R- Will we?
H- Sure we will. I mean, it's a title, not a cure for cancer. Besides you have bigger thinsg to worry about these days. I mean you really need to get on the ball interms of finding a house. Then there's the fact that your freelancing is hardly a long term solution. Plus, Kate's not gonna wait forever for kids you know.
R- Gee thanks. I feel so much better now.
H- All I'm saying is cheer up, things could always get worse.
R- What did you say?
H- What about the kids thing? I mean you've been married a while, i assume the kids thing...
R- No, the cheer up thing.
H- Oh, I was just saying to cheer up, that things could always get worse.
R- That's it.
H- That's what.
R- My title. Cheer Up, Things Could Always Get Worse.
H- Oh, cool. So we're done yeah? Can we go watch Fight Club again?
---
Sure this isn't about naming a book, but naming is naming, right? And writing a book is sort of like giving birth in a way...you know with mental anguish taking the place of a something the size of a watermellon being pushed out something the size of an egg.
The Ox Bellows
Where did your title come from?
Funny you should (not) ask me that question. Here's what happened. It all occured during a conversation I had with myself. Conversation with yourself you say? Why yes, I do talk to myself, finding that I am quite an excellent conversationalist becuase not only do I never cut myself off, but I really get me. And that's a special thing that is worth holding onto in a friend.
So anyways, here is how the conversion between me and myself went. To avoid confusion we will refer to me as Rob and myself as Hamed. Please do not read anything into this dual personality, as myself is not Muslim (not that there's anything wrong with that), simply that myself is open to the differences between cultures and feels that Hamed (while not a name I plan to use for my children) is an excellent and proper way to address the sensitivity and maturity that me (Rob) lacks.
R-So what should I name this book?
H-Isn't it a bit premature to title the book before it's finished? Like putting that manueur before the horse?
R-It's cart before the horse.
H-What?
R-The phrase is cart before the horse.
H-Oh.
R- And thank you for referring to my book as shit.
H-Actually if what you say is true, then it was your title that I was saying was shit.
R-True, but I don't have a title.
H-I thought that's what we were doing here.
R-Doesn't look that way right now, does it?
H- True, how about naming it Robert's Story.
R- Not sure it would sell. My name doesn't really mean much yet.
H- I bet a lot of Robert's would buy it.
R- Maybe, but I feel like I would be closing it off to a whole market of Jasons, Tims, Marys, and Gertudes.
H- Perhaps, what about naming it the Beatles' Story.
R- That definitely would appeal to a lot more people I suppose.
H- Millions I would assume.
R- You are definitely right. Unfortunately, since the story is not about the Beatles, its sort of misleading. A lot of people might buy it and be turned off immediately when they notice its not about the Beatles. Plus, I want to make sure the book is classified properly and not placed in the music section near any Neil Diamond books. For obvious reasons.
H- Hadn't thought about that.
R- No, you usually avoid that issue. I'm the only one who obsesses about it.
H - You know you really need to get past that. People will always play Sweet Caroline when they get drunk. It's a fact of life.
R- I know, I know. I don't have to like it though.
H- How about something that begins with an A, so it gets placed first alphabetically?
R- Like Answers for Questions I Once Asked?
H- That's a great title to describe the book, but actually I was thinking like AA or AAA, so its way at the front.
R- Oh I see.
H- Well?
R- Sort of the same problem. AA is alcoholics anonymous and while there is a lot of drinking in the story, I don't want people to get the wrong impression. And AAA is an emergency roadside service. If people bought the book expecting travel tips I imagine they would also be sorely disappointed.
H- You are very particualr about this title you know?
R - Well its important to me.
H- I think you are obsessing again. And its not healthy.
R- Again? When was I obsessing recently?
H- Is there another person in the room right now?
R- No.
H- Are you talking to yourself again?
R- Yes.
H- I rest my case.
R- Ok, fine.
H- How about Untitled?
R- Interesting. So you mean to make a parallel between how this story tells the tale of a person whose life only begins with sadness and whose story has yet to be written.
H- Um, yeah. Sure.
R- Was that not what you were going for? Did you mean something else?
H- Sort of.
R- Well what did you mean?
H- That your book wasn't titled yet.
R- Oh.
H- But your thing works too.
R- Nah, not anymore it doesn't.
H- Sorry.
R- I need you to take this seriously and give me real, honest titles.
H- Ok, I can do that.
R- Really?
H- Absolutely. How about Even the North Star Changes?
R- Nah, too pretentious.
H- A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius?
R- Been used before.
H- Bros before hos?
R- Too alienating.
H- Brothers before Women Who Come Between Them?
R- Too condescending.
H- Cunning Lingusits?
R- No, Hamed.
H- Caution: Things May Be Closer Than They Appear?
R- What?
H- No, You Hang Up. No You Hang Up?
R- Sweet Jesus.
H- The Truth Ends in Masturbation
R- No.
H- Vegetarians don't like Lambskin?
R- No.
H- A Big Glass of Calm the Fuck Down?
R- No.
H- Harshing My Mellow?
R- No. No. No.
H- What?
R- None of this is good. None of this gets across the humor of the sadness. The irony of the endless loop. The absurdity of all the situations.
H- Don't worry, we'll find something.
R- Will we?
H- Sure we will. I mean, it's a title, not a cure for cancer. Besides you have bigger thinsg to worry about these days. I mean you really need to get on the ball interms of finding a house. Then there's the fact that your freelancing is hardly a long term solution. Plus, Kate's not gonna wait forever for kids you know.
R- Gee thanks. I feel so much better now.
H- All I'm saying is cheer up, things could always get worse.
R- What did you say?
H- What about the kids thing? I mean you've been married a while, i assume the kids thing...
R- No, the cheer up thing.
H- Oh, I was just saying to cheer up, that things could always get worse.
R- That's it.
H- That's what.
R- My title. Cheer Up, Things Could Always Get Worse.
H- Oh, cool. So we're done yeah? Can we go watch Fight Club again?
---
Sure this isn't about naming a book, but naming is naming, right? And writing a book is sort of like giving birth in a way...you know with mental anguish taking the place of a something the size of a watermellon being pushed out something the size of an egg.
The Ox Bellows
Friday, December 15, 2006
The Eight Nights of Hannukah
As sung to the tune of the 12 Days of Christmas
On the First night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Guilt about not calling my family.
On the Second night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Third night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Fourth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Heeb Magazine for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Fifth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Sixth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Driedels for gambling
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Seventh night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Kosher Candies to Nosh on
Driedels for gambling
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Eighth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Candles for Burning
Kosher treats for Noshing
Driedels for Gambling
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the First night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Guilt about not calling my family.
On the Second night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Third night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Fourth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Heeb Magazine for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Fifth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Sixth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Driedels for gambling
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Seventh night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Kosher Candies to Nosh on
Driedels for gambling
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
On the Eighth night of Hanukkah,
my true love gave to me,
Candles for Burning
Kosher treats for Noshing
Driedels for Gambling
Purell for your Schmutzzz
Heeb for Hip Hop Hebrews
Bagels for my breakfast
Socks, so I don’t catch my death!
and Guilt about not calling my family
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
