Its that time of year again. The seasonal change always brings on a time where I need to just sit and mull over things. It used to be about looking behind me, but these days its starting to become about looking ahead.
Before I start writing a bunch of gibberish, here's some music to go with the photos of this post (sort of):
Sparklehorse - Piano Fire
If you know me, you've definitely heard this one before. So don't stop me.
This is a sad song, but I use it because it makes me think of Autumn, and it also makes me think of where I was almost five years ago when I used to obsess over this song and songs like it and how different a place it was to be than where I am now.
Plus, some day I really want to get a photo of fiery pianos washed up on a foggy coast.
Where was I...
Oh right, I was going to use this "livejournal" thing to actually write a contemplative post.
I won't talk too much, I promise.
Just a little.
I'll try to spare you too much, as I'm a little tired myself and I don't want to go off on some random tangents, though I'm bound to do so anyhow.
So, I'm between jobs right now. Not through any fault of my own, mind you. Okay, maybe a little. I haven't had enough urge for leaving the place I've worked at for almost four years now. I should have, probably - a long time ago. I have applied other places in the past, but only as an idea of a secondary evening job. Maybe I should've committed to the full time all those times ago.
At any rate, the restaurant I worked at up and closed. Its gone, and there wasn't much there to be given to us at the end. Nothing even for the people I've known who have worked at the place since it opened - 20 years ago.
Mind you, the corporation that owns the restaurant is nowhere near bankrupt.
Just morally so.
As a server, getting laid off is not an enormous deal...though even with my 'simple' job description I find myself competing with large pools of employable people to find myself a place. Its the economy, what with the recession and all.
But this sudden change in my life has brought upon a lot of strange optimism.
I feel like so much more is possible. I'm actually looking at my life and I'm thinking about how I've been doing okay for building my own life in this city.
I also feel like I haven't regretted much of anything I've done in terms of my life as a whole for the past 4 and a half years. Sure, I regret things I've said and done in fights and various spats with my partner - that stuff I deeply regret at times. But I also know how deeply I love Mike and he loves me and I don't worry about the regret, because even with all of the worse stuff I don't feel like everything's been ruined or whatever. Not even close.
Mike is so much for my life.
And maybe that's where the optimism comes from. I know I can do things now and not be afraid.
But this post isn't about gushing about how much I love Mike. Even though it is officially his birthday. Happy birthday, babe. By the way.
This post is about how I've reached an age where I can truly say I feel like an independent person. And its not a bad thing.
I was in an interview recently for a prospective job and the manager asked me what my plan was, since food service is an easy gig.
I thought for a moment and I told him about how I wanted to become a photography teacher. Maybe an english teacher first (after all, this recession is - you know - kind of a big deal), but definitely a photography teacher.
Of course, I'm not really sure I'd want to do either - at least not unless it was for elementary school students around the 2nd to 3rd grade age range - but its at least a plan.
And saying that I want to serve tables for the rest of my life sounds like "I want to let people deeply disrespect me to my face with a shitty tip and a fake smile...FOREVER" - even to me.
So I went with that. I guess its enough. Although my continuing dream is to do what I'm doing. I don't mean serving tables - I mean, writing, photography, etc.
But I need to do this, I need to do that, I need to set all of these standards and goals and deadlines for myself and follow through with them - and then...and maybe then, I'll start writing again.
Yeah, no. I need to just write. Ignore everything else and write. And think. I've been doing some thinking but I need to do a lot more of it.
Turkeys don't think about much. They have no soul with which to think.
Or to write about their amazing travels across Marin County.
That's why we eat them.
Just kidding, guys.
I don't like turkey.
Although, I just thought of an idea for a novel...
No, forget it.
Anyhow, as I was saying. Or uh, writing.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my life. About my friends, and the kinds of friends I really want. The kind of life I really want.
I used to tell Mike that his friends intimidated me, what with their fancy college degrees and city livin' and their expensive pants and all....
And not to discredit my own current friends, all of whom I certainly consider close friends -
But I've realized that Mike's friends don't really intimidate me. The idea of having enough respect for myself to say what I do for a living without some sort of qualifier like, "Oh, I'm just a..." - that's what intimidates me.
Fuck this whole, "I'm just a lowly server and that obviously means I don't know them big words and such, and like, such as..."
I need to stop feeling sorry for myself in that respect. Though its not really that I feel sorry for myself for not yet getting a college degree even though I'm approaching 30.
Because, I don't.
I did what I had to do for the people that I loved and cared about. I didn't really have the right kind of time and energy for college.
I was too busy learning other things about life.
I don't need to go into all of that right now, but if anyone's really all that curious - just read back entries of this livejournal. You'll get a better understanding of my life. My writing here has been good for that, at least.
I don't honestly blame my parents for missing out on college, even though I do feel frustrated sometimes for not being given enough direction. But then again, maybe I never really wanted too much direction.
I can figure things out for myself pretty well.
But my own life eludes me so often. People used to think I was enigmatic because I didn't talk that often. Now they probably just think I'm kind of simple.
Or they don't.
I am kind of simple, in a way. I like life to be kind of simple.
I'm certainly not the wittiest person in a given room or anything like that. I have my moments, certainly.
But for every moment, I have about twelve....yeah, twelve'll do - other moments where I say something awkward or boring. Maybe everyone does, honestly.
Tangent again. Sorry about that. What I was writing - about my life and its elusiveness etc -
Life is unpredictable. This is probably the only deep truth I know.
Animals know this truth at a base level.
Everyone has a plan for what they're gonna do to reach their ultimate level of something.
I'm probably a level 70 Dorkmage of Happiness.
Which is pretty good, you know.
A lot of it might have to do with simple luck.
Lucky to be born into a family that for the most part did care about focusing on at least trying to find happiness with each other, even if my parents weren't the best match in that respect.
Lucky to be born somewhere in the middle class, in America.
Lucky for a lot of adventures I've already had the chance to live in my life.
So I don't know. How much of reaching our ultimate goal is based on pure luck?
I'll work harder and think more about what I'm going to do in the meantime, kind of like starting up a machine that just needs a spark of ignition to really get going.
But I'm not gonna tell you my ultimate goal. That's mine to figure out.
...Ok. I lied about including Bea Arthur's reanimated corpse in this photo entry. Sorry about that one.
But there's pirate kitty, as promised.
I miss Pirate Kitty. This is a cat that would visit me often on my walks to China Beach when Mike and I first moved to the Outer Richmond district. He (maybe she? I'm gonna go with He) was an incredibly sweet cat. Rae (raegun) got to meet Pirate Kitty (real name: Lucky - by the way) when she was down here visiting from Michigan, and I was so glad the cat came for a petting.
But the last few times I've visited the beach, I haven't seen Pirate Kitty anywhere.
I guess he got back to his normal job.