This past week has been one for the books. I finished my full-time job to pursue, a full-time career as a writer. I'm frightened, nervous, and more than a little scared. I keep finding myself nodding off to sleep just to try and stop thinking about the upcoming events. The people that I leave behind at that restaurant are some very important people. Not only have they supported my writing, they also showed me a lot of Love, and respect as their manager. As always I hope for the best for all of them. I hope they all have the opportunity such as I have to follow their dreams. I realize that it isn't pressure that is on me from people, it's hope. They've all wished me the best and hope that I can achieve a certain amount of success. Enough to house them all to a party at my Malibu mansion, next door to Justin Bieber. We had a shindig on Sunday in which way too much Guinness was ingested, but it was a wonderful event. My drunken words, boob-gazing and off tune singing will most likely be forgotten, except for from my wife who was sober. Poor girl. She told me that while passed out on the couch, I grinned from ear to ear like a school boy.
The impact of this change has penetrated my subconscious as well. Last night I had the greatest restaurant dream of all time. It's notorious in the serving industry to have nightmares in which you are serving a 14 table section of constant complainers, and people wanting refills, while the kitchen is through a Forrest, and you can never stop being sat. It happens all through the night and when you finally wake up, you're exhausted, and probably have to go to work. Last nights dream started the same as always. I had a big section, three parties, new menu, triple sat, etc. As the first table started to give me attitude, I snickered(in the dream!!) and told them I didn't care. I told them it was my last shift, and then I walked away. Everyone was "disappointed" and I honest to God didn't care. It was some sort of cleansing, and I've stopped stalking that bitch that yelled at me two Sundays ago. I'm getting to old to actually shit on someones lawn, and I shouldn't have promised to.
When I was a young lad, I used to do prep at the Keg in Maple Ridge and I was the youngest person back there. I was surrounded by mid-thirties prep cooks that exhausted the classic rock hour on 99.3 TheFox radio station. The one lady use to sit there and laugh while I talked nonstop about absolutely nothing. She said to me that I should be a story teller, or something "on TV" It always stuck with me. Here was this woman, who knew nothing about me personally, telling me that she thought I could succeed. I know it sounds a little self-absorbed, but I'm feeling a little low. I'm trying to feed off the confidence that others have in me. And it's not like me to not think highly of my ability. I'm usually the first person to want to hear my own voice.(it's very soothing....it's why I deliberately talk in my sleep) Granted I have a few days in my car to get up the confidence to believe in myself.
Last night was a very difficult time though. I laid in bed with a kid under each arm and thought about the 52 days I'm going to be without thems. That's a lot. I know, I know....people do it all the time. People go off to war, or jail, or jobs that keep them away from their families and they get through. It's just never happened to me before. As Alex grabbed my hand with his little fingers and brought me to his bed for sleep time, I welled up with tears. I mean Elizabeth can talk to me, tell me how she feels, but he just wants crackers and Dora the Explorer. I'll miss his little words, and goofball behaviour. He's going to be growing, and learning, and developing...I just have to believe that I'm creating a job(and hopefully a paycheck) that provides him with a better life. I have to truly believe that the real reason for all of this is for these two. That one day they can have the kind of nonsense reality show based off their fathers success\failure. As Tracey Jordan once said, "I just want to make enough money so that my kids don't have to go to school"
All jokes aside, this is my final week in Ontario for a while. I gotta nothin to pack, I'm scared and have been breathing into a paper bag all morning. The next two months may produce a shit-load of emotional blogs, but I will continue, and I hope that you'll enjoy my journey. Now I gotta go lay down...
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
and the weiner is....
Alright, I've been trying my best to stay away from the ins and outs of the political bullshit of our country, but it's bubbled over. I get that people draw distinct lines in the sand about who the vote for, why, and everything else, but aren't we endanger of heading down the comical road of a FOX NEWS north? The SUN media channel is going to be spitting mouthfuls of incendiary bullets at all kinds of topics in order to achieve some sort of personal success. These television personalities are going to believe, and say whatever continues to garner them a paycheck. We have multiple parties and multiple points of view. This mainstreaming of issues to separate sides is going to narrow the field down to two. Of course I understand that it's usually down to two anyway, but the idea that we are truly free to decide amongst 4 or 5 has always been something I celebrated about Canada.
Of course the candidates are the same faces. One that cares only about one province and secures a shitload of money and seats for a particular group of people, and makes no bones about it. Kinda makes it funny that he would oppose anyone on any other topic considering that he's like the "only child" and just keeps yelling mine. You've got the dude with the eyebrows. He sounds like he's got some good ideas, and represents a little of my personal social beliefs, but his delivery is a touch scary. There's the current PM and stiff. This guy looks as if he's never had a fun day in his life. I've said it before...He's just a kid that didn't get to play with the cool kids so he became Prime Minister just to fuck with them. There's little bald guy, who's intentions are always good. The NDP always seem like they've got the best ideas, solutions, and the best outlook for Canada. But I worry that when they get the keys, they're going to crash us in to the ditch and claim they don't know how to drive standard. And of course the smartest, and most focused on the people and our land Elizabeth May...if only she was allowed to speak in public.
So what to do? Listen to the conservative nut-jobs that get so angry because you believe in something other than their beliefs? Read the Toronto Sun where Fuck-Face Brian Lilley(soon to be the Canadian Glenn Beck) who took Ignatieff's quote, " Let some Flowers bloom here" and claimed that it was close enough to Zedong Mao's slogan for a campaign called A Hundred Flower Movement. He then took this slogan chopped in half and used it to call Ignatieff a communist sympathizer. I guess something gets lost in translation, but if works for the cause, whatever. I've read some of Brian Lilley work and even in the article he used words that were quite often used by Hitler! I think it's safe to draw a direct line between Brian Lilley using the phrase, "other's followed" with the forming of the Nazi Party. Hey look, I'm a journalist! I guess accuracy in the quote or it's proper translation aren't necessary. After all American politicians have taught us anything is that you can say anything as long as "was not intended to be a factual statement." (see US SEN Jon Kyl) Brian Lilley has job and that job is to get Harper re-elected and sell newspapers. He also has been linked to the SS (by me) and has touched baby goats with the tip of his penis(not intended to be a factual statement) His article is inflammatory, and his references are stretched. Is he just as hard on Harper?
I'm sure that SUN media's new channel will fill us with a wonderful omelet of horse manure, and poppycock, but it still leaves me wondering which douche bag is the least douchiest. The truth is the generation that smoked pot, wants it to be illegal. The generation that believed in free love, tried to reverse Gay Marriage. They came from the seeds of arts and music, but claim "Ordinary folks don't care about the arts". Harper said that when he cut 45 million dollars from arts and culture, then went on to play piano with the youtube girl to swing the younger generation in his favour, but failed to tell her not to expect the government to aid her dream in anyway. I know, I know, I'm clearly not a Harper guy, but I'm not sure of anything. Now a days, I got think about what's best for me, my family, my career. Wait a minute....Writer is an artist. I wonder if Brian Lilley knows that, especially since he'll be on TV soon too.
Of course the candidates are the same faces. One that cares only about one province and secures a shitload of money and seats for a particular group of people, and makes no bones about it. Kinda makes it funny that he would oppose anyone on any other topic considering that he's like the "only child" and just keeps yelling mine. You've got the dude with the eyebrows. He sounds like he's got some good ideas, and represents a little of my personal social beliefs, but his delivery is a touch scary. There's the current PM and stiff. This guy looks as if he's never had a fun day in his life. I've said it before...He's just a kid that didn't get to play with the cool kids so he became Prime Minister just to fuck with them. There's little bald guy, who's intentions are always good. The NDP always seem like they've got the best ideas, solutions, and the best outlook for Canada. But I worry that when they get the keys, they're going to crash us in to the ditch and claim they don't know how to drive standard. And of course the smartest, and most focused on the people and our land Elizabeth May...if only she was allowed to speak in public.
So what to do? Listen to the conservative nut-jobs that get so angry because you believe in something other than their beliefs? Read the Toronto Sun where Fuck-Face Brian Lilley(soon to be the Canadian Glenn Beck) who took Ignatieff's quote, " Let some Flowers bloom here" and claimed that it was close enough to Zedong Mao's slogan for a campaign called A Hundred Flower Movement. He then took this slogan chopped in half and used it to call Ignatieff a communist sympathizer. I guess something gets lost in translation, but if works for the cause, whatever. I've read some of Brian Lilley work and even in the article he used words that were quite often used by Hitler! I think it's safe to draw a direct line between Brian Lilley using the phrase, "other's followed" with the forming of the Nazi Party. Hey look, I'm a journalist! I guess accuracy in the quote or it's proper translation aren't necessary. After all American politicians have taught us anything is that you can say anything as long as "was not intended to be a factual statement." (see US SEN Jon Kyl) Brian Lilley has job and that job is to get Harper re-elected and sell newspapers. He also has been linked to the SS (by me) and has touched baby goats with the tip of his penis(not intended to be a factual statement) His article is inflammatory, and his references are stretched. Is he just as hard on Harper?
I'm sure that SUN media's new channel will fill us with a wonderful omelet of horse manure, and poppycock, but it still leaves me wondering which douche bag is the least douchiest. The truth is the generation that smoked pot, wants it to be illegal. The generation that believed in free love, tried to reverse Gay Marriage. They came from the seeds of arts and music, but claim "Ordinary folks don't care about the arts". Harper said that when he cut 45 million dollars from arts and culture, then went on to play piano with the youtube girl to swing the younger generation in his favour, but failed to tell her not to expect the government to aid her dream in anyway. I know, I know, I'm clearly not a Harper guy, but I'm not sure of anything. Now a days, I got think about what's best for me, my family, my career. Wait a minute....Writer is an artist. I wonder if Brian Lilley knows that, especially since he'll be on TV soon too.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
braxton hicks
Throughout the weeks preparing for a cross-country move I realized that I should start making lists. Things I need for the drive, for the first few months. How embarrassing to look at the essentials that you need, when there are only 3 things other than clothes on the list. Computer, Guitar, and...shit I can't think of the third thing. Brutal.
Fortunately I awoke to a wonderful day. Not because I have to stay out of my house while strangers pile through making comments about the stuff I've compiled. And not because I've traded in my afternoon nap for a pint and some wings, but because it's actually a beautiful day. The one thing about living in a winter wasteland is that when the weather breaks, and breaks for good, it can be an amazing revitalization of the soul. Other than those weirdos that claim to "Love" winter, the rest of us power through Seasonal Adjustment Disorder. Locked in a frostbitten world. Our cars are salt covered, our grass has been burnt by snow in some oxymoronic twist.
But then...
One day it's different. We're weary because there are a few teases along the way. A few days in which we don't have zip our jackets to the chin, or wear the second pair of gloves. But then it happens. You run to the car in just a long sleeve and you don't die. You open the door to get the morning paper without the fear that your nuts will lift inside you gullet. All of a sudden you have hope again. Hope that you'll be able to enjoy being outside without being bundled up like the Randy Parker from A Christmas Story. You wash your car, you clean up the dog shit, and garbage off your lawn because the snows melted. It's a new day.
Torontians have the same feeling each year, and the rebirth is a welcome change each spring. In the west coast we didn't have such distinct seasons. It never got super cold, and the ocean prevented the super hot. But southern Ontario draws clear lines in the sand. Today was that first day in what will be many, in which the warmth, humidity and sunshine begin to usurp winter's bone. It's the first day in which you nap with the window open. That cool breeze feathers your toes as you dream of snow capped mountains, the sunset over the ocean, and as much vegetarian food as one can get. (I can't wait to get to Vancouver!!) I'm glad that had a day like this before I left. It was inevitable, but just as the years before this one, I forget about it until it happened. In the same fashion that I try an educate people about how to behave in public, I hope to infuse a small amount of Toronto into the Vancouverites who loathe the Big Smoke. Especially the ones that have never been here. I know I've been spewing shit about Vancouver to the people here that think it rains everyday but three on the wet coast.
As I waste time between lunch and work, I realize I'd be foolish if I didn't take these next few weeks to revel the things I love here. It's like a break up, there are always going to be things that you love still, even if you're getting back with your ex after all these years. Of course the people mean everything. Even now, as I unsocially type this at a crowded bar, a beautiful friend\ waitress\ and possible gift bag thief, reminds me that she hates me, but will miss me. She's one of these gorgeous girls that knows and likes my wife so much, she dismisses my every advance. I'll miss her too. I've been getting a lot of the "I hate you, but congratulations" It's a wonderfully complicating show of respect and flattery....I hope.
I've said that I would blog about the change, the newness of being back home, but I'm going to be sure to remember all of the things here that have been so memorable. There is no doubt that there's plenty I'll miss. Plenty I'll wish I could be doing. Not to mention the friends that I associate with events, dates and places. In two weeks I begin another chapter in my life, with old friends and new family. If May 2nd, my first day of school, is the true rebirth, today was a pretty serious kick.
Fortunately I awoke to a wonderful day. Not because I have to stay out of my house while strangers pile through making comments about the stuff I've compiled. And not because I've traded in my afternoon nap for a pint and some wings, but because it's actually a beautiful day. The one thing about living in a winter wasteland is that when the weather breaks, and breaks for good, it can be an amazing revitalization of the soul. Other than those weirdos that claim to "Love" winter, the rest of us power through Seasonal Adjustment Disorder. Locked in a frostbitten world. Our cars are salt covered, our grass has been burnt by snow in some oxymoronic twist.
But then...
One day it's different. We're weary because there are a few teases along the way. A few days in which we don't have zip our jackets to the chin, or wear the second pair of gloves. But then it happens. You run to the car in just a long sleeve and you don't die. You open the door to get the morning paper without the fear that your nuts will lift inside you gullet. All of a sudden you have hope again. Hope that you'll be able to enjoy being outside without being bundled up like the Randy Parker from A Christmas Story. You wash your car, you clean up the dog shit, and garbage off your lawn because the snows melted. It's a new day.
Torontians have the same feeling each year, and the rebirth is a welcome change each spring. In the west coast we didn't have such distinct seasons. It never got super cold, and the ocean prevented the super hot. But southern Ontario draws clear lines in the sand. Today was that first day in what will be many, in which the warmth, humidity and sunshine begin to usurp winter's bone. It's the first day in which you nap with the window open. That cool breeze feathers your toes as you dream of snow capped mountains, the sunset over the ocean, and as much vegetarian food as one can get. (I can't wait to get to Vancouver!!) I'm glad that had a day like this before I left. It was inevitable, but just as the years before this one, I forget about it until it happened. In the same fashion that I try an educate people about how to behave in public, I hope to infuse a small amount of Toronto into the Vancouverites who loathe the Big Smoke. Especially the ones that have never been here. I know I've been spewing shit about Vancouver to the people here that think it rains everyday but three on the wet coast.
As I waste time between lunch and work, I realize I'd be foolish if I didn't take these next few weeks to revel the things I love here. It's like a break up, there are always going to be things that you love still, even if you're getting back with your ex after all these years. Of course the people mean everything. Even now, as I unsocially type this at a crowded bar, a beautiful friend\ waitress\ and possible gift bag thief, reminds me that she hates me, but will miss me. She's one of these gorgeous girls that knows and likes my wife so much, she dismisses my every advance. I'll miss her too. I've been getting a lot of the "I hate you, but congratulations" It's a wonderfully complicating show of respect and flattery....I hope.
I've said that I would blog about the change, the newness of being back home, but I'm going to be sure to remember all of the things here that have been so memorable. There is no doubt that there's plenty I'll miss. Plenty I'll wish I could be doing. Not to mention the friends that I associate with events, dates and places. In two weeks I begin another chapter in my life, with old friends and new family. If May 2nd, my first day of school, is the true rebirth, today was a pretty serious kick.
Friday, April 1, 2011
The dominos must fall...
The hardest part of the past few weeks wasn't keeping the secret of my move, but more the anxiety about it. It's funny that things that I've wanted to happen for a few years is now happening and I'm freaking out. Last Wednesday I had to put in my notice at work. It was a big step in the western direction. I don't love my job, but I do the people. I think that's universal for a lot of people. There's a tough exchange between loving what you do, and who you do it with, but if you find that you have both...stick with it! I was nervous to purposely become unemployed, but it had to happen. That night I explained to all that would listen about my upcoming changes. Then came Thursday, my day off. I wrote up the blog ch..changes, and sat back to endure the love and kudos from friends and family. It was a wonderful high. Many people encouraged the move even though it would be away from them. Many were happy that I was heading homeward and we would be face to face in just over a month.
Then came Friday....
Friday I was filled with complete and total fear. I started to question my decision, how plausible it would be. I paced back and forth on the hardwood, running the numbers through in my head. I gotta sell the house, then I gotta get a job, from there I have to pay X amount for rent, and Y amount has to be sent back to T for the mortgage if the house doesn't sell. There's the moving, the driving, the housing, the kids, the cat, the yard, gas money, hotels, food, I gotta bring my bike( it's Vancouver), I need a bike rack, a bag rack, a suitcase, a new computer, clean the bathroom, clean out the basement, wash my work clothes, shave, call the school, pay for school, get an umbrella, wear my Canucks jersey, how is T gonna get around without the car, I'd better fly. I'm afraid to fly, can my guitar go on the plane? what about my bike. How do you use SKYPE? Am I even a good enough writer to make a living at this, and do I have the money? Or do I have the money, and that's why they think I'm good enough..
By 8a.m. I was in a constant state of panic. My collar was tightening around my neck and I wasn't even wearing a shirt. Truthfully I don't have the answer to any of those problems, if there are any. I know that I have the support that I need to carry on. I know that the people that I love believe this will work, and they're good people. I know that I dreamt about having this chance, and I have it. A few weeks ago when I mockingly said that I would forget everyone if I got successful, I failed to remind everyone that I have a 1000 stories, and they are because of the people that I've met. The people I love and hate, those who don't like me, people I vehemently disagree with, people I inexplicably side with. People I worked with for one day, some for years. Some I've misjudged, some that have misjudged me. Lovers, friends, enemies, frenemies, family, associates, friends of friends, acquaintance's, hangers on, that dude that looks like that other dude, the guy who thinks I'm Rob, his girlfriend....
Ontario has been good to me. I've seen Toronto at its best and it's worst. And I'll never forget it. I know that some people around the country find things to hate about Toronto, and there are things, but why. The hockey team sucks, but there were celebrations up and down Yonge street that I'll never forget. I love Toronto Island, the Blue Jays, the Beaches. And I truly love the people that I'm been blessed to call my friends. The few months without my lil ones will be hard, but being away from those that have helped shape who I am, will be harder over time. I have encouraged them all to visit, some I've told to actually move west. I guess I shouldn't be greedy about the opportunity that I already have. But I will! Just like everything that has to happen in order for me to drive away, the dominoes that fall must be in place first. I can only influence my own circumstances. Twenty-five things off the list, twenty-five more added.
Then came Friday....
Friday I was filled with complete and total fear. I started to question my decision, how plausible it would be. I paced back and forth on the hardwood, running the numbers through in my head. I gotta sell the house, then I gotta get a job, from there I have to pay X amount for rent, and Y amount has to be sent back to T for the mortgage if the house doesn't sell. There's the moving, the driving, the housing, the kids, the cat, the yard, gas money, hotels, food, I gotta bring my bike( it's Vancouver), I need a bike rack, a bag rack, a suitcase, a new computer, clean the bathroom, clean out the basement, wash my work clothes, shave, call the school, pay for school, get an umbrella, wear my Canucks jersey, how is T gonna get around without the car, I'd better fly. I'm afraid to fly, can my guitar go on the plane? what about my bike. How do you use SKYPE? Am I even a good enough writer to make a living at this, and do I have the money? Or do I have the money, and that's why they think I'm good enough..
By 8a.m. I was in a constant state of panic. My collar was tightening around my neck and I wasn't even wearing a shirt. Truthfully I don't have the answer to any of those problems, if there are any. I know that I have the support that I need to carry on. I know that the people that I love believe this will work, and they're good people. I know that I dreamt about having this chance, and I have it. A few weeks ago when I mockingly said that I would forget everyone if I got successful, I failed to remind everyone that I have a 1000 stories, and they are because of the people that I've met. The people I love and hate, those who don't like me, people I vehemently disagree with, people I inexplicably side with. People I worked with for one day, some for years. Some I've misjudged, some that have misjudged me. Lovers, friends, enemies, frenemies, family, associates, friends of friends, acquaintance's, hangers on, that dude that looks like that other dude, the guy who thinks I'm Rob, his girlfriend....
Ontario has been good to me. I've seen Toronto at its best and it's worst. And I'll never forget it. I know that some people around the country find things to hate about Toronto, and there are things, but why. The hockey team sucks, but there were celebrations up and down Yonge street that I'll never forget. I love Toronto Island, the Blue Jays, the Beaches. And I truly love the people that I'm been blessed to call my friends. The few months without my lil ones will be hard, but being away from those that have helped shape who I am, will be harder over time. I have encouraged them all to visit, some I've told to actually move west. I guess I shouldn't be greedy about the opportunity that I already have. But I will! Just like everything that has to happen in order for me to drive away, the dominoes that fall must be in place first. I can only influence my own circumstances. Twenty-five things off the list, twenty-five more added.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
ch..ch..changes
Well, I guess it's time to unleash the news...
For the past few weeks I have found myself writing very cryptic blogs, and intense ones over at http://www.cmagnet.blogspot.com/ for the equivalent of writers training. I knew that keeping up the pace words would keep me sharp for any kind of career as writer. I have to learn how to get the little ones some food and throw on Dora the Explorer, but still have the concentration to pen a few lines. The excitement has been building to this...
I have been accepted into the writing program at Vancouver Film School starting May 2nd. This was an opportunity that I had no choice but to take. All the factors became talking points in my house, but ultimately the smartest person in my household, said that I had to go. (you're welcome!) My lovely partner in crime and passion knows how important this is for me, and what a wonderful show of support. Of course this is not without it's challenges. First lets look at the upside...
1)- I'm going home. As many of you know, I love Vancouver and have missed it's sunsets, and spring rainfall for many years. When I first moved to Toronto, I thought I'd never leave. It was late night parties, night club bartending, and beautiful babies everywhere. Sunday afternoon Blue Jays games, drinking beers on the Black Bull patio...then you have a few kids, move to the burbs, and the luster starts to fade. When the Maple Leafs fired Pat Quinn things changed. I went back to my first and true love(The Vancouver Canucks) A few years back I went back to Van for a friends wedding and it was affair rekindled. I was quickly reminded of the times when I was young. It was beautiful
2) Going to a program that has had success with it's graduates in Film\TV is exciting. It's been a long time since I've been in school, but I think these previous years can only be an asset when you are writing. After all, you need the stories to be authentic, and I can talk the shit out most people! That's years of bartending put to practical use. It's also the right path for someone to pay me to ramble on (hopefully!)
3) the Canucks are the number one team in the NHL, and I'll be standing on the parade route that I missed last year during the Olympics. The hockey gods are gonna make it up to me
4) change is good
The downside is shorter, but way scarier
1)I'm going to have to leave for May 2nd, T and the kids won't be able to come out until mid-June. That's a lot of time away from my little babies. I'm stressed just thinking about it. I need to man-up, I know that true heroic people go away to a bomb riddled Afghanistan away from there kids! I've got SKYPE and all the Starbucks I can ingest. It'll be fine. Right? RIGHT?!
2) They're coming out for summer vacation, but are coming back in September. Leaving me in BC to finish the program. Mornings with the little man....playing MarioKart with Elizabeth, all put on hold. (I'm starting to sweat) Its for a better opportunity in life...right?
3)T's support. I know it sounds cheesy, but few understand the idiosyncratic, neuritic, fucked-up behavior I display on a day to day basis. We always support each other, and without that person within reach, I'm afraid my craziness might reach extended beard, Mohawk, sparkly nail polish level.
Overall I'm very excited. I've been keeping this secret for a few weeks, and it's been really hard, but today it's become real. I've put my notice in at a job full of wonderful people. They're a little mad I'm leaving, but encourage my decision. It's always hard when you have to leave people that you truly like. In a transient business like restaurants and bars, it's tough. Good people come and go, but I hope that my memories will always be there. It' been 13 years that I've lived in Ontario, and some of the most important parts of my life began and flourished here. Originally, I left because I was unable to handle the death of my mother and the reaction around me. Yesterday, on what would've been her 60th birthday, I put my house up for sale to fund school and my move. I hope that I'm making her proud.
I know that I wrote before a mock thank you to everyone that ever supported my writing, suggesting that I would become a Hollywood prick, and forget everyone. It's simply not true. I was blessed with a wonderful memory, and one that recalls specific situations of flattery. If my life takes a course in which I am bestowed an honor in any way, I hope to honor all you that have supported me, with a personal thank you.
Over the next few weeks I'm going to be very busy, and may not have the time to make post, but they will continue. Especially once I get back West. I'm also disabling my Facebook security in order to curb any misinformation about the coming changes, but you can still leave me messages, or comments on the blog.(I already heard that T and I were getting a divorce)
For the past few weeks I have found myself writing very cryptic blogs, and intense ones over at http://www.cmagnet.blogspot.com/ for the equivalent of writers training. I knew that keeping up the pace words would keep me sharp for any kind of career as writer. I have to learn how to get the little ones some food and throw on Dora the Explorer, but still have the concentration to pen a few lines. The excitement has been building to this...
I have been accepted into the writing program at Vancouver Film School starting May 2nd. This was an opportunity that I had no choice but to take. All the factors became talking points in my house, but ultimately the smartest person in my household, said that I had to go. (you're welcome!) My lovely partner in crime and passion knows how important this is for me, and what a wonderful show of support. Of course this is not without it's challenges. First lets look at the upside...
1)- I'm going home. As many of you know, I love Vancouver and have missed it's sunsets, and spring rainfall for many years. When I first moved to Toronto, I thought I'd never leave. It was late night parties, night club bartending, and beautiful babies everywhere. Sunday afternoon Blue Jays games, drinking beers on the Black Bull patio...then you have a few kids, move to the burbs, and the luster starts to fade. When the Maple Leafs fired Pat Quinn things changed. I went back to my first and true love(The Vancouver Canucks) A few years back I went back to Van for a friends wedding and it was affair rekindled. I was quickly reminded of the times when I was young. It was beautiful
2) Going to a program that has had success with it's graduates in Film\TV is exciting. It's been a long time since I've been in school, but I think these previous years can only be an asset when you are writing. After all, you need the stories to be authentic, and I can talk the shit out most people! That's years of bartending put to practical use. It's also the right path for someone to pay me to ramble on (hopefully!)
3) the Canucks are the number one team in the NHL, and I'll be standing on the parade route that I missed last year during the Olympics. The hockey gods are gonna make it up to me
4) change is good
The downside is shorter, but way scarier
1)I'm going to have to leave for May 2nd, T and the kids won't be able to come out until mid-June. That's a lot of time away from my little babies. I'm stressed just thinking about it. I need to man-up, I know that true heroic people go away to a bomb riddled Afghanistan away from there kids! I've got SKYPE and all the Starbucks I can ingest. It'll be fine. Right? RIGHT?!
2) They're coming out for summer vacation, but are coming back in September. Leaving me in BC to finish the program. Mornings with the little man....playing MarioKart with Elizabeth, all put on hold. (I'm starting to sweat) Its for a better opportunity in life...right?
3)T's support. I know it sounds cheesy, but few understand the idiosyncratic, neuritic, fucked-up behavior I display on a day to day basis. We always support each other, and without that person within reach, I'm afraid my craziness might reach extended beard, Mohawk, sparkly nail polish level.
Overall I'm very excited. I've been keeping this secret for a few weeks, and it's been really hard, but today it's become real. I've put my notice in at a job full of wonderful people. They're a little mad I'm leaving, but encourage my decision. It's always hard when you have to leave people that you truly like. In a transient business like restaurants and bars, it's tough. Good people come and go, but I hope that my memories will always be there. It' been 13 years that I've lived in Ontario, and some of the most important parts of my life began and flourished here. Originally, I left because I was unable to handle the death of my mother and the reaction around me. Yesterday, on what would've been her 60th birthday, I put my house up for sale to fund school and my move. I hope that I'm making her proud.
I know that I wrote before a mock thank you to everyone that ever supported my writing, suggesting that I would become a Hollywood prick, and forget everyone. It's simply not true. I was blessed with a wonderful memory, and one that recalls specific situations of flattery. If my life takes a course in which I am bestowed an honor in any way, I hope to honor all you that have supported me, with a personal thank you.
Over the next few weeks I'm going to be very busy, and may not have the time to make post, but they will continue. Especially once I get back West. I'm also disabling my Facebook security in order to curb any misinformation about the coming changes, but you can still leave me messages, or comments on the blog.(I already heard that T and I were getting a divorce)
Friday, March 11, 2011
Some mornings just feel different than others. Today, it was weird to awake to hear the news of a massive earthquake off Japan. It puts things in perspective quickly. You start to think about the force of mother nature. It's raw power and how we go through our lives without thinking about whether it will affect us or not. It's devastating to watch. People not knowing about the gigantic tsunami heading their way, strolling down the street. The image of huge fishing vessels over turned in a parking lot. It freaks me out. I start to think about my kids, my reaction. The belief that I'm some sort of super hero may only be a fantasy. How disappointing.
My first thoughts were of people that I know with ties to the devastated region. A friend teaching in Taiwan, another who just moved from Tokyo, but has plenty of friends still abroad. Earthquakes are confusing. When you're in one you don't really understand what's happening. If it's long enough, you eventually figure it out, but smaller ones you just assume that you're hungover. It's like that feeling of falling in a dream, but you actually think your falling and your body reacts as such.(shit I shouldn't have watched Inception last night) I've been through smaller quakes, but none that stick out. The last was when I was in L.A. working on a production and there was one overnight. I had a long day on set, grabbed a sixer of rolling rock and 3 pack of Camels and retired to my room. I watched a high speed chase(that ended up going right past the hotel) and passed out. In the morning the crew was all excited that I was there for a 4-pointer, but I didn't recall. I thought I had knocked the shit off the night stand in my sleep. What a let down.
The first one was in Hawaii about 27 years ago. It was a vacation that was scheduled for the entire month of December. There was short period of time that my Mom and step-dad got along, and we rented a villa in Maui. It was the greatest part of my childhood. I was about 12yrs old and could come and go as pleased. In the olden days nobody worried about their kids running off. We knew when lunch and dinner was, but it was optional. I spent everyday in ocean. Bogey-boarding, surfing, and roaming through the wooded areas around the beach. I went days without wearing a shirt, or showering with soap. I had turned such a shade of dark brown that my family could barely recognize me, and all the locals accepted me. It was one of the only times I could tell people that I was half black and they didn't question it.
I loved Maui. I wanted to live there and surf the rest of my life. I still do, but I'm pretty fat to be surfing. The lifestyle was easy to fall in love with, after all I wasn't in school. No one ever supervised me. I remember one time the elevator got stuck between floors and me and some other kids just pryed open the doors and went on our way. There were these bullfrogs that were the size of small puppies. If one jumped and hit you, you'd fall down. We captured about eight of them and put them in this third kids bathroom, and waited until his Mom screamed. Then we ran to the beach and dazed at the stars. The final week, we stayed in Waikiki. It wasn't the same. It was touristy, and packed. The beaches were over crowded, and the waves weren't very big. Nobody knew what a Hawaiian pizza was, and the hot dog vendors specialize in Canadian Wieners, weird. I think that there was life lesson somewhere wrapped in that trip about seeing the true Hawaii compared to the one they dress up for you. Since then, I've been to all-inclusive resorts, and although nice, they lack the pizazz of the natural country. Outside of the 5 star Dominican resort is a country devastated with poverty, and corruption. On the other side of the island is Haiti still trying to recover from it's own crushing earthquake. We fly to these places and see the paradise that has been gathered, primped and preened, but underneath can be some serious scars.
We tend to think that Japan will be okay. We know that they have emergency response for such occasions, and that they are prepared for the idea of a massive earthquake, but reality isn't always as reasonable as the projections. They have the worlds 3rd largest economy, and have suffered devastating circumstances in the past, but it doesn't mean they won't need our support. The friends and family that live here, that have friends and family there. It's not about politics, or who gave more, it's about people. I know it eases some people's vacation to bring clothes or extra money to all-inclusive resorts, so that they can help the staff while getting a drunk, and massages. Somewhere on a beach was a twelve year old boy that was playing in the ocean, and catching frogs.I want him to be okay, so I can read is ramblings one day. I'm sure there will be fundraisers, blood banks, and charitable donations available to aid those less fortunate than us today. There is always something we can give to help, even if all we can afford is time.
My first thoughts were of people that I know with ties to the devastated region. A friend teaching in Taiwan, another who just moved from Tokyo, but has plenty of friends still abroad. Earthquakes are confusing. When you're in one you don't really understand what's happening. If it's long enough, you eventually figure it out, but smaller ones you just assume that you're hungover. It's like that feeling of falling in a dream, but you actually think your falling and your body reacts as such.(shit I shouldn't have watched Inception last night) I've been through smaller quakes, but none that stick out. The last was when I was in L.A. working on a production and there was one overnight. I had a long day on set, grabbed a sixer of rolling rock and 3 pack of Camels and retired to my room. I watched a high speed chase(that ended up going right past the hotel) and passed out. In the morning the crew was all excited that I was there for a 4-pointer, but I didn't recall. I thought I had knocked the shit off the night stand in my sleep. What a let down.
The first one was in Hawaii about 27 years ago. It was a vacation that was scheduled for the entire month of December. There was short period of time that my Mom and step-dad got along, and we rented a villa in Maui. It was the greatest part of my childhood. I was about 12yrs old and could come and go as pleased. In the olden days nobody worried about their kids running off. We knew when lunch and dinner was, but it was optional. I spent everyday in ocean. Bogey-boarding, surfing, and roaming through the wooded areas around the beach. I went days without wearing a shirt, or showering with soap. I had turned such a shade of dark brown that my family could barely recognize me, and all the locals accepted me. It was one of the only times I could tell people that I was half black and they didn't question it.
I loved Maui. I wanted to live there and surf the rest of my life. I still do, but I'm pretty fat to be surfing. The lifestyle was easy to fall in love with, after all I wasn't in school. No one ever supervised me. I remember one time the elevator got stuck between floors and me and some other kids just pryed open the doors and went on our way. There were these bullfrogs that were the size of small puppies. If one jumped and hit you, you'd fall down. We captured about eight of them and put them in this third kids bathroom, and waited until his Mom screamed. Then we ran to the beach and dazed at the stars. The final week, we stayed in Waikiki. It wasn't the same. It was touristy, and packed. The beaches were over crowded, and the waves weren't very big. Nobody knew what a Hawaiian pizza was, and the hot dog vendors specialize in Canadian Wieners, weird. I think that there was life lesson somewhere wrapped in that trip about seeing the true Hawaii compared to the one they dress up for you. Since then, I've been to all-inclusive resorts, and although nice, they lack the pizazz of the natural country. Outside of the 5 star Dominican resort is a country devastated with poverty, and corruption. On the other side of the island is Haiti still trying to recover from it's own crushing earthquake. We fly to these places and see the paradise that has been gathered, primped and preened, but underneath can be some serious scars.
We tend to think that Japan will be okay. We know that they have emergency response for such occasions, and that they are prepared for the idea of a massive earthquake, but reality isn't always as reasonable as the projections. They have the worlds 3rd largest economy, and have suffered devastating circumstances in the past, but it doesn't mean they won't need our support. The friends and family that live here, that have friends and family there. It's not about politics, or who gave more, it's about people. I know it eases some people's vacation to bring clothes or extra money to all-inclusive resorts, so that they can help the staff while getting a drunk, and massages. Somewhere on a beach was a twelve year old boy that was playing in the ocean, and catching frogs.I want him to be okay, so I can read is ramblings one day. I'm sure there will be fundraisers, blood banks, and charitable donations available to aid those less fortunate than us today. There is always something we can give to help, even if all we can afford is time.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
loved and lost
I admit that I have a lot of stories, and that I use them in order to compare, ease, amuse or comfort people. I've never been one of those one uppers that wait for you to say something then tells a story that betters them over you. In fact I don't like those people. They usually think that they have a lot of stories, and that you are some how interested, but you're probably not. I've also encountered these types under tragic situations and they still try to out do you. It's kind a crazy. Sometimes they even create a hypothetical that includes themselves, "Wow, I can't believe how well you're handling your Mom dying...I would be crushed." Thankfully for that guy, his Mom was at his house doing his laundry, and mine was in a decorative box in the back seat.
The other night I found myself talking about a friend of mine that passed away years ago. It made me think long and hard about these days that we deem as milestones, because it happened on my birthday. A friend said to me how hard it would be considering that I would remember his passing on a day I'm supposed to be celebrating. At first I agreed. Then a few scotches in, I thought about the fact that my birthday isn't really my milestones as much as it is my parents. They're the ones that should honor the day more than I, after all I had nothing to with the particulars of the day. Truth be told I've probably ruined the beauty of the day by getting drunk, puking and forgetting many of it's events. I'm not responsible enough to respect my own birthday. But what I do remember, and what I do honor is Greg Moore. Greg was special not only to me, but to a entire community. He died during the final race of the 1999 of the CART racing season. We all felt like he was our boy, and that he'd escaped the grips of a small town. And then it was over. After all that has happened, I'm honored to share the remembrance of a fine individual on the day I showed up. A year hasn't passed that I haven't raised a glass to him, and that will continue for the rest of my life. It is literally the least I can do.
It's hard for us to think of death as a celebration of life. I'm sure it's how we deal with something that we can't make sense of. I fear leaving my kids without a father. The thought can bring me to cold sweats, so I have to take the kind of precautions that give me the best chance of seeing parts of my kids life that my Mother missed of mine. No heroin...starting tomorrow. (It always starts tomorrow!) I remember telling T about Greg and her comment, like many others, surrounded how terrible it was that something so meaningful happened on My Day. Then the unthinkable happened. Our friend Lenny died. T and I had just returned from her birthday dinner when the phone rang. We let it go the first few times, but eventually got the bad news. Lenny was this amazing man. He truly affected everyone he met. Our circle of friends had felt inpenetrable for years, and our strongest member fell. We all spent long periods of time looking at the mirror. In a twisted way Lenworth aided turning all of us into adults. And for the birthday's that have followed for T, she has gladly shared with his honor.
So why am I rambling on about such things. A friend has suffered a loss on her birthday, and I don't know how to explain my sympathies except for sharing. I can only hope that during this dark period, she knows that she is surrounded by loving friends and family. That through loss we learn about ourselves, we reflect from our hearts, and we're able to be vulnerable. But it's how we get through is what defines us. When we celebrate our lives, our birthday's and our losses with the same introspection, I believe it creates true milestones. When my sister's boyfriend lost his brother to an accident, I learned that listening is better than talking. When my singing teacher lost a battle with cancer, I learned that everyone deals with death differently. After my Mother passed away I felt like I didn't learn anything, mostly because I was pissed off, but when my best friend's Father suddenly died, I knew that my experience would help. All I could offer were the choices that I made in my darkest moments, and hoped that he would do better.
I have no idea how she and her husband will handle such a situation. She's strong, smart and very astute to her emotions, and he's supportive, and loving. They are also deeply loved by their friends and family, and that support is where it will start. I do hope that they get to the point where I am with my birthday. Where I not only look at life that lead, but also honor the ones that have passed. There is no better day, and maybe no better way to truly mark the day of your own birth, then by a tribute to those aren't there to share it.
The other night I found myself talking about a friend of mine that passed away years ago. It made me think long and hard about these days that we deem as milestones, because it happened on my birthday. A friend said to me how hard it would be considering that I would remember his passing on a day I'm supposed to be celebrating. At first I agreed. Then a few scotches in, I thought about the fact that my birthday isn't really my milestones as much as it is my parents. They're the ones that should honor the day more than I, after all I had nothing to with the particulars of the day. Truth be told I've probably ruined the beauty of the day by getting drunk, puking and forgetting many of it's events. I'm not responsible enough to respect my own birthday. But what I do remember, and what I do honor is Greg Moore. Greg was special not only to me, but to a entire community. He died during the final race of the 1999 of the CART racing season. We all felt like he was our boy, and that he'd escaped the grips of a small town. And then it was over. After all that has happened, I'm honored to share the remembrance of a fine individual on the day I showed up. A year hasn't passed that I haven't raised a glass to him, and that will continue for the rest of my life. It is literally the least I can do.
It's hard for us to think of death as a celebration of life. I'm sure it's how we deal with something that we can't make sense of. I fear leaving my kids without a father. The thought can bring me to cold sweats, so I have to take the kind of precautions that give me the best chance of seeing parts of my kids life that my Mother missed of mine. No heroin...starting tomorrow. (It always starts tomorrow!) I remember telling T about Greg and her comment, like many others, surrounded how terrible it was that something so meaningful happened on My Day. Then the unthinkable happened. Our friend Lenny died. T and I had just returned from her birthday dinner when the phone rang. We let it go the first few times, but eventually got the bad news. Lenny was this amazing man. He truly affected everyone he met. Our circle of friends had felt inpenetrable for years, and our strongest member fell. We all spent long periods of time looking at the mirror. In a twisted way Lenworth aided turning all of us into adults. And for the birthday's that have followed for T, she has gladly shared with his honor.
So why am I rambling on about such things. A friend has suffered a loss on her birthday, and I don't know how to explain my sympathies except for sharing. I can only hope that during this dark period, she knows that she is surrounded by loving friends and family. That through loss we learn about ourselves, we reflect from our hearts, and we're able to be vulnerable. But it's how we get through is what defines us. When we celebrate our lives, our birthday's and our losses with the same introspection, I believe it creates true milestones. When my sister's boyfriend lost his brother to an accident, I learned that listening is better than talking. When my singing teacher lost a battle with cancer, I learned that everyone deals with death differently. After my Mother passed away I felt like I didn't learn anything, mostly because I was pissed off, but when my best friend's Father suddenly died, I knew that my experience would help. All I could offer were the choices that I made in my darkest moments, and hoped that he would do better.
I have no idea how she and her husband will handle such a situation. She's strong, smart and very astute to her emotions, and he's supportive, and loving. They are also deeply loved by their friends and family, and that support is where it will start. I do hope that they get to the point where I am with my birthday. Where I not only look at life that lead, but also honor the ones that have passed. There is no better day, and maybe no better way to truly mark the day of your own birth, then by a tribute to those aren't there to share it.
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