*Cue the theme to "Jaws"*

As you may or may not have heard, on Sunday June 14th, being of sound mind and body, I dressed up in shorts, a t-shirt and an inside-out bathrobe and took to the streets. Specifically, the streets of Union Square. I did not go alone. No sir. By my side (or in front of me) was Herman, a 7-foot long fibreglass great white shark. Perfecting the image of insanity was the sign I'd drafted, which read "Need $ for Shark Food (He's doing poorly)".

Call it a social experiment. Call it a chance to blow off some steam in a manner not entirely dissimilar to M*A*S*H's own Trapper and Hawkeye. (They frequently acted crazy to prove that they were sane.) Call it thinking and acting outside the box.

Sure, some folks were confused. They were no doubt asking themselves, "Why is a healthy, seemingly cognizant adult sitting on the street, asking (via print) for hand-outs for what is obviously a fake shark?" To ask why was to miss the point. There was no reason. There still isn't one. It was just fun.

The majority of passersby got the joke. Some gave a chuckle, some only a smile, some even gave a dollar. Many took pictures. The minority took offense to my harmless attempt to kill a few hours on what was a glorious and beautiful day.

Here's the kicker: It made New York Magazine. After only a few short hours of benign frivolity, my harmless antics were deemed worthy of recognition in their weekly "Neighborhood News" segment. Others mentioned in that week's post: Social Security fraud (he was dressing up like his dead mother), a cafeteria-wide food fight, and last but not least; an official police search for a runaway pony. The spirit of the post, I gathered, was this: "Real-life events that would make a person say, There's something you don't see every day."

Needless to say, my roommate is chomping at the bit to resume the activities Chondrichthyic. My own self, I'm not so sure. A repeat performance might smack of unoriginality. We'll just have to wait and see. I wonder who else might be, too...

Internet Therapy

Things at the moment are far from ideal. I'm working less than 10 hours a week (and taking interviews). Money is obviously tight as a result. A family member is going into hospital soon, for a serious operation. My prayers are with them. Not for the first time, I'm wishing I was closer to Maryland. (I almost wrote 'home'... but that's New York. For the time being, anyways.)

The screenplay's new draft is complete; which leaves me with far too much free time for uninterrupted thought. Not the best pastime at the moment. Applying for jobs and so forth takes up less time than I'd like.

There are blessings. A supportive family, good friends (local and abroad) and a patiently understanding landlady. That, and something to look forward to: an audition for a touring production. I don't want to jinx myself by divulging too much; let's just leave it with the firm stance that there are two parts I'd be great for.

Anyway. When feeling low, as I do now, one solution is to process the items and put them in perspective. My roommates are out and I'm not up for calling anyone; so that leaves you, gentle reader.

Are you sitting comfortably?

I maintain that the choice to move to New York was the right one; nevertheless I'm facing the reality that it's a choice I won't be able to sustain much longer without drastic improvement in my prospects. Prayers are welcome as ever (not to mention recommendations).

I don't know what's coming next; a feeling that's never been comfortable. There only so many things I can actively do to attempt some measure of control or influence on my life: namely to look for work, and submit my writing for consideration with agencies, producers and friends with connections. My roommate Trevor believes in me 100%, a feeling I take comfort and encouragement in-- he knows that I'm trying.

The past six months have been educational in more ways than one. I worked for (to put it delicately) a difficult man. I compare having worked for him with having worked for Life (the state of being, not the magazine) : there were parts I did not like, parts I disagreed with; but on the whole it was educational in a good way. Calvin's father of Calvin & Hobbes fame would issue some unwanted chore or task, saying "It builds character". There weren't that many unwanted chores-- it was the man's verbal abuse that built character. If he read this, he'd shake his head and say "you missed the point. I was trying to show what it's like to be a businessman." I'd say the point was received just fine.

Sunday is Father's Day. I volunteered to travel down for the weekend, but Dad's ministerial duties will make him largely unavailable. (He's got to be at the church on time, after all.) He suggested I visit in a few weeks' time. Sounds good to me.

I'm single, and not doing much dating. Making mild efforts with a dating service, but otherwise I'm not actively looking for anyone. This is not because I don't want to; quite the opposite. I want very much to find the right person. I do know, however, that looking for them never gets results. It's a funny world.

I'm proud to say I did something completely random on Sunday, and on the whole original. Dressed as a crazy person, I carried a 40 lb. fibreglass great white shark to Union Square and asked people for donations to buy shark food because Herman (the shark) was "doing poorly". About 80% of the passersby got the joke, and moved on with a smile. Some even left donations! Call it a social experiment, call it a M*A*S*H-worthy exercise in blowing off crazy-steam. I call it a fun way to spend a beautiful Sunday afternoon (and make thirty bucks). I don't frequently indulge the 'weird' side of my creativity. In any case, the occasion was extremely satisfying.

And look at that... I'm feeling a bit better. Thanks for the ear, as always. Ciao for now, folks.

Here We Are Again, Same Sh*t, Different Day

Not for the first time; I'm finding myself in the unenviable position of being between jobs. The timing couldn't be worse.

I'm going to be trying to sell a few things on Ebay as I continue looking for work. Also, I'm polishing a screenplay that will shortly be going out to the one or two viable showbiz contacts I have that could do something with it.

Frankly, I hate being in this position. It's a god-awful feeling. Things I'm trying to get done get pushed further and further off; and it just feels like it's completely out of my hands. Damn it. Damn it.

Damn.

If It's Not One Thing...

Right. So. I had an interview for a potentially-cool part time job today; got a phone call from one of my temp agencies that assured me things were a go for *another* part time job, and by some stroke of luck I still have my first job, working for the producer. And I may be picking up some freelance copy-writing/editing work in the near future. Woot.

I certainly won't be lacking for opportunities; in the coming days. Will I.

With one fire (being finances) being relatively doused for the time being, I am left with small recourse but to examine the other 'problems'. I'm... lonely. Best word for it. I'd like very much to find someone with whom I can spend time; when it's available. Someone to talk to, aside from yours truly.

I won't deny that solitude has served me well; in the last month I managed to write an entire screenplay, My Neighbor is a Supervillain. I've never written anything so fast in my life. An abundance of after-hours freetime, unhindered by a social life, made that possible. Now I'm shopping for an agent. (Do wish me luck.)

So. Pros and cons, as with any damned thing. Nothing new. Regardless. It would be quite something to just connect, with the right person.

On a completely different subject, the apartment now has a fibreglass great white shark in it. Named Herman. Not *my* first choice for a name, but I didn't find the blessed thing, either.

Right. So. I hope all is well, folks. Any updates will be reported in due time. Cheers.

Admiration and Accomplishment (Alliteratively)

I could listen to Stephen Fry read from the phone book. There is no end to my admiration for the man. He's a gifted actor, a brilliant novelist, one hell of a narrator and oh yes-- writes a brilliant sketch.

I was lucky enough to have found one of his starring TV series, Kingdom, on hulu.com. I'm enjoying it immensely.

Is it weird to want or appreciate a role-model in one's late twenties? Aren't people 'done' by now, essentially? Cookies come out of the oven at some point, having received all the heat and time they need. I wish I'd discovered Mr. Fry a decade ago. No use weeping over spilled milk. One can only move on with some shred of enlightenment.

I admire the proper usage of words, I respect it. It's virtually as good as currency with me. Stephen Fry is an absolute master of it.

I'm a firm believer that one of the key reasons 'we are here' is to best express ourselves. Find the proper words, find the proper definitions. Say what you mean, in the best possible means. (I rather like that.) Admiration is like a coin in the pocket, already spent but still in hand. Given and had in the same silver disc. Currency. I like it.

Anyway. Stephen Fry is brilliant and the more people that know it, the better.

Him and Alan Moore.

Regardless, of late my writing has taken a larger role in my work than ever. I recently finished a screenplay, My Neighbor is a Supervillain. By the definition of others, it's cute, it's fun and it's just the right length. I've started sending it out to be considered by agencies, and will be doing more of the same on Memorial Day: preparing post to go out. What else are an abundance of paper, postage and envelopes good for?

I have to write. I have to keep writing. It's the best expenditure of my time. No two ways about it.

On a completely separate note; I attended a wedding reception tonight. It was charming, warm and sweet. The bride and groom were made for each other. An absolutely delicious feeling I haven't tasted in years-- that sensation of belonging with someone. Things did not work out with that particular someone, and part of me has been praying/waiting/hoping for a replacement (or qualified placebo) ever since. Life's just funny that way, innit.

Right. Be well, folks. Best to you and yours. More to follow.

So Much Going On

A lot of things have been on my mind, lately. Life in New York has afforded me some wonderful opportunities, as well as cost me dearly in more ways than one.

At present, I'm only working part-time, a fact I hope to rectify by tomorrow-- if not the end of the week.

My writing is going very well, insomuch as productivity is concerned. I'm too close and too subjective to attest to its quality. It *feels* good, and that will have to be enough for now.

In addition to all this; my comic book, which I have devoted more than two years of my energy and resources to, is gaining steam. I have a plan that could provide me with all the capital I need to finish the job-- a sum that is everything to me, and possibly very little to others.

It feels as if I'm pussyfooting. Hesitating. I'm not closing the deal. While caution is absolutely necessary, this feels like borderline inertia. A mis-step should be avoided-- and I'm doing everything I can to do exactly that-- but what will I be able to say, at week's end? That I found more work? That I accomplished the things I needed to accomplish? That I tried?

Fear of failure has always been a motivator for me; but right now I feel shackled to it. Tomorrow is going to be important on at least two levels that have nothing to do with my current job; to say nothing of my writing. It's crucial these things go well.

And I'm afraid. There's nothing more I can do right now regarding either of them; so worrying about them won't achieve anything. Not a blessed thing.

At the most basic level, I'm grateful for the following:
* I have a family that-- while a fair distance away-- loves and supports me.
* I have instincts, drives and talents that have gotten me this far.
* I have ambition.
* I believe I can do this well.

For all the wind in my sails that those first three things contribute; ultimately they mean nothing without the fourth. I have to believe I can do this well: Write, achieve, find for myself the resources I need.

Otherwise... what is the point?

Repeating Old Mistakes

I'm not especially proud of the last 24 hours. I thought I was keeping track of my finances better; and with one omission that I'd neglected to literally take into account, I'm out a nasty sum in overdraft fees.

Damn. This is not the first time something like this has happened, but it will hopefully be the last.

Work has been especially taxing, lately. I'm not making the kind of progress that's required of me. It's only because (I think) I remind my boss of a young him that I currently have a job. I cannot afford to screw things up, here.

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when it happened; but some time in the last year things got harder. More challenging, yes, but the opportunities for success and its due rewards likewise expanded. I think. I hope. I really want to believe there's some balance to be found between the amount of effort I'm making and the possible positive outcomes.

I have to stop repeating the same mistakes. I won't grow, I won't have learned my lesson until I do.

In the past two weeks I've given a good deal of thought to quitting. (I never said I wasn't stupid.) I'm under more scrutiny than I've ever been before, and the ego has taken a number of blows that will likely turn out to build f*cking character. I have more responsibility than I asked for, but I am learning. This feels like the first time that learning has been so extremely unpleasant an experience.

I've been working on a screenplay for the past 7 days. As of last night, I had 60 good pages; which is unheard of for me-- I've never written anything this fast. I could have gotten more done tonight; but I let the stresses of the day get to me and now my focus is lost. Will I get it back tonight? It doesn't seem likely.

Now what? I made choices that brought me to this place, in this time. Some of them were good and right, but a lot of them were very poor.

I'm conflicted. Very conflicted. I'm tempted to go for a walk, despite the ongoing rain. I could use the chance to stretch my legs. I could use the chance to think.

Too often I've indulged in habits because they were comfortable. I'm now (and have been) at the point where they are proving to be detrimental. It's nothing I didn't know. I just... didn't worry about the consequences. I put them off. I can very much believe that I was this stupid.

Something is coming. It's on the periphery, on the horizon, but something is coming. It's up to me to determine what's in it. Good or bad, great or small... Time will tell.

Ciao for now, folks. More to follow.