Delayed Reactions

I keep waiting for the shockwave.

That’s got to be why I’ve kept so busy since the end of June. Not that life hasn’t done it’s best to help with adding onto the To Do List constantly. Fighting your way out of an NG tends to be consuming.

So I’ve been attacking the job hunt like never before. Feelers and emails and calls out to in NY (because that’s where I am at the moment and money needs to be made) in RI and MA (since that’s where I just was and I’ve still got a huge support network there) and VA/DC/MD (because that’s where I want to be). Hell, I’ve added several others to the list, but those would take Dream Job type offers right now.

The slim(er), sexy(er) me has been happy to launch an major offensive on chubby, cuddly me. Not that I’m ever going to be a small person (think linebacker shoulders). 10 pounds in three weeks. And I’m feeling it. Feeling lighter, fitter, more eager to do anything and everything. Working out most days and cutting back on what I’m eating (easy to do considering where I am and the lack of influence I have on the menu) is helping, but I know it is equal parts something I’ve needed to do and something I need to do now.

And of course, the writing. Here and on Big Project #2. BP#1 is on the shelf right now because I’ve got friends, we’ll call them the Muses, who have connections. Connections that could make BP#2 into Realized Dream#2. So I’ve been hacking away at that and tossing ideas into the mental rock tumbler here to get things moving.

Add to this the need to juggle finances (in case I do get a new gig in the next few weeks and have to move… again), driving up and down the east coast for interviews and various moving projects (mine and others) and the general insanity of the past month and I know why the shockwave hasn’t hit yet.

My mind, the logical part of my being, understands the situation. It is doing its best to plan so many things right now that it has put it in a file marked TBD and just keeps reminding itself and the rest of me that there are many other things that have to be dealt with before we can fully embrace it.

Various other parts of me – my imagination, my fear, my trust, my loyalty and all the other major and minor facets are doing there best to support all my other projects right now. They’re just trying to keep themselves and the big two from taking the hit.

My heart, that poor bastard. All aspects of my mind are together on this ship, going warp speed through the vastness, trying to outrun the shockwave. I think he’s too stunned to do anything but stare out the front, watching the stars zip past as the dull roar of the engines breaks the silence of the black around us. Part of him knows that the shockwave is coming.

And it will be bad.

Until then, we pour on the speed, adding power to the shields, trying desperately to come up with that last second plan to escape the damage. But if my mind is the 1st officer, focusing on the matters at hand until this is over, my heart is the captain. It has the vision to see what the damage will be, even if it hasn’t occurred yet. It sees the shockwave coming and feels the spot where it will leave its wound.

It also wonders what will be left after the shockwave settles.

Profile of a Rambling Writer

Unless you know me in the real world, odds are you stumbled here by accident. I don’t have a media agenda… Okay, that’s a lie… let’s just say I don’t have a media agenda that I’m willing to share with anyone with Google search capabilities just now.

So, while I’m not ready to reveal my media agenda, I should offer a few bits of information about the mind behind this creative outlet. This isn’t going to be a traditional biographical entry. As the blog grows and I use it more for my own thought collection, my background will certainly come out. Besides, self examination is a good thing.

So, if you haven’t picked up on the gender bias yet, I’m a male. Born in the mid-70’s, I’m a sucker for the cultural artifacts of the 80’s and early 90’s. My tendencies run deeply in the geek realm. Thankfully, I can cover that up when necessary. Problem is, I usually find those of similar plumage, and the geek flag gets raised quickly.

I come from a big family. Two-fold big, in fact. Having two complete sets makes things hard to manage. It’s like having a collection hobby. Just when you think you have a clear idea of where all the major pieces fit, something new is added or something old is revealed.

For its size, there’s not a lot of togetherness in my family. There’s love, don’t get me wrong. But there’s also stubbornness, pride and a very old school sense of ‘We don’t talk about what we feel.’ My family has roots from Depression Era immigration. When I say old school, I mean old school. My Heroine said to me that she was surprised, given my background, that I was the type of person who wanted to talk about what was going on in his life so much. I look at it this way, The Old School helps as much as it hinders. They didn’t show me how to articulate feelings, but they showed me that I had to go out and find what I wanted in life and make it happen. So I made myself a talker. Trust me, it wasn’t a big step to get there.

Another irony when it comes to my family… they adopted me. My genetic background is mixed. Bi-Racial if you prefer. Multi-Ethnic if you’re really brainwashed by PC. An Irish-Italian family from Brooklyn adopts a bi-racial kid that an unwed mother brings in off the street. If it wasn’t my own life, I’d think of it as a premise for a movie of the week, something set up to be heartwarming and uplifting. It’d gloss over any of the difficult or challenging elements of my origin and focus on how when it comes down to it, we’re all very similar.

One day, I’ll tell that story in full. Not here. For that to be real and honest, I’d have to completely unmask myself here and I’m not ready to do that.

I grew up in the Kinda-South. If you’ve ever been there, you know what I’m talking about. Went to college in the Northeast. A solid school in a town that promises much, but delivered less than I’d hoped.

There, I found my third family. My best family (so far). A collection of smart, goofy, strange and passionate people. Think of us as the Isle of Misfit Toys, but with better social skills.

After bouncing between a few of the bigger cities in the Northeast, I’m focused on moving down the coast. There’s a lot that I want down there. Levels and layers of opportunity, passion and desire.

In the meantime, I’m here, back in Awkward Central.

Any wonder why I’m writing my thoughts out this way?

Sanity may be a one trick pony, but I need that pony to help me pull my cart right now.

Dreams in the Lost in Found

Dreams are odd things. They are like relationships. They have needs. And you need to be able to understand those needs as they grow and evolve. If you’re in tune with your dreams, you’ll find ways to shift and move with them. Rough times are a certainty, but if you’re in tune, it’ll work out.

To move away from the poetical and address the practical, let’s be blunt. Dreams are about one of two things. Ambition and desire. Sometimes they stem from both, but there’s always one wrapped up in whatever it is your dream is about. You dream of being something in your professional life (ambition) and you dream of finding someone in your personal life (desire).

After The Death several years ago, I caught myself in an odd place. Most things were ng (not good) in my life, but The Death made me want to focus on my dreams. Yet the ng was really a NG, so I had to focus on getting things away from the NG and put one of the dreams on hold. I moved out of Awkward Central, back to the Bay State (and into an apartment that easily could be considered Awkward Central’s regional office) and took work that was work and focused on the ambition.

A year later and the NG had begun to shift to lower case and most things had gotten better. The Dream of Ambition had progressed, but not as much as I had wanted. Life, as it is want to do, got in the way. And I let it.

Fall of 04 led me to discover something. That while I’d put the Dream of Desire on hold, she’s a patient lass. (I say she because to me, passion – REAL passion, has a feminine face). And she found me when I wasn’t looking.

I won’t get into the details (yet) but its a damn good story. With a great female lead who is still my Heroine. She’s smart, passionate, sexy and funny. Finding her, I realized that there wasn’t much more I could have wanted out of a friend, partner or lover. Okay, stock in Google and a private island, but I really wasn’t going to complain.

Unfortunately, I’m not her hero anymore. Not even close.

Why?

Well, there are certainly things that didn’t help. The things that brought me back to Awkward Central added to the issue, but I’ve got an idea why.

I forgot one of the secrets about dreams.

They fuel each other. If you find one, you have to use it to fuel the other. Dreams have energy. More than any one thing can handle, even the original dream itself. You have to take that energy and use it elsewhere. If you keep it in one place, it’ll burn you up. If you don’t use the fire to move yourself, it will consume you. And the Dream.

I became so entranced with the Dream of Passion that I forgot the Dream of Ambition. Being loving and devoted were mistaken for being responsible and dependable. To the woman who embodied the Dream, I became nothing but A Dreamer.

Which is where the other secret of Dreams comes into play.

Dreams require you to be boring at times. Dreams require you to have all your ducks in a row. All that boring stuff – anything that makes you think of the word responsibility – has to be handled. In control. You don’t have to become an accountant, but you should know where things are, what’s going on and how to fix it when it becomes an issue. I’d started to get good at that. I had to after The Death. No one was going to change the NG but me.

But I got lost in the Dream of Passion.

Not an excuse. Just the truth.

Now… Now the NG is back and worse than before. Not because the hole is deeper, but because of the reasons why.

The Dream of Passion and her Heroine are gone. Perhaps never to return. The Dream of Ambition waits, eager and needy like a beast. And the ducks are quacking, desperately in need of a marching order.

So they’ll be no whining here. I’ll think and speak and write, mostly to myself.

I have The Plan.

Now I make it work.