Jeremy's Ramblings, Babblings, and Other Pretentious Bullshit.
Monday, June 21, 2004
I'm probably not going to say anything profound in the following entry, but I just felt like reflecting on a moment captured. I don't know if anyone else has this, but every so often I have moments where I just stop and reflect at how the various pieces that I have gathered over the years to form what I call "my life" have converged into one singular moment. That moment was this morning. I'm sitting in a cubicle in Orange County, staring out the window at the perfect-for-visiting-the-ocean weather, and my Toyota Echo parked dutifully below. Enough work to fill three-quarters of my day sits in front of me, rows of seven-digit numbers, each representing another person that's going to lose their property for not making their payments, stare at me expectantly (in my own very small way, I help those people lose their property just a little faster. Frank Capra would be proud). My tie has drama masks on it, and my socks have a screaming Jack Skellington from "Nightmare Before Christmas". These two small articles are the only things distinct about my outfit. A half-full (or half-empty, depending on how you look at it) environmentally-dangerous styrofoam cup of environmentally-friendly peppermint tea sits next to me (I just took a hurried gulp of it upon coming to this realization. I don't think tea was made to be hurriedly gulped). On the screen, hiding quietly behind my work is a Notepad application with an unfinished stage play just waiting to be developed. A pair of old uncomfortable headphones are wrapped around my skull, and I listen to Matt Dillon reading me Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" (which is better than the alternative, several keyboards being pounded and horrible muzak or already horrible 70's movie themes). I'd love to go on a road trip similar to the one Mr. Dillon is narrating to me (I was disappointed upon hearing the voice for the first time, because I mistakently thought it was Matt DAMON who was reading it. No matter, Mr. Dillon's delivery is has the perfect deadpan surfer inflection necessary for the work of Kerouac), but I would need to quit my job, which means I wouldn't have money, and come to think of it, I don't even have enough money to begin with to go on a road trip (my sister suggested to me yesterday that I "experience more life if you want to be a writer", to which I could only respond with a remarkably profound and moving "Yeah"). So I continue to drink tea, listen to books on CD/liberal talk radio/whatever CD I bought this week, read/write scripts, and help people lose their homes, meanwhile trying not to pay attention to the attractive smart-looking women in my office, due to one, my social awkwardness, two, possible sexual harrassment suits, and three, my recent vow of celibacy. Ladies and gentlemen, this is my life.

I had a dream that I actually remember (which is not often) and that didn't involve me going to see a movie (which is both frequent and frustrating. I can see a movie any time. Why would I want to see one in my dream?). I went to an audition for some sort of musical something. However, I did not know what it was I was auditioning for, only that I felt I needed to audition for it. I came unprepared and feverishly flipped through the song book in my hands, looking for the perfect audition song. Then a theatre friend of mine from back in my Idaho days went up on stage and started singing "I Still Believe" from "Miss Saigon" (which is a woman's song, but my friend is gay, so it seemed fitting). I then decided to choose "The Last Night of the World", also from "Miss Saigon" as my song (what's with my obssession with "Miss Saigon"? I don't even like the show all that much), and then started worrying about how I was going to hit the high notes, and how I was going to cover for not having a woman to sing the song with. Then, as if to answer me, a guy and a girl suddenly jumped on stage and started singing the other parts of the song with my friend (which in retrospect is weird because it's only a two-girl song with no guys in it, but whatever). So then I realized I could have a partner for my song, but it made me question even more what this audition was about. I woke up before I got to go up on stage, or even find out what the hell I was auditioning for. Dream interpreters, anyone?

Hey Gablester, your starting to make me feel kind of bad for you, your posting like your totally bored and stuff and in a rut.

Perk up dude! Take a flight up here and kick it in Idaho for a little while with your buddies...or whatever, just call me 208-772-1944 - do it, or I will send a midget to your house and give you a wedgie!

http://matthewgardner.blogspot.com - READ IT and WEEP!
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