A New Hope
So I got offered a new job. Its going to be awesome. I'm going to be a bounty hunter. I'm the equivalent of a little kid who wants to be a fire fighter or a horse or a dump truck driver whose dreams have come true. I feel like the ugly duckling who has turned into a swan, only instead of a swan, I'm a guy who hunts other human beings for money with weapons, cunning, and intrigue.
I never know what I mean
Things fall apart sometimes. Sometimes it seems like everything will always be a little bit out of place. Sometimes however, you can remember that lucky turns of fate do exist, and sometimes they come looking for you, and they find you, and they shove you onto a path, and they hand you someone to travel down it with, and things seem alright.
Sometimes you find things between your floorboards. Eventually you light your last cigarette. Other times you reach for a telephone, but then forget who you were even calling. Occasionally your power goes out, and then comes right back on, and you feel relief when you remember that you did pay the bill, and that the storm outside must be causing the blackout. Once I woke up because someone was in my room, and then I remembered who it was, and went back to sleep. One day I want to realise in mid sentence that I don't understand what I am talking about. Another day a doctor will find something that he doesn't want to.
Sometimes you should open your mouth only when your eyes are closed.
Just because I am looking at you doesn't mean I'm listening to you. Sometimes I'm just looking at you.
Party Like Its 1899
My dad writes books on networking (not the computer kind) and meeting planning and motivational stuff. He asked me at one point to design his web page and book cover for his new book. I just stumbled across one of the book cover designs I did, and although I think its eye-catching, somehow I don't think it applied to the demographic his publishers were shooting for. I can't imagine why.
His book is titled "The Heart of Networking" and its available now for you up and coming suit wearing types.
What Is Orange and Yellow and Looks Good on a Hippie?
I just was permanently awoken from my sleep (a good four hours before necessary) by a very strange and upsetting dream. It all took place in the vicinity of a bar I work in in Athens, GA.
At first things seemed okay. People were hanging out after working, having some drinks, and everything was grand. Various people were there; employees, high school classmates, a historical figure, (regular dream appearance-makers) and oddly enough, and I am definitely not making this up:
Wil Wheaton in his full Star Trek outfit.
In reality, Wil Wheaton sort of started the night on its downhill tumble. After stealing my "Frequent Roller Card" which entitles me to a free burrito at the burrito restuarant across the street from the bar, which I incidentaly ate a burrito from when I was at work, Wil threw the card to a bunch of pseudo hippie bums. One grabbed it, and after yelling some mildly coherent anti-capitalist propaganda got the sense beaten out of him by bouncers at the bar next door. They beat him until his eyeball fell out. I have never seen anyone get their eyeball knocked out of their heads, but I'm pretty sure it would be a lot like how it happened last night.
As I ran across the bar to break up the fight, all of the sudden a bunch of what appeared to be Mexican revolutionaries stormed the bar, dousing everything with gasoline, and sealing off the exits. Panic ensued, as did gun shots from the Zapatistas or whatever the hell kind of group wants to storm a shitty frat bar and burn it to the ground in a beautiful pyre of flip flops, swishy skirts and camo hats. If I had to guess based on their conduct alone, I would say they were probably ex-employees, except I know that the owners of the bar would never hire non-white employees.
The point of the dream, as I see it is this: I know that there happens to be a fire door that is no longer in service on the top floor of the bar. I could choose to either alert as many bar patrons as possible to this fact and risk being shot by the siegers, or just run to the upstairs and never look back. I woke up right before making my decision.
Is this dream a subconcious effort to make me decide whether or not I want to hold on to this job or look for other employment? Is this my mind's way of saying that too much violence, blood, anger, sweat, deceit and intimidation surround my work environment, and that I am over educated and underpaid for the stupid people and ridiculous scenarious I have to endure? Or is the dream about my own desire to help people being outweighed by my desire for self-preservation? Or is it a commentary on how the inevitable end result of commerce and capitalism, in its truest sense, is bloody revolution, and a perspective on the necessity for Everyman to decide between attempting to preserve the status quo, and risk the personal consequences therein, or preserve oneself at the risk of allowing the system, and thus other people's way of life, perish. Or is it only just a way of telling me not to let Wil Wheaton hold my "frequent burrito eater guy" card? I always suck at self evaluations.
