Being unemployed is hard. Well, duh. Know what that can be worse? Being unemployable with an overpriced University education and crushing debt which will take me at least a decade to pay off, more so if said unemployment continue. Some people graduate with presents showered upon them like a reward for going through a terrible hardship. Others hold on to the end, the Walk as the solo reward for not falling apart or giving in to stress induced eating disorders, socially and financially induced mental/emotional problems or escapism of the drug and alcoholic kinds.
Even so, these doesn't matter. It seems to me that the real test of one's strength and sanity comes not from trying to graduate but from trying to get one's life started after all that tedious preparation.
Before I went to University, I had a Diploma in Film production. I then went on to secure a pretty decent job in a Post production house. But yet I still dreamed of working in the business side of Television. However it was impossible because I didn't have a BFA. So I was faced with a dilemma. Should I stay with my fast rising career in the post production industry as I had mastered all the specific technical skills or shall I take a chance, get heavily in debt and pursue a BFA which is the supposed gateway to more lucrative and desirable opportunities?
I honestly think that an education is necessary as Knowledge is power. I've learned how American politics work, which in turn allow me to be better informed when making decisions about things affecting my life. I've learned to be a better person to other people from all the blunders from unfamiliar socializing events/situations. I've learned self control and mental discipline when it comes to temptations. I know I'm lucky, I appreciate all I've been allowed to experience and I know I'll land on my feet regardless. Plenty of mistakes were made when I was in University but none I regret for priceless life lessons were learned but this current wasteland of dying hopes after countless cover letters and job applications might just do me in. I already have the ambition and the dedication - which is part of my genetic programming as exemplified by my relentless hunting - and have acquired the skills and the education, yet it seems it's not enough. I am extremely grateful to even be able to go to college yet right now, I can't help feeling indignant that it is costing me so much already both financially and mentally which makes my biggest fear about it continuing to do so till I no longer see the decision I made years ago as something I do not regret.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
And then there were two
Last Monday, my favorite CW show moved from its 9pm slot to 8pm, thereby forcing me to decide between it and HOUSE on FOX. I was annoyed. In an unemployed world where life is dreary and friends' recent conversations failing to jolt my bored senses, these two television shows are the closest things resembling a form of a challenge to my masochistic brain. Yes, some people may say that I should start finding offscreen/real life/actual human forms of debate and interaction. I'll have you know that I am mildly successful in that department but one's opinion of insight towards an external subject ironically also tells a little too much about the internal workings of one's mind which can be easily twisted by well meaning but preconceiving friends. Sometimes it's nicer with a blank slate when you just want to try figure out an answer to a question instead of trying to manage expectations.
And so, when "Life Unexpected" opened up with a montage of Cate getting out of bed and spontaneously packing up reminders (loving photos and heart-shaped trinkets) of Ryan, the first thing that stuck me was...the big tin box in which everything was put in and then left in the closet. It wasn't just a simple brown cardboard box or a box that was originally used to pack plates. This box was unique, well kept and actually lying somewhere in the house, ready to be used someday. Like a crazy person, I asked her/my tv, "Where did that tin box come from?" Near the end of the episode, Ryan has an epiphany and asks Cate the next question I was planning to ask her/my tv, "The real question is, what the hell is wrong with you?" Now, let me just say that the closet feminist in me really DO NOT LIKE it when in tvland it seems that the female is always the one who screwed up (in this case, Cate cheated via drunk/tipsy sex with another consenting male who is the father of her possibly-one-night-stand-child and said male was unaware of the existence of her BF/fiancé aka Ryan) but this affliction, offscreen, is gender-blind. Ryan (or rather, the screenwriter) articulated it perfectly - "Don't bother trying to fix us Cate, just fix yourself."
People screw up. That's a given fact of life. No one is perfect and most of the time, no one really knows why they screwed up. Life is not an episode of HOUSE. People don't magically understand their own labyrinth of intentions, desires and fears perfectly. The lucky ones figure out why they screwed up. The smart ones learn from it, albeit after the fact. The well adjusted ones don't do it again. I wish I were all three about all my own screw ups. I believe that screwing up is just being human. But if one goes into something preparing oneself to screw up, preparing a big tin box somewhere in one's mind, that's when one needs some fixing.
So please, until you do or at least start to do, don't get into another relationship. Everyone has their own shit to deal with, making them deal with yours is unfair, cruel and selfish. Two had been hurt already, don't make it three.
And so, when "Life Unexpected" opened up with a montage of Cate getting out of bed and spontaneously packing up reminders (loving photos and heart-shaped trinkets) of Ryan, the first thing that stuck me was...the big tin box in which everything was put in and then left in the closet. It wasn't just a simple brown cardboard box or a box that was originally used to pack plates. This box was unique, well kept and actually lying somewhere in the house, ready to be used someday. Like a crazy person, I asked her/my tv, "Where did that tin box come from?" Near the end of the episode, Ryan has an epiphany and asks Cate the next question I was planning to ask her/my tv, "The real question is, what the hell is wrong with you?" Now, let me just say that the closet feminist in me really DO NOT LIKE it when in tvland it seems that the female is always the one who screwed up (in this case, Cate cheated via drunk/tipsy sex with another consenting male who is the father of her possibly-one-night-stand-child and said male was unaware of the existence of her BF/fiancé aka Ryan) but this affliction, offscreen, is gender-blind. Ryan (or rather, the screenwriter) articulated it perfectly - "Don't bother trying to fix us Cate, just fix yourself."
People screw up. That's a given fact of life. No one is perfect and most of the time, no one really knows why they screwed up. Life is not an episode of HOUSE. People don't magically understand their own labyrinth of intentions, desires and fears perfectly. The lucky ones figure out why they screwed up. The smart ones learn from it, albeit after the fact. The well adjusted ones don't do it again. I wish I were all three about all my own screw ups. I believe that screwing up is just being human. But if one goes into something preparing oneself to screw up, preparing a big tin box somewhere in one's mind, that's when one needs some fixing.
So please, until you do or at least start to do, don't get into another relationship. Everyone has their own shit to deal with, making them deal with yours is unfair, cruel and selfish. Two had been hurt already, don't make it three.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Of Mice and Love
I have a friend. She can be quite the asshole, even to her friends at times. But I've always looked up to her because she's brave, fearless and beneath the asshole exterior, she's actually pretty just and sound in her convictions.
However, 4 years ago she got tangled up in a rather messy romantic predicament. The other day I called her and guess what? Status quo. Which made me wonder.
Why do people - smart strong and sturdy people - become blinded little mice when it comes to affairs of the heart (and/or chase of the orgasm?)
Let's talk about affairs of the heart in this case shall we? So some people call this phenomenon "Love" or rather, "Falling in Love." Ever since Man was able to sing, tell stories and write, epic songs, teary movies and cryptic poems of Love have been forced into existence. I don't think I need to repeat all the different types of reactions towards Love because it will take me probably a few more blog posts than blogger.com can handle. But one thing is common. It makes people...different from their usual self. It makes them way too happy, it hurts way too much and it changes them.
And that scare the shit out of me. Has anyone not gone through their teenage years, struggling with puberty and for the first time in their life trying to figure out their identity? The fundamental question of "Who am I?" resonate in our everyday life through our actions, our thoughts and our reactions to situations. When someone asks you who you are, do you say "I'm JW, college graduate." or do you say "I'm JW, 24." or do you say "I'm JW, girls frighten me." Remember when all these started? Yes, that moment of self awareness when you realized that you are not a jock or a cheerleader but neither are you the science geek or a social misfit. You were in fact the sporty friendly runner AND the antsy "woe is me and this cruel world" artist. Now, a homeless man asks you for change. Do you ignore his existence and walk away? What a jerk. Do you stop and talk to him? Wow, how kind. Do you give him all your change and more? Dude, schmuck much? All these little things you do tells you so much about who you are and who you don't want to be. It has taken you forever to somewhat figure out who you are and be somehow semi well adjusted with your identity when suddenly one day...
A person enters your life.
And you realized you started doing things you thought you will never do. You start saying mushy stuff in public ("It makes me all mushy inside my heart that you got jealous like that"), you start canceling on friends the last minute (thereby being a total DOUCHEBAG for breaking the BRO CODE) just because he/she wanted to see you and you spend a month's worth of income on an anniversary present. (so much money on anything that's not essential is vulgar no matter what.)
And that's the good part of it. Which is totally fine should it sit well in your soul and it makes you happy but when things go wrong, that's when you realize who you are. Do you do things he/she doesn't like on purpose just to get a reaction out of him/her? Do you let the lie slip? Do you risk letting her/him hurt you again after he/she apologizes? How do you deal with such... adversariness? Nothing can be more confusing than when dealing with matters of pain that is also a subject of affection.
Would the 'old' you choose the same choices? If not, then who are you now? Do you like who you've become? Are you really who you've become? Have you become a blinded little mouse or were you one all along?
However, 4 years ago she got tangled up in a rather messy romantic predicament. The other day I called her and guess what? Status quo. Which made me wonder.
Why do people - smart strong and sturdy people - become blinded little mice when it comes to affairs of the heart (and/or chase of the orgasm?)
Let's talk about affairs of the heart in this case shall we? So some people call this phenomenon "Love" or rather, "Falling in Love." Ever since Man was able to sing, tell stories and write, epic songs, teary movies and cryptic poems of Love have been forced into existence. I don't think I need to repeat all the different types of reactions towards Love because it will take me probably a few more blog posts than blogger.com can handle. But one thing is common. It makes people...different from their usual self. It makes them way too happy, it hurts way too much and it changes them.
And that scare the shit out of me. Has anyone not gone through their teenage years, struggling with puberty and for the first time in their life trying to figure out their identity? The fundamental question of "Who am I?" resonate in our everyday life through our actions, our thoughts and our reactions to situations. When someone asks you who you are, do you say "I'm JW, college graduate." or do you say "I'm JW, 24." or do you say "I'm JW, girls frighten me." Remember when all these started? Yes, that moment of self awareness when you realized that you are not a jock or a cheerleader but neither are you the science geek or a social misfit. You were in fact the sporty friendly runner AND the antsy "woe is me and this cruel world" artist. Now, a homeless man asks you for change. Do you ignore his existence and walk away? What a jerk. Do you stop and talk to him? Wow, how kind. Do you give him all your change and more? Dude, schmuck much? All these little things you do tells you so much about who you are and who you don't want to be. It has taken you forever to somewhat figure out who you are and be somehow semi well adjusted with your identity when suddenly one day...
A person enters your life.
And you realized you started doing things you thought you will never do. You start saying mushy stuff in public ("It makes me all mushy inside my heart that you got jealous like that"), you start canceling on friends the last minute (thereby being a total DOUCHEBAG for breaking the BRO CODE) just because he/she wanted to see you and you spend a month's worth of income on an anniversary present. (so much money on anything that's not essential is vulgar no matter what.)
And that's the good part of it. Which is totally fine should it sit well in your soul and it makes you happy but when things go wrong, that's when you realize who you are. Do you do things he/she doesn't like on purpose just to get a reaction out of him/her? Do you let the lie slip? Do you risk letting her/him hurt you again after he/she apologizes? How do you deal with such... adversariness? Nothing can be more confusing than when dealing with matters of pain that is also a subject of affection.
Would the 'old' you choose the same choices? If not, then who are you now? Do you like who you've become? Are you really who you've become? Have you become a blinded little mouse or were you one all along?
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