please save the baby

so, once again, i am the youngest person at my job. not just the youngest teacher, but the youngest out of everybody, including custodians, paraprofessionals, and cafeteria staff. i thought that, maybe, just maybe, turning 23 this year would grant the opportunity for some poor 21 or 22 year old to skate in and take the position, but alas, all of our new teachers are older and have more experience.

at this point, i am affectionately known as "the baby" among some of my co-workers.

don't get me wrong though, it has it's perks. i get hugs and kisses from all of the lady teachers, some of which ain't really THAT much older than me. hence, when we go to the bars and clubs, i'm grown enough to cut it close on the dance floor with them, but still young enough to not really take it that seriously. so the husbands are cool see.

(except for this one time at this spanish joint. but we were drunk and had already psuedo kissed a cherry between our mouths. consequently, her husband let me know, quite discreetly, that he could whip my ass. but that's another blog altogether.)

and so, with one year of teaching under my belt, i set off for year 2 at Hogwarts. there are bound to be new challenges, new friends, new enemies, and new adventures. and around every corner and beneath every rock, lurks the ever looming threat of he-who-must-not-be-named.

or not.

special sauce

I just called Papa Johns to order a pizza, and they told me they didn't have any garlic sauce.

Now, I'm not one to complain. Yet, even if I were the type to complain, I would still probably begin by saying that I was the type that wasn't. And with all things considered, I reckon that this could even fall under the category of not being a complaint, or vice versa. In any case, I feel as though it must be stated that the garlic sauce at Papa Johns is one of the very components that defines the restaurant as an establishment of quality, and hence, the lack thereof must, in some degree, obstruct the progress that any and all companies hope to attain and fulfill. There can be no growth without the sauce.

This brings me to the very intricacies of vitality that people seem to overlook. What minute details define us in such a way that we are nothing without it? What idiosyncrasies and characteristics identify us to the point that we are tolerable, or intolerable? These quirks may be the very mannerisms that make us likeable or fun to be around some, while simultaneously being the very traits that make others not stand us at all.

I tend to flush the toilet half-piss.

The details of self are often taken for granted until they are gone. How the hell does Papa Johns NOT have garlic sauce. Without it, I don't even want the pizza. And yet with it, it never tends to be quite enough. Amongst each other, I doubt seriously that anyone has the defining attribute of always having an italian condiment handy, but there are indeed others. It could easily be someone's smile, or laughter. It could be the way someone holds your hand or the way they squint their nose. It could be the way they carry themselves, or the way they speak their mind. It could be the way they talk, or listen.

Take time today to comment on someone's behavior that you find uniquely tied to them; one that you could not bear them without. Tell them how you treasure it, or even despise it. Tell them what you think. One day it will be gone. You will come to them and find that they have lost their garlic sauce, never to find it again. Or, in some instances, there won't be any pizza at all. Tell that person today what about them means the most to you. That way, they'll always have it in stock.




and cut! thank you! that was my take at inspirational writing. throw a bible verse in there and you may find this sitting on your grandma's bathroom counter, in a small booklet like "daily bread", or "everyday meditation". have a nice day, i'm going to eat my stupid pizza.

screenplay

i've always considered myself to be a movie buff, and as such, people have often asked why i haven't pursued something in entertainment. possibly a film critic, or acting. the truth is, i don't watch every movie that comes out, and i tried the acting thing - let's just say that it's not really for me.

yet, at 3 in the morning, i think i have settled on a career i may take up if i were to fancy the idea of the film industry. i would soley want to be a writer. be it a television show, movie, whatever. if i were to go my own path and venture off into tinseltown, i would have 3 scripts in my hand and $20 in my back pocket. hell, i moved to new york city with less.

that only leaves me to ponder how many people may actually be in hollywood with scripts galore in their pocket. that worries me. yet, at the same time, it doesn't. all anyone ever needs in this country is an idea. granted, knowing the right people and having a mountain of cash helps speed things up, but in the long run, an idea is an idea. and that's all we need these days.

am i going to work on a script now? of course not. hell, i've yet to buy the guitar i said i was gonna get a year ago. one thing at a time. sheesh. not to mention the book i said i was gonna write. (part of this realization is the admittance that i was only going to write a book so that it could become widely popular and be turned into a movie)...who knows.

each day i become more and more eager to learn what will become of me. i'm eager to learn what will happen when i come across something that will be my life. my entire life. i mean, i am a teacher, and i like being a teacher. and if i become a good teacher, and live to be a teacher forever, then i'm pleased. but i believe there's more. i believe i have some unimaginable gift that i have yet to uncover, that i have yet to fully tap. and the more i search for it, the closer i know i'm getting. i feel it everywhere. in everything i do. in everything i see. in every aspect of my life, i extract some meaning that's not there, some sign that can't possibly be meant for me...and i interpret it as a glowing marker that i'm close now. i'm getting closer and closer to the essense of my life. no, wait, "getting" is not the right word. i'm growing closer. and though that's not what i mean to say, it feels better saying it that way. it feels more appropriate. i'm growing towards my destiny, my fate, my KA. and with that, my anticipation grows, and i may even get excited at random intervals during the day.

how can i even express this?

it's more than just thinking about writing a tv show. that's not it. i don't know what it is. and it's coming in such a way that i know i'm not going to know until it's here. it's pakaged that way. as if i pakaged it myself, and then extracted it from my on damned memory. but i can't shake the feeling. it overcomes me often now. writing the last 8 lines or so, for instance, flowed from my fingers effortlessly, and relentlessly rapid. the words came out from force as if they were pinned up in the palms of my hands for days. not knowing what it was they were to write about, but just the notion of writing about that which my very soul craves - the being which i am to become. that which i am to be delivered to. it's...it's...i know what to describe it as, but i'm hesitant to say.

about a year ago, i had a dream that i was slowly walking up a staircase of fire. and with every step i took the fire followed me. it grew. and it consumed everything that lay in the path behind. i did not look back. nor did i look up. i just looked directly ahead, at each step as it came to me. but even then, i wasn't looking at the step. i was distant, as if my mind were elsewhere, thinking. and as i thought, i walked. slowly. deliberately. with the wild, red flames blzing on both sides of me. i walked and walked, and though i was going nowhere i could see, i felt extremely pleased walking. it felt like it was what i was supposed to be doing. it felt like it had purpose. it felt like it had meaning. it was powerful.

and once again, i start talking about one thing, and it leads to another. so, i guess, saying all this to say, um...i should buy that guitar.