No Love Lost

I'm lying in bed listening to a podcast. Oh, I'm really into podcasts now, thanks for asking. Well I'm into one podcast, I've been listening to "Jay and Silent Bob Get Old". It's pretty good, the first podcasts document Jason Mewes' long and storied history with drug abuse. He was clean for several years and secretly relapsed. The whole thing is about his recovery and how Jay and Silent Bob are middle-age now. It started in 2010 and I've been playing catch up. A lot of the newer episodes devolve into Kevin and Jason reminiscing about growing up in Jersey but it's usually good for a listen. It's also interesting catching up with them now since I fell out of the View Askew loop once I graduated high school. Also what with my recent birthday and all I enjoy hearing someone a little older talk about what it's like actually getting older.

I'm officially going to Ireland, I'll be spending the entire month of July in Armagh! I'm going to be there with some kids (I don't mean youthful school chums, these people are all younger than me are therefor "kids") from my screenwriting class and our professor Kimberley Lynne. Thank Kabbalah monster that Prof. Lynne is one bad bitch. As far as teachers go she's a hell of a lot of fun. I know a couple of the other students going. Victoria is a very tiny, pixie-ish black girl who is very cool. This other girl Kerrin is going as well. She's a lot more fun than her Skrillex haircut lets on. All three of us are officers in the brand new UB film club. I'm the treasurer even though I told the other members that there's a 99% chance that I will embezzle any and all funds. At least it's something to put on my resume which is discouragingly accomplishment and accolade free.

That raises a new concern that has taken residence in my brain (which is already filled to capacity with Kardashian plot lines and antiquated youth slang). I met with my adviser last week to plan the rest of my college career. It's with a heavy heart that I divulge that my trusted adviser Daniel Page was promoted and will no longer be available to hold my academic hand in an official context. My new adviser is a woman named Karen King-Sheridan. She seems very capable and was able to help me set up my fall schedule. News flash: the only thing standing between me and graduation is 5 classes, an internship, and 5 bullshit participation activities (seriously WTF? UB, what more can I give?!). Now that the end is in sight and I'm officially in my mid-20's the magnitude of my previous indiscretions has finally hit home. I'm not a kid anymore and its terrifying. Very soon I'm going to be thrust into the real world with nary a safety net nor a single idea of how to be a functional adult. I'm really counting on my forthcoming internship to help assuage my fears of entering the work force. At the very least I can live on the fringe of society as some kind of "artist" (insert: drug dealer, prostitute...thespian) if the whole "responsible, career minded adult" doesn't work out.

I've been thinking about writing a lot lately. I've always had this pipe dream that I could make it as a professional writer but it wasn't something that I thought would become a reality. When life gets too hard or dull or real I escape to a fantasy world where I'm essentially me, just a successful writer version of me. That's rich...and famous...and has an amazing body. And yes dear reader I always thought that this was a ridiculous notion as well, however, having spent some time working on a screenplay over the past couple months it hasn't seemed as crazy as usual. Dare I say it's become almost feasible? I don't want to get ahead of myself but I'm learning a lot about writing this year and I'm enjoying writing for the first time in I don't even know how long. I guess that's part of the reason I abandoned my previous blog "The Comeback Kid". I wasn't interested by what I was writing and I certainly didn't like the way I was writing it. I wanted it to be confessional but it came off as detached. I was worried about what the people reading it would think so I tried to be impartial and it's impossible to be compellingly honest while simultaneously revealing nothing of consequence. It didn't help that the closest I could get to raw, emotional honesty were vague posts comprised mostly of song lyrics, mediocre poetry, and fragmented stream of conscious thoughts. The end result was not even close to what I had imagined. Alas, as I know all too well sometimes all you need is a fresh perspective. Well I certainly have one now.

For probably the 666th time I've entered a new phase in my life. Quelle surprise, right? This one feels different though, a little more permanent. Almost like an extension of something that was already there but wasn't quite ready yet. I think that finally, after 25 years and more crazy bullshit and shenanigans than any one person has any right to partake in, I might just be growing up after all.