Am I Really Here?

As I’ve been gradually becoming accustomed to life in Auburndale, Florida—that wonderful place which “steals your soul” as a friend of mine here likes to say—I’ve come to realize that being soulless isn’t such a bad thing. Okay, it is—and it’s annoying. It’s annoying when I have to dumb down myself in order to find commonality with others; when having a beer is the only way out of the monotony of ‘real’ life. I’ve yet to see a sky rise here in town—blue-collar, working people all the way. Blue-collar rednecks with pride, goddamnit! Go ahead and think what you want. Pretend I’m full of myself and my pride has gotten to me; but I lost a sale because of my college degree. Yeah. Take that, smart asses.

I did find a bit of solace the other night in a refreshing conversation that ranged from religion to philosophy to science. Unfortunately for me, however, I was the primary speaker involved. And even worse: now everyone at the bar realizes I’m something other than what they were led to believe. I’m NOT a workingman. I’m NOT just a roofer. I really liked being just a roofer.

But really, it may just pan out for me. A girl about three years my junior listened carefully to me and the man six years my senior for a few hours at least. And she liked what she heard. And she expressed it. And she asked me out. So, if nothing else, I’ve gained another person to talk to about such subjects and not about roofing, the weather, and sports.

I won’t be going home for Christmas this year. What with the tumultuous time I had over thanksgiving, I simply don’t think I can bare it. My parents don’t seem to mind much—they understand I’m busy. And hell, I haven’t even had time to order them gifts! Today was the first time I’ve had some time to myself in awhile. I didn’t have any appointments today; and I’m sure we won’t be too busy until after the year. This will give me some time to play catch up with personal endeavors of mine (getting more organized, dealing with taxes, buying some clothes, and so much more).

I’m not quite sure why I keep typing and typing away. As little as I update, I’m not sure anyone really pays much attention to just another anonymous kook on the Internet anymore. But it’s actually been fairly therapeutic. I really ought to do this more often. But this time I’m not promising. Adios for now.

Peter Sellers, Andy Bell, and an Unrecognized Ex-Fiancée

Sunday evening I was struck with a bit of luck in that I happened to turn on HBO just minutes before the premiere of The Life and Death of Peter Sellers, an HBO film, obviously about the actor. Geoffrey Rush'’s performance is utterly breathtaking, and at many, many, many instances, I could have sworn he really was Inspector Jacques Clouseau or Dr. Strangelove. What’s so fascinating about the film is Rush not only plays Mr. Sellers’ various characters, but also plays the characters around him—his mother, his father, his wives, his friends and co-workers—playing on the idea that Sellers never really had a persona all his own; but instead, an embodiment of the characters from his films. A brief informational segment subsequent to the film itself, suggested that Mr. Sellers actually chose the films he acted in, based on current events in his lifetime; thusly mirroring his characters.

Two days have gone by and I’ve had a few unique dreams. A few evenings ago, Andy Bell and Vince Clarke of Erasure were serving me drinks at their bar. Andy was wearing some sort of flamboyant get up which exposed his chest and Vince was running around pouring drinks behind the bar. It was as if they had leapt from reality into my dream zone. Andy even gave me a copy of his newest album that hadn’t been released yet.

Along the way to the bar, I continually attempted to dodge my ex-fiancée. Oddly enough, I have no idea who she is or whom she resembles. She’s simply a figment of my already forgotten imagination. Perhaps something of an echo of a dream, rather than that substance we all recall as we just awaken. I do remember crawling through tunnels and moving construction barrels around in order to block her path as she ventured closer and closer. I noticed her at the bar as I spoke with my dear friend, Andy, but ignored her presence.

Last night I dreamed of yet another lady in my life. She too is unrecognizable—though, I remember her being entirely not my type. But she supported me with love, a caring family, somewhere real in a state that was foreign to me, and above all other things, she supported me with food. She cooked constantly and I was always eating. I walked by a movie theater at one point and asked a clerk there whether or not I could go in and make my own movie. He, of course, said “yes” and so I walked into the dark theater. I began to think about what my movie would be and I saw my girlfriend and her family sitting in one of the front rows. I smiled and shut my eyes for only a moment or two. When I opened them, I knew that a long time had past and that my movie had already been made.

Chevy Chase and Kurt Russell congratulated me on a job well done, as James Spader and Snoop Doggy Dogg spoke amongst themselves. Many actors and actresses and musicians and famous people of the same ilk, crowded around the theater and were all talking about this great film I’d made. I can’t even remember all the celebrities that were there, but it all felt so normal. Like I’d knew all along that this was bound to happen.

So I suppose I’m destined to have many ex-fiancées and meet extraordinary people along the way. Perhaps at sometime in my life, I will be extraordinary as well.

The Long Drive Home

Hello all. I'm back in Florida now and back to working. I came down with the flu over Thanksgiving, so it set me back a few days later than I had originally anticipated coming back. The drive was long and arduous, but halfway through the trip, I stopped in at my cousin Michael's in Pensacola, Florida. It was nice to see him and his wife again, after so many years. It was also nice seeing the ocean for the first time in over a decade. What wasn't so nice was being pulled over for traveling ninety-seven in a seventy--and apparently being clocked by an "air craft." Oh well. It's only money I suppose (*grumbles*).

I'm still not set up on the DSL network, here at the office, since both me and Phil have no working knowledge of how the phone lines are set up here, and neither of us care enough, nor have the time, to attempt to figure the system out. So, in the meantime, I'm simply using his computer, which is directly hooked up to the DSL. At some point I hope to be updating more regularly.