Journals are meant to vent your feelings and frustrations, and even though this might look passive-aggressive to some, I'm going to vent a bit about some recent events.
So, there's this woman I once "flinged with" who called me recently about doing some writing work for her colleague. She said there'd be decent money involved and, as a freelancer, my ears perked up. But then she mentioned the ideas this guy wanted to pursue and I began to see immediate overlaps with my own writing interests.
This woman is of the persistent type, which is probably why she has achieved a modicum of publishing success. But she's also the type who acts first, thinks later. (I also think she writes first, thinks later too, but that's a different story.)
Anyway, if I did as she wished, I would've been working for this guy, doing what I've thought of doing myself, giving him all the credit for coming up with such a brilliant idea. Not that I'm a genius full of ideas or anything. I just think that everyone ELSE thinks they are a genius full of ideas and they think that NO ONE ELSE could come up with any idea as original as their own. That's bullcrap.
As it is, I'll probably get sued anyway for having an indirect meeting with this guy. Which means I'll have to scrap any plans of my own that are similar. And that's part of the Hollywood shuffle, folks. Ideas are cheap, a dime a dozen. It's the person who actually does the work and takes action who gets things done. But there are dozens of others who will claim, somewhere down the line, that it was actually their idea and should get something from your success.
Am I paranoid? With a capital P, baby. Do I care if I ever succeed? Naturally, but I don't want some schmuck getting any credit for my artist-related sacrifices. Makes you want to pack it all up and head for Kansas.
That's rant #1. Here's rant #2.
I had a friendly conversation with my out-of-town friend recently about writing. I begin to tell her what I think is a brilliant idea for a story and then she proceeds to give me advice on WHAT I should be writing about and HOW I should be writing it. This is a friend I've had for over 20 years who knows me very, very well. What the frick, man?! Once again, I'm seriously considering moving to Kansas!
Am I too sensitive? Yes. That's me. My personality. It's also one of the traits that enables me to get in someone else's head and think how they think. I'm very good at it. I write great character dialogue because of it. I also can commiserate with just about anyone I meet. So to any of my friends who suggest I am too sensitive, remember who I am: Mr. Sensitive.
On to rant #3.
(oops. had to edit this part out for various reasons.)
I have one friend who occasionally reads my stupid blog entries and she has said that because she is bi-, she is a more advanced soul than I am because I am "just heterosexual." When I first heard that, I thought it was pure ludicrous. But over the years, I've done some reading and thinking and I believe she makes perfect sense. Souls, in theory, are unisex, even though they usually take on a gender identity. Universal love is indeed a very advanced love.
In fact, I use this universal love theory as a sort of litmus test for how others are attracted to me. When women are attracted to me, that's one level. When gay men find me attractive, that's another level. But when lesbian women and straight men find themselves somehow drawn to me, that's a whole 'nother level right there. The tipping point, so to speak.
I do want to end this on a positive note. Seattle was damn lovely. Great weather. Some great friends up there. One almost died over the weekend, at his 40th birthday party. I'm glad he didn't. Otherwise, this probably would be rant #4. And I'd be helluh sad.
Many of my friends will be turning 40 this year, and consequently, they're having their 40th birthday worries, frustrations, breakdowns, rants, vents, paranoias, debates, woulda, coulda, shouldas. But I have one thing to leave you with today.
A girl I once dated was turning 30 a few years ago and this really got her depressed for all the reasons girls get depressed about when turning 30. But she was a different beast, so to speak. I mean, this girl had various problems and excesses over the years. She literally didn't think she would make it to 30. Certainly her parents doubted it too.
At some point, her dad came up to her and expressed this to her, and she just broke down like you wouldn't believe. I have a few more months before I turn a milestone as well. And, well, I'll be honest when I say I didn't think I'd make it this far either. Yup. Lucky me. Poor ol' lucky me. The luckiest guy in the world, as far as I'm concerned. ; )