Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Where is my career?

My tenure as a server is nearing its dramatic end. Each day, I grow more and more rude to the tossers who fill my day to day routine. Do they eat out merely in pursuit of filling their desire to subjugate someone to their evil whims? Why are people so fucking unhappy when they eat in a restaurant? I know, the answer might be that the restaurant makes them that way, but I disagree. Joel, Jim Carrey's character in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (haven't seen it? you should), mentions the "dining dead." They are a reality. Tonight, I had a couple that didn't speak to each other once in the time that I watched them, which was upwards of 40 minutes. Why spend money to sit in a noisy restaurant and stare at the table?

Helpful tip of the day: when dining out, do not pay with a $100 bill. Just don't do it. In my several years of restaurant experience, I can safely say that people who pay with the big bill....are assholes. It sucks finding enough change and the tip that comes back from it is usually meager. Do yourself a favor, bring a credit card. Nobody is impressed by the Franklin anymore. Stick it in your nephew's birthday card, he'll definitely appreciate it.

I bet that nobody has read this besides me. And that's okay. Just writing it out and seeing it on the web is therapeutic. Being able to use the media for self expression is a good feeling, a powerful feeling. Rupert Murdoch must walk around with the biggest erection.

Writing this started as a way to help spur my motivation to finish my script. Yes, that's right, I'm another screenwriter. Not aspiring screenwriter, mind you, but an actual screenwriter. I'm aspiring to get paid for it. It's all about time management. I'm not efficient in my free time away from work. Mmmm, that needs to be addressed. Just not now...

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

So I stay up too late...

My personal goal is to update this thing at least once a day. If typical pattern holds, I'll be on task for two to four weeks before my interest slowly tapers and refocuses on something more interesting like collecting vintage fax machines. I'll be sure to send everyone an invite to the opening of my office machinery museum, most likely run from the garage at my mother-in-law's house. Proper dress will be enforced. No hats.

The wife and I are facing a housing dilemma of semi-serious proportions. We are moving to a new apartment in January. But where? Several factors are greatly impacting this decision. Living in miami would be fun, we did it before, but it's just so far from all the family in Buffalo and New Jersey. I would definitely need another convertible to cruise up and down Collins Ave in Miami Beach (Ocean drive is always a parking lot). Miami always prompts ideas of becoming functionally fluent in spanish so I could ingratiate myself in the real South Florida culture. Not gonna happen. I have more fun abusing my native tongue. And French is more fun.

Okay, so Miami is out. The most logical place would be DC. We LOVE Georgetown, but like all places and things that we love, it's way too fucking expensive. Other areas in the city are fine, but we'll still be dropping something north of $1500 a month for rent. Mass Court is probably the building, pending a visit. Am I becoming a yuppie? Hmm, remind me to swing by the clinic tomorrow and get checked out. After I get the $75 pepper mill from Williams-Sonoma.

This is all compounded by the sensible desire to buy a house and stop wasting money on rent. What is a young couple to do? I already know that she wants to settle in NJ. And I know that she gets what she wants. So why move to DC for two or three years just to move back to NJ? It doesn't make much sense.

It gets worse. If we are saving for a house, why not live outside DC where the rent is considerably cheaper? Because then we'll have to buy another car....which would still be cheaper than rent in the city. Because then I'll already be living in the suburbs and ready for a rubber room. I need the city. I need an urban setting with old movie theaters and small restaurants owned by local people instead of large Dallas based conglomerates. I love the hustle and bustle and noise from honking cars and pissed off people. It feels alive. However, I will admit that I like having a backyard to fall asleep in on a warm spring afternoon. Might not be available in NW DC.

Do other people have these problems? I need a real job. The Astros should have beaten the Cardinals.
Listening to Martin Sexton. You should.
Reading (not this second) A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn.

Where to begin?

This is daunting. Where should this begin? Do I start back at the beginning, in 1979? No, that might take too long. Perhaps an introduction shall do for now.
My name is Michael. I'm 25 years old. My four year degree is mere inches from my fingertips; all that remains is a simple chemistry test, which I have never studied. Slightly problematic.
Currently, I am underemployed. Along with countless other underachievers, I toil in a national chain restaurant, slinging fajitas and overpriced drinks to the ever growing number of overweight, rude suburbanites.
The only thing I've done right in my life is to marry Karen, the love of my life. She is 24 years old, just as close to her degree from UNC (go heels!), and similarly employed. We are living in Northern New Jersey until we attempt the grand move to Washington, DC, early in the new year. I love being married. I hate being poor, though I'm not really poor at all, at least not in the real scheme of things. I'm healthy, in love, and I do see some hope in this world of ours.
That's all for now.

One more photo

day after engagement
Originally uploaded by mtanner10.
This was a friend's wedding, the day after we got engaged.

Photo time

karen great
Originally uploaded by mtanner10.
Just to better introduce myself, I'll start with a picture that is not of me. Instead, it is my beautiful wife. This was taken in the spring of this year, in NYC.