"Love is like a red, red rose. And I am a little thorny."

Over the past couple of weeks, I have had two recurring questions proposed to me; 1.) "What happened to your face?" and 2.) "So are you dating anyone?"  Since I usually answer, "You should see the other guy," to the first question, let's move on to the second.

No.

Brief?  Yes.  But I'm not here to make a pity party out of my single status.  I'm writing this because we all have been in this place, and it's just a part of us maturing and coming to understand who we are as people...but I bet some people just say that to convince themselves that they won't die alone and unloved...

I have other single friends.  I also have friends that are married, dating, celibate, promiscuous, gay, straight, and sometimes like group activities.  For the most part, they're pretty happy with their current relationship status, and I'm sure there are a few who could be happier, but regardless of their level of content, everyone is still slowly advancing in the stages of discovering one's self.  Some people need to find a yin to realize that they are the yang, while some people need to go backpacking across Europe, and some people define themselves by their work and what they accomplish in life.  These are just examples of ways people continue to develop an understanding of what they have to offer the Universe and themselves.

Let's be honest, you have friends that are married, and sometimes you find yourself thinking, "Married?  Already?  Well, I guess their lives are over."  Of course when people get married, their lives change; I don't know if I would say they're "over" by any means, though.  They've just found a different route on their way to discovering themselves.  Like I inferred before, some individuals need to be a part of a whole to realize the role they play in the Universe.  Like a cog that says, "What up?  I'm a cog...what the fuck do I do?" can't find out that answer until its a part of something; "What up?  I'm a cog.  Yea, I make this clock work.  What's it to you?"  Our reactions of abhorrence towards our friends who get married is based partially on jealousy.  It's a subconscious jealousy, but a jealousy nonetheless.  We are secretly just mad that they may be further down the path of self discovery than we are.  We should not be angry.  It's entirely possible that we may have more to discover in life before we can define ourselves further with our love, and that could be because our destiny is more complex than those already partnered up in holy matrimony or civil union.

I'm not implying the existence of people who marry early in life is small, simple, and insignificant.  No single human being has a small existence in this World.  Every life affects every other life, which affects more lives, and so on and so forth.  Even if I consider you a douchebag or a "spacewaster," I'm confident in the fact that at some point in your life you made an impression on somebody that was for the benefit of society.  I'm simply stating we all have specific obstacles to overcome at specific and different points in our timeline that are organized randomly, at best.  And with each obstacle tackled, we become more and more self-knowledgeable and get closer to the final realization that sums up our life.

I consider myself to currently be in a stage of laissez-fair existence.  My goal isn't to be life's doormat or anything, but I do like to just let things happen, particularly, when it comes to a "love life."  I think of myself as a somewhat ambitious person.  I don't have the attitude of, "I'll slit anyone's throat who gets in the way of me and my dreams," but I do have drive and a passion for what I do.  In the past, my romantic relationships have never come out of me looking for someone or hoping that the right girl would walk by me in the hallway.  I've always become involved with someone just by chance.  You can't really expect stuff like this to happen whenever you wish, but just know that moments will come where you'll meet someone who will become very special to you. 

Okay.  So about five hours have passed since I typed that last sentence.  Now that I'm full of hoppy, malty goodness courtesy of the Flying Saucer, I'm ready to jot down some final thoughts.  I am one of those people that is not actively searching for love.  I feel my best bet at finding myself and discovering what I have to offer the rest of the World is to sail solo for a while until I find what the next step of my life is.  I know some people that are so fixated on becoming a part of a couple and are constantly on the search for love, and pushing life like that is not the answer.  Life is to be enjoyed, and if you spend too much time searching for something you want, you'll miss out on what life is giving you.

A priest, a rabbi, and a Tibeten monk walk into a blog...

I really need to stop blogging at intervals of a month and a half.  But whatever.

Lately, I have noticed a lot of people blogging or posting status updates or tweets or what-have-you about religion.  Well, not necessarily religion, but Christianity to be specific.  For those of you that know me, you know that I'm not a religious person by any means.  Some of you may even put a label on me like "atheist" or "agnostic."  But the truth is, I'm still searching for something bigger than myself to believe in.

I know people at both ends of the religious spectrum; those who are completely devout Christians who wear their beliefs on their sleeves and those people who deny the existence of God and think that people who believe in Him are complete idiots.  Without passing too much judgment, I believe there's not a single person in this world who knows what the hell is going on with the Universe, our existence, and what lies beyond the timeline of our physical being.  Don't get me wrong; I completely respect whatever belief you may have and your values because that's your right as a human being.  But to completely shut off your mind to any school of thought other than your own is a little bigoted.

Here's a quick synopsis of what I do believe in; parallel universes, aliens, mind over matter, and the fact that ice cream will always be delicious.  By just saying that last sentence, you probably already think I am crazy.  But think about it; can you think of anything, anything at all, that disputes the existence of my beliefs?  It's fine if you believe something different.  In fact if everybody believed the same thing, our society would become really, really dumb from a lack of intellectual challenges.  But if the only "reason" you can think of to call my beliefs bogus is "that's just silly," well you need to work on your debating skills, my friend.  The fact that people will dispute someone else's beliefs only based on their own ignorance is not acceptable; discriminatory even.

I'm not a hating person, but there are certain types of people on this Earth that I can not stand.  1.) People who wear two polos with the collars popped, 2.) Dudes who drive lifted pick-ups with obnoxiously loud exhausts, and 3.) Individuals who push their beliefs upon other people.  Now, I'm not stupid.  I realize that if people didn't push their beliefs upon others, America would probably be a whole different country right now, if it even existed at all.  You can post your Christian blog update on Facebook, or invite your friends to a Campus Crusade event, or even have some people over for a Hanukkah party, but to tell someone, "You're beliefs are wrong. You should believe in J.C. and His awesomeness," is ignorant, rude, and offensive.

Here's me dropping some knowledge: Religion and You.
Most Americans believe in their current religion because they had been exposed to said religion since their exodus from the vagina.  More often than not, the religion you practice is the religion with which your parents brought you up.  When you're that little, what is your thought process?  "I love my toy firetruck/Barbie doll, and Mommy and Daddy, and ice cream, and cartoons, and my stuffed animals, and..."  You love everything!  Granted, I do still love my parents, ice cream, and my stuffed Sonic I got when I was 4, but the point I'm trying to make is, you can't discern what makes sense from what doesn't.  You believe anything you're told.  So if you're raised on a particular religion, chances are that you still believe it, taking into consideration how intense your upbringing was.  Most people
don't really challenge themselves or their beliefs; they don't ask questions, and therefore do not get any wiser, and some people are fine with that, i.e. "ignorance is bliss."

When Europeans went to Africa, whether they snatched up people for slavery or just decided to colonize right then and there, we were told that they "taught the uneducated natives" about Jesus.  And since only the winners write the history books, few people really know the other side of the "teaching."  Just ask yourself, beyond the physical, how do you control a group of people into doing your bidding?  You manipulate their beliefs; their mentality.  Africans were forced by the Europeans into Christianity by threat of harm or death.  When a person receives threats like the ones issued, you'll believe anything they tell you just make life a little easier, although I don't think it helped judging by all the shit that actually happened around that time.  The primary reason African Americans believe in Christ is because that's the way they were brought up, and through the generations the fact that their ancestors were originally forced into believing it has lost is effect.

I'm not trying to belittle anyone's beliefs here.  I'm merely trying to get you to take a good look at what you believe, and after really thinking about where your spirituality stands, if you still end up Christian, or Jewish, or Muslim, that's great.  Do not invest in a faith just because the cool kids are doing it or you're too lazy to think for yourself because that's what leads to so much hatred and ignorance in this World. 

And please, people, have a sense of humor about your beliefs.  What does it matter if someone pokes fun at what you believe?  If you still believe it, no harm is done.  It's not like they're shattering your religion by making a little quip.  Relax!

Okay that was my one digression.  Have a nice day!

Hide ya kids. Hide ya wife. Cuz they hauntin' errybody up in here!

About this time last year I saw a movie that was nothing short of mind-blowing.  It is currently listed as the film with the highest return-on-investment ratio in the history of film, and is one of my favorite horror movies of all time.  I'm talking about Paranormal Activity.

I first saw the trailer for Paranormal Activity online in mid-2009.  I was immediately fascinated by the premise and the simplicity of the trailer.  Basically, here's an audience, here's some freaky stuff, and here's the audience screaming. 
 

Let's ignore the fact that I actually believe in the paranormal, i.e. ghosts, aliens, Bigfoot, etc.  I was so interested in this film purely from the standpoint of a film-nerd.  The film was shot entirely with a handheld camcorder, very similar in fact to the one I currently own.  Special effects were kept to an extreme minimum, the cast size was less than five people, and the camera was a part of the film.  The characters addressed it and it became the eye through which we viewed Micah's and Katie's collective experience.  This was the rawest and simplest a film could get.  One of the things that makes a film great is its ability to capture raw emotion.  Regardless of the fact that this movie is not a documentary, the camera brilliantly captures all the emotion and all the freakiness of the events that unfold.

Forget gore.  And startling the audience with sound is so played out and trite.  Suspense is where you scare the living daylights out of people.  The fear of not knowing is the fear that gets a hold of you the most and doesn't let go.  That's why Paranormal Activity had such a great scare factor.  Most of the scares were visual, and the only non-diegetic sound in the whole film was the low rumble one would hear right before something was going to happen, or not happen haha.  It played with your head, didn't always deliver, and thus putting you more on edge.  Adding to your edginess, the long takes that make up the film make you anxious and slightly hopeful that something crazy would happen next.  Our attention spans have shortened so much due to modern society, just staring at a 30 second segment of a stagnant bedroom makes us so comfortable, augmenting the film's effect on you.  I could break down each individual freaky event that happened throughout the film, but I don't feel like writing a novel today.

I love minimalist movies, especially when their done well.  Video as a medium, instead of film, provides a sense of realism that, I feel, film is often unable to do.  Films like Spike Lee's Bamboozled (2000), Cloverfield (2008), and what could be called the "predecessor" to PA and PA2, The Blair Witch Project (1999), are some of the most famous examples of the medium making the movie feel as real as possible, borderline documentary.  I could write a whole other post on The Blair Witch Project, but I won't go there.  The bottom line is, Paranormal Activity fascinated me so because of its realism or portrayal of realism.  The singular lens was the eye through which we witnessed and became involved in the lives of the characters, and got ourselves a little freaked out.

And now...for me to share my disappointment:  Paranormal Activity 2.  (SPOILERS)


I was so in love with the first film, when I heard a sequel was coming, I cringed.  I've never been a huge fan of sequels, and not many people are because they never seem to live up to the expectations established by the first installment.  I'm sure there are a few exceptions to this rule, but regardless I was not happy to find out there'd be PA2.  However, I consider myself an open minded person, so I figured I'd check out the trailer.  The original trailer (above) didn't pique my interest as much, although I admitted I wanted to see more.  More and more updated trailers came out, revealing more and more footage, and it didn't look too bad.  But after learning that Paramount was actually budgeting the money for the project, I was extremely hesitant.  What I loved about the first PA was its minimalism, lack of a professional Hollywood budget, thus my instinct was to not go and see this film.

But peer pressure's a bitch, so after being coerced into going to see it by the same people I saw the first movie with, I prepared myself mentally by wiping all expectations and hopes of what the film would  be so I could focus on what the film was.  And it was disappointing.

Now for the majority of the movie, I was into it.  There were some great funny parts, which is always appreciated to lighten the mood of an otherwise extremely dark film.  There are a few amazing paranormal happenings; bravo to whoever came up with the cabinets idea.  This film even tied into the first one, both taking place around the same time and having a common link with Kristi and Katie from the original PA being sisters.  And adding a dog and a toddler to the mix of characters was new and exciting.  But ultimately, it was lack of originality and a God-awful ending that made me glad I used a gift card to buy my ticket and didn't waste $10 at the box office.

As I mentioned before, I was with the movie for the entire ordeal, never shying away from the screen unless it was to shake the last delicious Junior Mint out of its prison box.  This sequel/prequel kept my attention which was good.  There's nothing I hate more than being bored in a movie theatre.  I jumped at a few noises, got excited over the dragging scene, and got uncomfortable during the nightvision basement fiasco, but when it was all over, I thought back to what I had just watched and realized, it really wasn't that great.  Basically, it was the original with significant financial backing.  PA2 was PA's richer cousin.  Since they were almost the same, I felt I could've gone without seeing this second installment.  I feel the same way about The Office and Parks & Recreation.  One is just like the other, so if I've seen one, I've seen them both.  So why would I watch both? 

PA2 had many of the same scares as the first one with a few additions that could've been done without.  The extended dragging scene was decent, but to lead to the basement was just unoriginal.  A horror story in the basement?  No way!  I know, but it's been done.  The whole nightvision gimmick had Hollywood's prints all over it.  It was one of a few moments in the film where you could see it coming.  Predictability is something that Hollywood horror needs to get away from, and is having a difficult time doing so.  I'll give credit to director Tod Williams, he catered well to America's collective short attention span and broke up the long takes between six different cameras rather than just one.  Smart for the masses, but it takes away from the original effect of the first installment.  But once again, I'll acknowledge my appreciation for the cabinet scene.  That was my favorite scene in the entire 90 minutes.  I challenge you not to jump or say "Holy shit."  However, the ending was lackluster and seemed like a desperate attempt on the writers' part to wrap it all up.  Way less intense and climactic than the original, and upon the final summarizing text, the audience let out a groan of disappointment.

I know not many people will agree with me on the fact that Paranormal Activity is the better of the two, but I stand by my decision.  Money doesn't make movies better.  It's the application of that money that will ultimately affect the quality of the production, and in this case, the Hollywood budget did not add too much to the scare factor of the picture.  The original film was shot on a $15,000 budget.  Micah and Katie were each paid $500 to act in the film.  Screw big budget movies and cheesy special effects.  Paranormal Activity grossed over $100 million dollars, setting the R.O.I. record with 434,000%.  If you stack the parent film against its offspring, in this instance the former surpasses the latter in terms of originality, tension, and affect on the audience.

"Where we're going, we don't need roads"

Let me go ahead and address the obvious time-gap between this post and the last: I know I've been slacking, but I'm not going to post something just for the hell of it.  If I write something, there's going to be a purpose behind it.  No meaningless dribble here.  I've just been searching for something worthwhile to post.  So there.  Bazinga.

I can very easily be struck ill with cabin fever.  And when I say "cabin fever," I'm not referring to the really bad horror movie made a few years ago about a bunch of hip youngsters being murdered in the forests of West Virginia, nor am I limiting the definition of the illness to just being stuck inside for a prolonged period of time.  I get cabin fever when I am bored for an extended amount of time, and up until this week, I would've been continuing this run for almost five months.  My cure for this mentally and physically debilitating psychological illness is being busy.  I try to get myself involved in so many tasks that I am unable to even think about how busy I am.  I just...go.

I'm at another time in my life where I have many things going on to keep me preoccupied, and it feels good.  I'm still doing the whole band thing, writing this garbage and contributing to another blog site, bartending, just started doing some part-time video work, and I've also begun working on some independent film/video projects.  Holla!  I love being busy and productive.  And for some reason, my internal clock didn't want me to sleep past 7:00am this morning, so I caught up on some of this season's Fall premieres, uploaded some footage to the ol' Macbook, and starting typing this nonsense.

Now to get to the point in all of this.  It is extremely important to take charge of your life because you are the only person who is responsible for your own successes, failures, gains, and losses in your existence.  However, somethings are, quite simply, beyond your control.  Now, I know what you're thinking; "That don't make no God damn sense!"  I know it's somewhat contradictory, but just hear me out.

Ultimately, we have very little control when it comes to determining where we all end up in life.  I'm not necessarily talking about predestination or anything like that, but we are given signs all throughout our lives that let us know if we are on the right track in life, or if we need to change directions.  This statement may seem vague, but honestly, it's meant to be that way.  A broad array of hints are given to us at different stages in our lives that guide our morals, goals, beliefs, ambitions, and many other aspects of our individual existence.  However, for this particular post, I'm concentrating on goals and ambitions.  Now, we've all heard of the old adage, "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."  Well sometimes after a few more unsuccessful attempts, you should probably give up and move on to something else.  The Universe is most likely telling you that whatever you're trying to accomplish just wasn't meant to be.  Granted, a bunch of losers use that excuse after only trying once or never at all, but they're called "losers" for a reason.  It is not easy to recognize these signs I'm talking about, so more often than not it takes a while for one to really understand where they're being led in the grand scheme of things.  Hey, maybe you weren't meant to be a doctor...the world needs dentists and chiropractors.  The Universe has something laid out for every single one of us, but that's not to say we are all running on auto-pilot. 

We are solely responsible when it comes to how we live our lives; good or evil, awesome or lame, and everything in between.  The route we take in life has been set for us by The Universe's version of Google Maps, but we all know the most memorable things happen on the road trip rather than at the final destination.  We've got to learn to enjoy ourselves along the way.  Granted every once in a while we can't help but feel a little miserable and cranky because we run over those pesky potholes every now and again.  But overall, we've got to make sure that we've got the radio tuned to our favorite songs, plenty of Utz© Cheez Balls and Arizona© Green Tea (product plugs Wayne's World style), and our eyes on the road, keeping a lookout for those signs.

The phase of my life involving cabin fever and uncertainty is behind me; a mere overnight stay in a cheap motel during intense highway construction.  I've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and...wait...my name isn't Jake or Elwood...but REGARDLESS, I've got plenty going on in my life right now to keep me focused on the road ahead, and I plan to enjoy every curve along the way.

Random Reflections #1: Career, Destiny, and Sharks

Sometimes there's just so much going on in my head, I have to type all of my thoughts down.  And when my conscious vomits words onto the screen, they don't make sense the majority of the time.  However, I still feel it is important to find an outlet to uncork all of these bottled up thoughts because if all the crazy shit stayed in my head, I would go a little insane, and I'm already crazy enough.  So here's the skinny: this post isn't going to focus on one particular story, valuable life lesson, or soapbox rant.  This is just me writing what I think and what I feel.  Take it for what it's worth coming from a 23-year old waiter.

The past two days have blown, with regards to my neverending search for regular employment.  In two days, I've been turned down for two positions.  Now, to you, that may not seem that bad, but considering I've been out of school for over a year and had opportunity after opportunity end up going south, it's beyond frustrating, although it seems to have become the norm for me to have my hopes dashed.  Enough bullshit has happened to me since I've been out of school regarding my goal to have a career in media production that I'm starting to question whether I was even meant for this line of work.  Maybe the Universe is trying to tell me that I should be doing something else with this life.  But I've dedicated so much of my life to this field, that I really don't know how to do anything else.  I went to school for it, for Christ's sake. 

I know I can't possibly explain what I'm feeling without hopping in my TARDIS (nerd reference!), and showing you exactly what has happened to my dreams over the past 16 months without writing a freakin' novel, so you'll just have to trust my justification of this pessimistic outlook on my life at this moment.  I've basically exhausted every option and am now at a loss for what I should do next.  The only thing I can really think of doing if I want to pursue my television career goals, is to move.  But I still don't feel like I'm ready to leave Raleigh.  Also, I just signed a six month lease on a new apartment, so I can't really go anywhere for another half a year haha.  Plus, and you can call it a silly and trite ambition if you wish, but I still want to hang around Raleigh because of my band.  I really think we have the talent and drive to make something of ourselves.  However, the last thing I want to do is be that creepy 40-year-old guy living in his folks' basement still believing that "the band's gonna make it!"  That would just be dumb.

Now, I know I'm only 23, and I've got my whole life to figure everything out.  But here's the kicker: I could drop-dead tomorrow.  What a shitty time to die: no real job, no girlfriend, living off of inheritance money, and writing whiny, self-deprecating blogs that no one reads.  Of course, the best attitude to have in situations like these is to take control of my life and make changes for the better.  But the trouble is, I have no fucking clue how to do that.  I've always thought of myself as someone who would define himself by his career, but when there's no career insight, it's difficult to do any defining at all.

I'm perfectly fine with not knowing what I'm going to end up doing five or ten years down the road, but I expected by now that I would be doing something that would lead to a satisfying career in those five or ten years.  But I'm just a waiter barely making enough to survive.  I live on cereal and sandwiches.

If you believe in destiny or fate, or if you don't, that's fine.  Everyone's entitled to their opinion.  But there are certain times when everyone questions the existence of such intangible things.  As you can probably tell from my ravings this evening, I'm having trouble believing in them, and things even bigger than that...but even if reality doesn't go in my favor all the time, I still have the dreams in my head, and there's not a whole lot people can do to take those from me.  And the whole "questioning my career choice" problem has led me to revisit some of my ambitions that I unfortunately forget about from time to time.

When I was younger, 12 or 13, I wanted to be a marine biologist.  What?  Yup.  I loved the water and everything living in it, even those annoying jellyfish.  And I still hold that belief.  I even have thought about going back to school and getting a degree, but let's face it, with my financial situation and deteriorating patience, that may not be such a fantastic idea.  However, one goal that I still believe to be attainable is to combine my passion for video production with my love of the ocean and pursue a career in underwater videography.  It's kind of an "out there" possibility, but like I mentioned before, it's a dream.  It would be so cool to document the brilliant coral reefs of the Caribbean Sea or the Great Barrier Reef, the bio-luminescent critters roaming the deep ocean depths, or the packs of hammerhead sharks coming together near the Galapagos Islands.  All the crazy-awesome stuff you only see on Nat Geo or the Discovery Channel.

Speaking of the Discovery Channel, Shark Week is this week.  Although, at the moment Time Warner Cable is fucking up and not making the Discovery Channel available, I have watched it all this week.  This is the point in the post where there's a slightly uplifting tone to my writing.

Sharks are awesome.  It's a rather simplistic statement of their beauty and importance to the world's ecosystem, but it's so fucking true.  So it's easy to understand how upset I was when the first half of Shark Week programming this week were all shows about shark attacks.  Now, I'm no idiot.  I know sharks have attacked humans, and I know shows that talk about it generate high ratings, but when I was growing up, I saw programming that taught us about sharks.  We learned about all the different species, feeding and mating habits, their valued role in the ocean's food chain, and who can forget Air Jaws?  That shit was crazy!

But how can Discovery air PSAs taking about conservation and shark protection when the majority of Shark Week programs are about sharks running the train on some humans?  The Colbert Report pointed this out humorously during last year's Shark Week, but it was all too true.  I consider myself an educated person, so I know that shark's don't consider humans a dietary staple, but to a select few out there, they may think sharks are the Devil incarnate.  Because of all this violent and graphic programming, it was extremely refreshing to see Wednesday night's Shark Week show, "Shark Bites." 

Hosted by Craig Ferguson, the best late-night man in the biz, "Shark Bites" followed his journey to muster up the courage to dive with and feed sharks while referencing and intercutting footage from previous shows covering the potential viciousness of these marvels of evolution.  Without taking a whole other page to summarize the events of the program, Ferguson basically went from being afraid of these creatures, to being in awe of them as he hand fed Caribbean Reef sharks off the coast of Nassau.  The silky, silvery creatures swam about him and the rest of the dive crew, feeling extremely comfortable, and even stopping to be held by the divers who petted them like giant dogs with gills.  It almost brought tears to my eyes watching this because of what I know about the mass killings of sharks that take place everyday.  But the score may have had something to do with bringing out my emotions.  Watching this show brought back the wonderment I felt when I watched Shark Week as a kid.

It's a little past 2:00am, and I've been writing for a while, and, honestly, I'm tired of typing.  But I wanted to let you know why I'm so passionate about these animals, but I wanted to do so without typing too much more because all the information I have for you could take up several chapters in a sociology text book.  Just Google the term "shark finning" and check out the images, and if you can find it, rent or watch Sharkwater.  It's one of my favorite documentaries on the shark's struggle to survive in this age.

This post kind of jumped all over the place, but I just had to get these thoughts out before they made my head explode.  I'm all spent now, so I hope this didn't bore you too much.  G'night all.

Hanson? Really?

Something happened to me last week that I never dreamed or thought would ever happen to me.  I won tickets and meet-and-greet passes to a Hanson show.

Months ago I had entered my band, The Long Drive, in a competition in which the winning artist would be granted the opening slot for the Hanson show.  I did this not because I am a die-hard Hanson fan, but because they have a large following, so it would be great exposure for my band if we did in fact win.  After signing my band up on the website where the contest took place, I created an individual account so I could vote for my band as many times as I wanted.  But alas, my band did not win, and I thought that was the end of it.  However, last Wednesday I get a call from a representative from the website telling me that I had won the Fan Prize.  Having no clue what this was but not wanting to sound like a complete idiot, I said, "Oh.  Cool."

The Fan Prize was two tickets and meet-and-greet passes to the Hanson show on July 31st.  I wasn't terribly excited, but nevertheless getting free entry to a show is still pretty cool.  Especially when tickets normally cost $30.  The fact that I won two tickets and passes meant that I had to find somebody to go with me, and when I think "Hanson fan," I think of my friend CK.  So I called her and told her that Saturday she was going with me to the Hanson show to meet the band.  She flipped out.

CK very excited about that trashcan.

 "Are you shitting me?" she shouted over the phone.  It's been a lifelong dream of hers to meet Hanson, and the last show she went to was back in '98.  I figured taking her would score me some good karma.  So here's the details of the night of the show that was energetic, musical, and kind of ridiculous.

Fame, Fortune, and Famine

Quick introduction here.  A good number of strange occurrences have happened to me over the years, and they seemed to be becoming more frequent starting a few months ago.  Some have been life changing, others just interesting, but all, I believe, are linked to the Universe trying to send me a message.  What that message is, I'll only realize when the time is right, so for now all I can do is relay this experiences to you, and you can draw your own conclusions.

Since I don't feel like going back to the beginning where it all started, let's just begin this like a good Chris Nolan or Guy Ritchie flick; jump right in the middle of it all.

Being a waiter is not a glamorous job my any means.  You work odd, long hours, put up with people's shit, and practically sell your dignity for a lousy 15% gratuity.  But every once in a while, working in the service industry can be rewarding, whether it's meeting an extraordinary person, learning a life lesson, or nailing a $20 tip on a $30 bill.  Last night, at the Busy Bee Cafe in downtown Raleigh, I came into work at 6pm.  My shift started like every other shift before; kinda slow.  Patrons trickled in steadily for the first hour, then all of a sudden...BAM!  We got hit.  I had four tables sit down at the exact same time.  I've had it happen before, so I wasn't freaked out.  I just rolled with the punches. 

Talking to my tables, I learned that the majority of them were grabbing a quick bite to eat before the Chelsea Handler show at the Raleigh Amphitheatre.  Honestly, at first I had no clue who that was.  I asked one of my fellow Bees who it was and found out, "she's the lady with the talk show on E! or something like that."  That kicked my memory.  She wrote a book too, right?  So now that I knew who she was, I tried to relate to my tables and wished them a fun time at the show.  I still had no idea how influential or widely known this woman was.  After that crowd left, the restaurant slowed to a crawl, and being the closer, when it slows down at night, it really dddrrraaaaagggggssssssss.

1:15am rolled around, and people were starting to clear out, then, once again, BAM!  We got a sudden influx of well dressed hipsters, drunk blondes in summer dresses, and the occasional toned-down guido.  A group of about eight people started heading upstairs to our mezzanine dining area, and my manager and one of the bartenders started making a big deal about their presence.  The other waiters were gathered around the manager, and she looked a little stressed. 

"Who's going to take this table?," she asked, "I don't care who it is, but someone has to take it.  Like right now."  I volunteered because I needed the money, plus some of the other servers were ready to get out of there because they had been there longer than I had that night.  But I still wasn't sure why my manager was making a huge deal about this one table.  My coworker friend leaned in and said, "You get to wait on Chelsea Handler." 

"Um, cool?" Of course I had no idea if I should be excited or not, but I knew she was a celebrity so I should probably feel some kind of pride.  So, I walked up the stairs and over to the table.  I finally put a face to a name by recognizing her from the videos and photos somehow lodged in my subconscious.  She ordered Belvedere on the rocks with a splash of club soda and a lime.  I went around the table and got everyone elses order.  No big deal, just doing my job.  All of them were pretty low maintenance, with the exception of a couple that were completely hammered and just a tad unintentionally belligerent.  On my trips back downstairs to grab more drinks, food, water, whatever, some people at the bar kept trying to persuade me to let them up there.  I figured that Miss Handler and her friends wanted some privacy, so I came up with some bullshit excuse why they couldn't go up there.  They kept trying though.  Shot 'em down every time.

About halfway through Chelsea and her friends' stay, one of the party members came up to me and thanked me for letting them relax and chill.  He said that they (Chelsea and her minions) are a little skiddish when it comes to going out to places where people recognize them.  "No worries, man," I said.  "Just doing my job.  Hope you guys are having a good time."  I had never really waited on a "celebrity" before, other than the Mayor of Raleigh, if you can count him as one.  I understood that after putting on a show, some people just need time to themselves with their closest friends.  I, myself, get kinda drained after I play a show and need a little break from people at least for an hour haha.

After their entrees came out, my initial pleasant impression of Chelsea and her posse started to decline.  Speaking literally here, they took two bites of their food, paid their bill, and left.  What the hell?  The tip was fine.  Not complaining about that.  But the one guy in the kitchen slaved on all of their appetizers and their entrees, and they didn't even finish their food.  The most any of Miss Handler's crew ate was half a cheeseburger.  You should have seen all of the food they didn't eat.  It was such a waste.  It got me a little irate.  That food could have been saved for someone who could have eaten all of it.

Even though it's been prevalent for sometime now, it still amazes me that there's such a large economical gap in the world right now.  Big American celebrities can come into a restaurant and spend more than I make in a week on food, and then eat less than a third of it, while there are people in developing countries who would normally live off of that third of a portion.  Talking about starvation here, people.  You may say that this ol' soapbox is getting pretty old, but think about it.  The big celebrity of the night at the restaurant took two bites of her chicken Caesar salad, paid the bill, and left with her entourage.  I'm not going to keep ranting about this, but it just boggles my mind now that I've personally seen what having a lot of money can do to you as a person.  It is a horrible attitude to have if you think, "I've got the money.  I'll just order everything on the menu and eat what I want.  Nobody else is going to need it."

Greed and gluttony are bad news.  By the way, Chelsea Handler looks a lot better in her photos than in person.  Cameras and make-up are God's gift to her.