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.