I spent this weekend working on a screenplay for a not-really-that-big-of-a-deal but yet it drove me up the wall with anxiety and fear or...something... not failure, just some weird mental road block. And many hours later, I ended up with 20 pages that I couldn't get down to the required five. And while yes, if you wanted to be argumentative, you could say "yes, I could" have done it. Yes, one could. But I couldn't. Every version I cut together was so much worse than the one before and I got so panicky that by the time I went to bed at 2 AM, I was physically exhausted. I woke up with no alarm 3 hours later, convinced that I thoughts to fix it, hoping I sneak turn it i late. But like so many times before, the dream was gone by the time I got out of bed. But I still gave it a couple of hours more effort. Long story short, I finally threw in the towel at 7:30 and called in sick to work, feeling totally guilt free about as my sleep-deprived body was revolting, my bowels were irritable and overall I just felt sick
I'm reminded about something my dad probably used to say -- I certainly can imagine him saying it -- every time he was trying to teach me something I couldn't manage (hitting a ball, throwing a spiral, driving, lighting a match on the side of a box...pretty much all the manly arts): "Why are you making something so easy so hard for yourself?" And while my dad would have said it gruffly -- and again, I'm not sure he did say this but I am he sure he thought it and said it with his eyes -- he was never cruel and it was communicated, in a way that obvious even to a bratty kid, with a frustration born out of love for his eldest son rather than the scolding internal voice I use on myself. I think maybe, on this particular topic, it's time for me to man up and be more like my dad, and at least give myself a break. I'll do that later -- for now, self-pity wallow!
Speaking of James Joseph, this morning I got a message that said he was really glad I was taking writing so seriously again. And though, given I woke up to it after a sleepless night of feeling failure, after having more time to process it, it feels like a win. I don't mean to give you the impression that my dad ever did anything that would drive me to suicide after he got Robin Williams fired from my prep school. It's just that, in their imagination when they win the lottery, my mom sets me up so I can write without pressure, but I always thought my dad would still send me to law school. So it's a win to hear otherwise. That, and I suppose I should be grateful that I have a hobby that gets me so riled up.
There are far more details about this process in my original take -- but it was even more livejournal-esque than this one. But I'm going to post this so I don't have to keep re-telling this embarrassing story until I feel better about it -- though writing it all out has helped me process my insanity -- so I guess score one more for keeping on truckin' in the writing department. Thanks for your support and we now return Logopolis to its snarky cultural commentary.
Did you see Adam Lambert last night?!? I didn't but I got to see The View walk about it. Obviously, we know which I side of said debate I fall on. Joy Behar and I are both totally in favor of simulated male face fucking being shown during prime time. Okay, not really, but even Elizabeth said that maybe your kids should be in bed at 10 CST/11 EST; however, previously when she said that if Lambert keeps doing stuff like this, people will not focus on his music, she really came close to sounding like she didn't mean he should "stop with the pop theatrics" (because he totally got famous by being low key) but instead "stop being such a faggot"; given a few hours to mull it over, I don't think that's what she meant, but her voice makes it impossible for me to give her the benefit of the doubt as I hear it. Barbara didn't have an opinion on the matter but was just mad that, it being morning, she couldn't show the clip on her show because as we know from her biography, it's her long time dream to be the largest purveyor of pornography.
But you know who's most excited about the Glamby Lamby going all gay rapey in his performance? J Lo -- her falling on her most famous asset was set to be the big story of the night.