A Year in Desult with What to Show?

It's been a year and three days since I started writing this blog, and its purpose is to track the development or transfer from some straight out of college Youth in Desult to some semblance of proper adult. So, I guess we're due for a sum up episode, but the frustrating point of the business is this: what the hell is a 'proper adult'? What sort of interests do they have, what sort of lifestyle, what sort of qualifications are necessary to be identified as one? Do they even exist beyond a self-imposed identity?

Yeah yeah, whatever, insert angsty BS here about growing up. I don't think I've known a single person who didn't feel the anxiety of maturing or reaching some sort of expectation for themselves. We all find importance in different things, though, and certainly we expect many different things from ourselves. I've met individuals who are home owners and only a few years older than I am, and are capable of great pettiness, with a tendency to be occupied in their completely self contained world where they only understand things in relation to how it affects them personally. I know relatively homeless, odd-jobbers who spend their spare cash on shiny pieces of cardboard, but have somehow managed to gather an outlook on life that is sympathetic, worldly, and, for the most part, seek to always extend the hand of help to others if possible. I think the my mindset a year ago might've been to try and understand which attitude was more mature or grown up... but now I certainly don't relate these to a single idea of adulthood.

I went out after University hoping to find a finite number of paths to follow for self progress, only to see that it was less of crossroads in front of me and more of a massive bus station. I mentioned before that I felt to be in a labyrinth with no way of seeing, but I was wrong - because every time I am back at this station, I know exactly where I am. Furthermore, I know there could be any number of buses coming and going anywhere - of course you don't know exactly where, but you know some idea of the directions. Naturally, you don't have to take the bus, you can walk up and down city streets any way you like with no ticket charge, but your two feet can only carry you so fast. When you look around to see what others are doing, you find there is no Clear sequence or method to their madness: some are crowding and climbing on top of the buses, dangerously filled to capacity, others are strolling leisurely in the exact opposite direction, and, oddly enough, there are so many who are sat at the bus stop who look to have not moved so much as an inch since they arrived, and have no intent, or even hope, of moving now.

It's only with reflection and having this place fresh in your memory do you realize how many times you have been there, and probably will again. No one wants to screw it up on the first departure, and no one wants to feel as if they are regressing with nothing to show. What I forgot was that I had already had my first departure long ago from that bus station, and took the first shuttle to the airport and spent 4 years studying before coming back. University gave me a long trip away from it, and when I returned it was nearly terrifying doing it again, after such a success... but I went for it and ended in Portland. Then that fell through, situations changed, and suddenly I was in San Diego. Then I departed in to a short lived career in sales, then missed the bus both for the San Diego Police Department and the video games industry (...yeah, I guess that interview didn't go as well as I thought!). Now I am effectively working in a small concessions stand inside the bus station [just to continue the metaphor that much further], stocking shelves and serving those passing through as I wait for the right bus for me to get out of town.

After a year of thought, I've concluded that the fear of returning to the bus stop after pushing yourself out, despite reservation or risk, is Youth in Desult. All those bodies sitting in the bus station going nowhere are crippled by the possibility of failure, even though where they sit is the worst place you could end up. Even though I work in the bus station, its not much better than simply sitting and doing nothing, unless I decide to buy a ticket and hop the next bus out, no matter how many times I have to try, until one day, I won't have to stay at that bus station - or if I return, it'll be for pleasure rather than business.

 In that way, after having left and come back so frequently, I find that this state of being is more comforting than terrifying. In a sense, there is opportunity all around you, and the only thing you could lose is your ego. As I said before, this is the baseline, the worst possible outcome of trying to get out is to end up right back here. So I've resolved to try and define my own path from the possibilities in front of me, despite fear or risk. People, as I said before, have different expectations of themselves - and perhaps my fear or uncertainty came from expecting too much perfection from my performance. I'm learning to accept that a constant upward tendency is impossible in life. With effort and willingness, though, your final outcome is most assuredly positive. Failure, in many ways, prepares and fortifies us with the knowledge necessary to succeed. Success needs failure. And after a year of pretty consistent and almost humorous failure, I am getting closer to squelching my absolute aversion of it, and accepting it as a sort of necessary evil.

That being said, what's the next bus to catch? I have decided after long talks with Fiona as well as giving much thought to what satisfies me that I'm going to take an approach for my career that I've pondered as an 'if-only-that-could-happen' my entire life. I've been giving advice and trying to understand personal struggle and development of the individual all of my life. Too many times I've joked, "If only I could just offer people help or advice for my job". For some reason it took me this long to have it click that it can, indeed, be done - so I've decided to pursue a degree in Counseling and Therapy. The application has been sent off to my alma mater, and I hope to hear back very soon.

In the meantime, I've continued to stock shelves at the pharmacy, and have even picked up a second job as a tutor (though business is only just starting in that venue). I've made a few new friends out of the acquaintances at the game shop, and I'm growing my circle in San Diego actually going out and, you know, doing stuff. Like watching lovely Ismael try and finish the Big Nick Burger from the local greasy spoon diner.


I've had family close during the last few holidays, including a hilarious first Halloween with Saria, and two delicious Thanksgiving feasts, one El Salvadorean and Southern from Simon's family, and the other a well needed and anticipated traditional roast that Hillary prepared. It definitely did not disappoint, and I have been happily gorging on Turkey for the last 10 days or so. In full cheesy family glory, we even went to watch the Christmas tree get lit in Balboa Park.
 

As for Christmas,  I'll also be leaving to visit the UK in about a week, and I can't wait to be back in Scotland for an entire month (it's becoming an annual tradition it seems!) and spend the rest of the holidays with the Roberts'! Most importantly, I can't wait to be reunited with Fiona after 5 months apart... it's been far too long. Hopefully an acceptance letter will do a lot to remove that problem from my life.

After years of scorning failure, I'm learning the necessity of putting yourself out there with no need for a finite or guaranteed return. Ironically, that is the only way you will make gains or progress for yourself. Every one of those tiny personal gains can contribute to actualizing a goal... so it's time to be certain of yourself, even if you may be uncertain of what those long off goals may be. While I'm not sure that'll make me a 'proper adult' or finally put me out of this limbo, I do know that by my standards it can only do me good and only lead me to better opportunities for the future. And I don't think I know a single person who this strategy wouldn't be good for, to some extent.

Going With Your Gut

Well this one is another over due post, but after getting a
much appreciated wake up call from my girlfriend about the relative monotony of my life (well... she just said everything I did sounded a bit boring - the face on the right sums it up), I needed to wait for something a bit more exciting to happen instead of just posting a long long version of "same stuff different day". Finally something has come along.

Last we left off, I was in a pretty dire mindset about the whole police thing. I did, as it turns out, get a 'We regret to inform you' letter maybe 2 weeks ago, but by that point I had already been moving towards changing focus and getting a new game plan so to speak. The industries that are most prevalent in San Diego are generally medical based, but that didn't particularly suit my education nor did I have a strong desire to push my way in by force. A few of those close to me have recommended teaching, but all of my experiences tutoring academic subjects have made me a bit hesitant - not to mention all the times I've told people about my degree in English and got the condescending response of "Oh, so I bet you want to be a teacher right?" has gotten on my nerves too many times for me to give in so easily. Admittedly, it will always be an option I can consider, I just don't want to jump in now. So I decided to break down and really go back to the basics that you used to think about when you were a kid: what do you want to be when you grow up?

Tackling the issue reminded me of a story my father told me of when he was younger and how he pissed off his pops when explaining what he wanted to do with his life. Mind you, my grandfather went by the only somewhat affectionate name of Grumpy, so I'm sure that wasn't too hard to pull off, but still I find this one memorable. Grumpy decided to ask my adolescent dad what he wanted to do when he grew up, to which dad replied, "Well, I want to do something different every day." Grumpy was a pragmatic man, and insisted harshly, "You can't do something different every day. You have one job. That's it." Of course Dad, the special snowflake he was, just shrugged and said, "You asked me what I wanted to do. I don't want just one job." In response, Grumpy was infuriated by how little sense it made, and Dad received some harsh Punishment if I recall correctly. The relevance lies in the outcome however; in his own way, Dad got what he wanted. His trade may not be as lucrative as some folks jobs, it certainly isn't glorified (until someone needs him on the spot), but Dad's job does seem to change every day. I have seen him as an architect, an engineer, an artist, a tattooist, a mechanic, a carpenter, an artisan, a sparky, a plumber, a plain work hand, and a foreman. I've heard of him as a part time drug dealer, a teacher, an army recruit, a meteorologist, a squatter, a handy man, and a down right delinquent. I've worked with him long enough to see that even employing the identical skills day after day, he makes a point to apply them differently if at all possible. While this lifestyle may not align with many people's career goals, in a way Dad did get what he wanted - he didn't end up with just one job. 

When I first heard that story, it made me chuckle, and I couldn't help but think of how like Dad it was to say something like that, even as a kid. As I grow older, however, I understand the sentiment. I feel with the infinite Opportunity there is with youth, there is almost a Fear of shutting off the doors to other paths you could take. It's a Fear of loss for something you've never had. So to take my next step, I figured, it must be about breaking down the Fear of losing that freedom to pursue something that is meaningful. Even in Dad's example, he has mastered crafts only too practical and still made time to dabble and Explore others in his spare time. My Mom is the same - 35 years as a nurse, filling entry to administrative roles, has not put her off passions from gardening and bread making to her pet birds, and now, still ever changing, Angry Birds. Why should I be afraid to commit to a career, then, when I can leave it to myself to Explore and improve in what other desires I may have?

So I went with my gut and went for an Opportunity that part of me has haphazardly dreamed about since youth - a chance to work in the video game industry. I applied for an entry level position with a very large company located locally in San Diego doing QA testing, and today I got a callback for an interview. Of course, its too soon to say whether I'll get it or not, but its given me an excitement that was different than other jobs I've applied to. Even though I'm certain I'd spend much of my time just running into walls in game and begging for glitches to happen, part of me almost feels like its a guilty pleasure that no one could possibly get paid for. That being said, I think its a prospect that also gives me a chance to add to something that I've found meaningful ever since I was a kid . It could provide me opportunities to be promoted and perhaps one day add creatively to the development of these projects. All in all, I'll be sure to bring my A-game on Friday, and let everyone know in my next installment the verdict on the position.

Aside from my new work prospects, I've been at the grind per usual. Shelf stocking has grown into a regular part of my life, photo trouble shooting more or less mindless rather than roller coaster of Panic, and I'm even starting to get a few more responsibilities here and there at the pharmacy. Though the clutter hasn't gotten much better.

I've nearly got a regular hang out with my coworkers, and with a girlfriend's guidance from 6000 miles away I've been making a point to spend part of my meager paycheck on making sure I'm getting out of the house and enjoying family time. Saria is getting bigger every day and is really starting to work her new found linguistic skills. Simon got a promotion and is both a brewer proper now and the resident Cask Master for small batch custom beers (I prefer his title of Mask Caster). And even my horribly nerdy card hobbies are even seeing improvement, as I took home a Gameday Champion play mat from my local gaming store last weekend after winning the entire event... even though many of the more skilled regulars were at a far larger tournament in LA.

 Things keep on going and I'm trying to make the most of my time while staying sane. I'm sure it'll be a while yet before I can take a proper breather - a lot may be changing pretty soon.

Constancy in Flux

How many times have you felt your life was running around in circles? And I don't mean the daily grind, or the places you regular... I mean over arching plans that end up placing you in the same exact place mentally or physically as you started, either through success or failure? I think its too easy, sometimes, to think you've been struggling to change yourself or your setting, to find nothing has truly changed at all. At least, its all too easy to start thinking that's the case.

I took my police examination this month, and I realized all my distance running hadn't ideally prepared me for the sprints, steps, and vaults of the short course. All together it was a distance traveled of only 500 yards, including going up and down roughly 70 steps, climbing over 3, 4 and 6 foot walls and dragging a 150 pound dummy, amongst other challenges. It looked deceptively easy, and most all of us were surprised by its difficulty. We arrived at 6:30am as the sun was coming over the horizon to shine on the exam course. Our primary testing officer gave us a speech to boost morale, encouraging us to band together and strengthen the resolves of our fellow candidates, and that they wanted us to succeed and be a part of the police force. He further insisted that we think of ourselves from this day forward as a team, and treat each other as such. People shouted cheers and responses of 'Sir, yes sir!', despite the fact ten minutes earlier we all were scoping out the competition.

What started as a nice cool morning turned into an oppressively hot day. It was odd seeing the mentality of many of my fellow applicants there - it felt like the sentiment expressed during the morning was perverted into only a superficially friendly gathering of team support, lined with antagonistic scrutiny and not so friendly competition. There was a tension in the air that wasn't test anxiety, but a constant feeling you had to beat the guys next to you, watching candidates make mistakes and noting them down for when you ran the course or alternatively being somewhat relieved that it was one less you had to best in the process. It wasn't something you consciously felt or pushed in your mind, there was no willful aggression - it was an undercurrent of feeling you knew just by watching others' expressions that they were feeling the same. Even some of the cheering and support from the crowd of 200+ applicants that was encouraged from the testing officers, and seemed genuine that morning, became labored or obligatory rather than any authentic empathy. The only groups that seemed closely bonded to begin with were the Marines and Navy candidates, and even their groups eyed the others with exclusionary contempt.Or just trying to flex their muscles big enough to make sure no one looked them straight in the eye.

Plenty of us made small talk together, waiting around and hearing the repeated phrases of 'Go, go, go!', 'Push!', 'Finish strong!' shouted by the coordinators. Even though there were 5 or 6 proctors, they all said the same phrases. I wondered if they were instructed even to keep those regular. I learned from a number of the other candidates their backgrounds, and they were very variable. Some worked desk jobs, others were straight out of college, still others did labor or unskilled work. Noone talked about why they wanted to join the police. It was almost as if everyone was intentionally avoiding that question, and I couldn't be sure if it was the fact they had been asked that question too many times, they had no idea what the answer was themselves, or were embarrassed what their honest answer may be. All I know is that a number of them, after hearing that I was currently working two jobs, informed me with sly smiles that, "You won't need two jobs after getting your first paycheck from this one." The sentiment was to be expected I guess... but it left the experience feeling a bit off.

I managed to pass the exam by the skin of my teeth - only fifteen seconds to spare in a three and a half minute exam. After sitting down for some rest then helping the testing proctors reset the course for other candidates for a while, my group of successful candidates from the physical exam proceeded to be escorted to a testing room to take on the Pre-Interview Questions (PIQs). This consisted of a packet of 400 questions about your past and moral character, as well as offering you space to explain any transgressions you made in the past. Of course it had all of the typical questions about drugs, previous arrests, etc. but it oddly asked many questions I never thought would be relevant... or perhaps disqualifying. Some of the more entertaining ones I enjoyed reading included: "Have you ever masturbated at work?"; "Have you ever committed cyber terrorism or attempted to by planting viruses in government computers?"; "How many times have you been drunk in the past calendar year?"(when I asked the detective to define drunk for me in this case, she gave me the equally entertaining answer of 'Well... I would define it as reaching the level where you couldn't function on your own, like passing out in a corner at a party or in a restaurant or something like that, but its really up to you what you consider drunk') The PIQ is designed to weed out bad candidates before performing a background investigation and a subsequent polygraph test, so honesty is paramount - and I didn't see much point in lying about my ethics for a position that was extremely ethically grounded. As a result, I admitted to 100's accounts of supplying alcohol to people under the age of 21, which happens all too easily with a drinking age of 18 in Scotland, as well as a number of instances of performing sexual acts with someone under 18 after reaching legal adulthood which qualifies as rape, despite the fact Fiona and I are still together and laws for consent are different on the other side of the pond. I then proceeded to recount instances of permitting people to use drugs in my presence, since I obviously can control everyone at random parties during college or, even better, at Burning Man, as well as some nostalgic stories about me getting suspended at school for smoking cigarettes and refusing to apologize to the assistant principle (though he was happy to let the other 4 guys off  got caught with me and begged for forgiveness). I got a mugshot taken of me for submission with my PIQs, and proceeded to leave the exam room with even more of a bad taste in my mouth.

I actually happened to know one of the testers for the police exam from my local game store that I play cards at, and asked him about my answers on the test as well as my score on the physical exam. He responded with a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, as if I just stomped on his toes, and a response of, "Oooohh.... Yeah... sorry to break it to you man, but it doesn't sound like too hot of an application to be honest..."

So who knows how it'll go? I could get a call back, but as it stands it doesn't sound very likely. And so I've ran myself into a circle it seems. Working two jobs was driving me up a wall as I had no time for myself and pulling two shifts almost every day in the week was draining me. So I ended up putting in notice for one, and work the other almost full time now. I won't stay stocking shelves and developing film forever though - and now I'm left in a position to go in any direction again. Following the police plan to fruition was meant to give me insight and direction for my professional life, and now it seems through the constant change and circumstance I have almost found myself in the same place I started coming back from university a year ago.

At this stage of still beginning my adult life, I feel often that I'm feeling my way through a labyrinth with no way to track where I've been, if I am following the same path I have before, or if I've been turned around and I am walking the opposite direction from when I've started. The riddle becomes even more difficult when you consider that the direction one walks or pushes towards in the maze doesn't matter, at least not until you figure out where it is you want to be. Moreover, it seems an even harder task to figure out what side of the structure I want to be spit out on when I do follow a path to completion. Every experience is valuable and can be utilized in one way or another at a different time, however, as a result of these sentiments, it feels as if my progress of development is slow if nonexistent.

That feeling, though, is one of necessity I think. Acknowledging that I'm going nowhere fast at this moment is more inspiration to redouble efforts and try something new. Trying anything is better than doing nothing. This failure on one front isn't a point of surrender or hopelessness but a realization that success must be found elsewhere. The key, I think, is to remain the certain despite everything changing, plans becoming undone, ideas being debased, or assumptions ending up debunked. The key is constancy in flux. And I intend to keep looking for the thing that will get me the satisfaction and pride I'm looking for in what I do - no matter how many times I fail. So what to do next? I can go in any number of possible directions... so that just means the world is my oyster, right? I guess its time to set up a new goal to achieve; I'll let you all know once I've got it nailed down.

P.S. Sorry about the lack of pictures this time around - but my scenery has pretty much solely consisted of this lately (fuck cleaning up cardboard). I'll be sure to get some good shots for next time.

Limbo Part 2: The 'Birch Boy' Edition

Entering a newly unemployed status again has been just as thrilling a process as the last few times... except for all the traveling, adventures, going out to cool new places, and all that jazz. So, in other words, it has been a lot less fun this time. After what little cash reserves got taken on extra expenses on the car I didn't anticipate (of course there were more screwed up parts!), rent, and my last grocery bill, I was pretty broke. It quickly broke down from a game of "Man, that place would be totally cool to work at. I'll apply there!" to "Job. Now. Close. Please." So, Fortune threw me a bone and I managed to get hooked up with a new gig within two weeks. Well, actually I got two jobs, because the more the merrier right? Wrong.

I now reside in a special place that I fondly think of as corporate retail's bottom rung. I work at two major corporate chains: one is a super market conglomerate and the other is the pharmacy equivalent. My job title's are both different, but are just fluffy phrases that ultimately translate to "Birch Boy" (since we're now trying not to cuss around Saria, who's talking more and more everyday). I guess that's to be expected when you get a job that quickly, and it's only a temporary deal anyway so whats the harm? As for the reason I picked up two jobs, both employers insisted that work would strictly be part time (they don't want to give me benefits) so I figured I may as well take both then, because two 20 hour weeks will just be the same amount I was working before I figured. I was wrong.

At the moment, I am working a 35-40 hour week at one and a 20 hour week at the other.  My tasks include, but are not limited to: heavy lifting, running around parking lots collecting shopping carts, bagging groceries and helping old women to their cars after their shopping is done, guiding random folks to the restroom, sweeping everything, cleaning toilets, silently judging what people are buying and being absolutely shocked at the sheer volume of soda/frozen ready meals/sweets included, attending to spontaneously explosive Gatorade bottles, making shelves look pretty, dealing with gallon smashers and what they leave behind, running around wildly to a manager whenever there is something they haven't taught me (which is alot) and covering anyone who is on break - whether they be a photo tech, cashier, whatever. The people are pretty alright, ranging from high school kids to proper middle aged career people, and their mindsets and attitudes are just a varying... it helps to keep the shifts a little more interesting. The most screwed up part is that I actually find this job much less stressful, easier to manage, and far more bearable than sales, even if I just do most the jobs no one else really wants to. Not to mention I'm learning very quickly the difference between a 40 hour work week and a 55-60 hour work week. Back to back shifts with no over time is pretty brutal - 12 hours on your feet gets tiring quick. You really realise how much a day off means when you don't get one since you commenced employment because if you aren't working at one location, you're definitely working at the other. But hey - no matter how many times I sit in the depressing break room and think, "God, I never thought I'd be doing this right now", it pays the bills right? And soon I'll have some spending cash to be able to go out and, like, do stuff or whatever.

Even when I'm not working, I am on the clock in preparation for my upcoming Physical Examination for the police this month. Well, it's not so much the initial test that worries me, as its only a 500 yard obstacle course, but rather the commencement of academy. They expect a certain degree of fitness - or rather they make you do exercise every day, so you better be fit if you don't want to die. As such, I've been taking special steps to make sure I'm prepared, breaking out the old workout tricks from back in my high school water polo days. Primarily calisthenics and cardio, I end up running about 2.3 miles 4 or 5 times a week, though that is sometimes an issue due to working schedules and other appointments. What started as a task full of disarray has actually translated into a decent amount of fitness that is growing all the time. To think my first run I only went about 1.6 miles, stopping and starting due to fatigue, and had to lie down in a bath for about ten minutes immediately after getting home to prevent myself from chundering every where, I'm surprised how much easier my runs are getting and how it's becoming just a normal routine - I guess that means I need to push myself harder.  Hell, there's another thing I'd never thought I'd be saying that to myself either. At least I'll be ready to run the 3.5 miles daily my first week of academy, not to mention getting out of the house a bit, and, who knows, maybe I'll lose a few pounds.

All this work is sort of a natural inclination - I feel like being a productive member of society (or something like that) is something I've been waiting all my life to do and all I've been preparing myself for. Which is sorta true I guess, but there's always been a part of me that feels like I wasn't offering myself to do more, and while I hope to find that in the police, I certainly am busting my ass for nothing very important in my full Birch Boy capacity. I mean, aside from making rent of course. My brother Reed and I got the opportunity to speak for a long while for the first time in at least a few months. Hearing about his work up in Portland, his friend groups, as well as certain projects and business ideas he is working with was fascinating of course, but he brought up something I'd never really given too much thought to.
 
 "Don't you think you're rushing into this a bit? Why don't you do more stuff for you? You're young man - You're going to have responsibilities soon. Why don't you go somewhere, do something? It may be hard on the wallet... but what is that couple hundred bucks gonna mean to you in 5 years?" Well, I know I'm definitely not gonna care about a place on this work decoration in 5 years.

Hearing that made my gut curdle a bit, like I'm missing out on some part of my life. I've never been very great at buying or spending for myself. The way he put it is that I'm so willing to throw myself under the bus for anyone that I care about, but I can't even be bothered to do something for myself aside from the necessary really. So his question stands: "why bust your ass with two jobs that you don't care about, working almost every day and if not working for other work, when you're 22 and need to go see and do stuff?" It's a hard one to answer. I know he's speaking from a place of logic, but its almost difficult for me to accept that this is my only chance for those things. I feel like I need to earn my opportunities, and truly make them mine. I need to work hard, and then enjoy the fruits of my labors, because as time goes on it almost feels like a stress not to be working towards something - at least in a grand scheme of some sort. Perhaps taking a trip, or treating myself to things I want now wouldn't change those big plans.... In fact I know they wouldn't, but I feel sometimes I need to be working the earth while I enjoy it. Otherwise it's not a good balance, and makes me fear that I'm wasting time. I've been trying to focus more on doing things enjoyable for me, being a bit more impulsive with things I want, but I find my impulsiveness is whats setting me down a career path so early.  More over, its hard to find the time between work... But I know I'll be working on it more. Its funny how easy it is to forget yourself when you think about plans, thoughts, ideals, relationships or any other thing in life - Reed has a point. There's no use martyring yourself over nothing... but what is 'nothing' in this case? It's all a stepping stone process it feels like, constantly fluttering in and out of what you might think are significant phases, but ultimately all parts are getting you to a destination. As for now, I just can't wait to be guaranteed a reasonable schedule so I can start taking advantage of that time and making sure that cash is going to not just the basics, but the things I enjoy. And I imagine there will definitely be some plane tickets thrown in there somewhere in the recent future - even if only for a weekend or so.

Work is introducing me to new people that are far more local than at my last job, so hopefully I'll have more adventures than just the occasional friend coming down (and getting plenty messy), a celebratory day from Germany's World Cup win, or the one day holiday Hillary, Simon, Saria and I got to take out to Idyllwild.

 

As for now, I'm trying to make hay while the sun shines. I need to take opportunities while I still feel enthusiastic about them - unless I want them to fizzle out into silly fantasies or that horrible 'Yeah it'd be cool, but a pain in the ass' feeling. If I've realized anything in the past few years, it's clear that figuring out what you want is the hardest part - but letting that want go for fear of regretting the decision later isn't such a simple decision. It's one of these conundrums where, to figure out what you really want, you gotta pour everything you have into it.  I'll make sure I'm making it all as worth while as I can in the mean time...  at least until something better comes along.

Restart

After what seemed like no time at all, it seems I've fallen far behind on my blogging efforts, so Ill try and give us a good reboot to get everyone back up to speed. Now right around the end of May when I was thinking about doing my monthly blog update (despite the fact not much had changed), I got a surprise visitor come to cheer me up from my day to day working struggle in my sales career. And it was absolutely needed.

When I say surprise, I mean absolutely tricked into finding her at the airport. Hillary and my brother in law Simon convinced me to tag along to pick one of their friends up from the airport. Dreading the next day, the start of a new work week on the phones, we made our way to San Diego international, and pulled up to the arrivals section. After waiting a minute and hearing Hillary text in the back, she told me to look outside the sliding reflective glass doors, and I saw her. I was greeted by our friend at the airport, who was in fact Fiona Roberts. I was absolutely dumb founded. Shocked and awed, I felt like I had somehow cheated time and space itself, since she was meant to get here in August. I got out of the car, still starstruck, and embraced her. Aside form the hugs and kisses, all she had to offer me was this cheeky smile for the next week and "I can't believe you didn't even realise it!!!".

Yeah, well, I can't be a mind reader all the time. So I've not had too much time by myself to write blog posts as it turned out - and certainly between a 5:30 am start and fun filled activities all afternoon I hardly had the time! Finally all the things I had put off doing in San Diego were being done now alongside my lovely visitor - beaching it every weekend, visiting Balboa Park, hitting the local festival in Solana, visiting the Birch Aquarium and kicking about La Jolla Coves, visiting the Cabrillo National Monument, changing Fiona's identity - too many things to relate them all accurately. 

 

 

 


Just know it was alot of running around and a lot of well appreciated enjoyment, relaxation and a fair amount of stress, mostly over my Volkswagen Beetle which was still in the process of getting fixed!! That doesn't mean I didn't give it a good go anyhow - the beach awaited after all!

 

Now I said before that I didn't want to make this blog a lush and flowery depiction of my love life, dramatic as it is, but I do want to say that I have been much much happier and inspired since Fiona's visit. I miss her already, and I can't wait for her to be back again.

There has been some big developments (if you can call them that...) on the other side of my professional life. It was a tiring 3 weeks trying to keep up with my sales position and Fiona's visit, and we spoke very often of my work, how I felt doing it, and the satisfaction it was giving me. Unfortunately, I realised very quickly that there wasn't really much to say about it. I had found myself in a grind of showing up to work on some fabled notion that I should because it'll make me a 'success'. Don't get me wrong, I learned plenty from that sort of job about self-responsibility and the efforts to make great gains in a nearly entrepreneurial setting based on delivering when the pressure is high. Those lessons will stick with me for life. However, over the course of May and June, that 'success' notion started to deteriorate: my sales team, who I derived a lot of inspiration from, was split up and our coach had to withdraw from her position; some of my best coworkers were let go based on performance or personal choices; Hell, I listened to tracks about positivity, sales and success every morning just to justify my job somehow to myself, and try and believe that it was getting my closer to some matured notion of doing whats right for me. The more I thought about it, the more I hated my job. I hated the people I spoke to on the phone and most of them hated me, I hated the abstract idea of success everyone thrived on but was so ill defined, I hated the fickle results driven world of sales and the constant responsibility to make sure you never rock someones boat or affect their mood. No matter how friendly or nice or unique an environment like that is, I found it to be stifling and devoid of a lot of personal contact, because my personality wasn't built to be positive 24/7. I found it exhausting, but I kept on soldiering on because I knew it would grow some part of me and I wasn't about to turn down money. My only friend I really had a proper bond with was the guy I carpooled with to work, Alex, and he really was chasing that success dream - trying to start his own company, working 2 jobs, getting involved in MLM's, all to prove it to himself or something. I tried the better part of 4 months to understand and define what Alex was chasing, but even the relative idea of everyone having different standards was unsatisfying. It was as if people were being told they wanted this thing without even being told what it is. I felt that people weren't chasing their own success, but were going through the motions that people promised would make them successful. All the tapes, our managers, it all seemed like they were selling to us - but it wasn't marketing or service, it was a promise that we would expand and develop financially, personally, or whatever. It did not matter who you were, they seemed to have the solution for you, as did every tape, every book and every manager. As a result I became more cynical, and when my group split I was put on a new team.

My new team leader was actually quite down to Earth, and unlike the rest of the managers, wasn't solely driven on results or empty promises. He treated his team members as people rather than number and gave them the respect of equals. In his eyes, he was no different than us; I admired his management style quite a lot, even if I was only on his team for half a month. After many chats, I told him of my resolve to leave my position and that I would start looking for new work - and he was not at all surprised. We talked about it often that I was good at this job, had the potential to be great, but I gained no satisfaction from it. He told me he supported any decision I would make professionally, and I definitely held him to that. We ended up having a friendly relationship that kept at the company definitely longer than I would've without it. As a culmination of all these things, and my constant feeling of wasting time behind a desk rather than being with Fiona, I quit my job the second I got a notice back from my next career path I've decided to pursue. While everyone but my manager was surprised, they all wished me the best, and I thanked them for the opportunity genuinely. That company did a lot for it's employees - I just couldn't bear to be one. Not for another moment, and certainly not for the rest of my life.

Now that I had bailed on the sales, I am pursuing a job in Law Enforcement. While working in the sales sector, I've come to understand it is absolutely essential to make sure that what you're doing (not just why you're doing it) is a meaningful act. As a telemarketer, I knew my product was good, my company's service was excellent, and we would make a vast improvement in any client we took on - so long as they did their part for their business as well. But there was no satisfaction as I could not see those effects, and everything about the process was an uphill battle. I felt that I was helping people who did not care to be helped, and didn't really appreciate the help either, and all it did was line their pockets with more money, or rob them to put it in ours. It became a matter of the act I did in performing the job was just a means to an end, and that end was primarily a paycheck. I honestly found more satisfaction serving at a bar and seeing people atleast having a good time with a beer in their hand. As a result, I've decided to join the Police because I know that every act I will do during the day would be conducive to both an immediate satisfaction of protecting and serving, as well as get me a financial gain. Moreover, I have the opportunity to move up to more intellectually stimulating positions, and I can work just about anywhere I like in the U.S., and higher up there are opportunities abroad if I am determined to pursue them. To me, this could be the first step in a line of work that could actually be rewarding and long term. I have to say... I am thrilled about it. Seriously.

 And while that sounds all good and dandy, and I'm certainly excited about it, I've found that I underestimated the hiring process.... and I've found myself with a 3 month lull until I could be potentially admitted into the program. So... what now? I've taken my first exam and passed, but I still wont have my next til mid August. It was definitely worth it for my two weeks of 100% devoted time to Fiona, but now I have to start from scratch again. Luckily I'm situated in a busy part of town, so there's plenty of places to apply to... but it seems like I'm back to square one again. Time to get back on the horse after an amazing vacation with my girlfriend, and hit the restart button. It's easy to see it as 2 steps forward, 3 steps back, but at least I know I'm moving in the right direction.

Grinding

'Day to day' life seems to be a thing that has been oddly foreign to me, and it took me til now to realise that fact. Having a full time job is one thing, but knowing that 5 days a week you are going to do the same thing day in, day out is a disquieting idea. I mean, at university or school, or working with Dad, it was always some new thing, and no two days' schedules were the same. But don't get me wrong - it's not because of its repetitiveness, or that eternal fear of wasting my life in a cubicle, but rather there is no longer the impromptu life holding me back from certain projects that I want to embark on. In other words, having a proper 9 to 5 (or 6:30 to 3:30 in my case) empowers you with the knowledge that you can commit and, therefore, hold yourself accountable to the fulfillment of a certain project or act.

Now, I'm sure plenty of you folks out there are going 'Well duh. Now you're an adult and you can do whatever you want... so what?' And with that being said... who the hell wants to work on something outside work? Like, do proper, excruciating, hard work? I'm sure this is flagrantly obvious that not many people would sign up for that, but everyone actually DOES want to, for creating or excelling in anything, no matter what it is, takes a remarkable amount of work for no short term incentive. Of course we would love some pat on the back for our extra efforts, but that simply isn't the case. I've realised recently that this may be why so many people coast or just float on what gets them by - it takes an unfathomable amount of faith for a person to pour every ounce of spare time into any one thing and hope for recognition of any variety. Everyone wants the recognition though. and I assure you, even if you do get some recognition for the things you've done, no one will have counted the hours, and you sure as hell would be disgusted with the amount that you've counted over the years. That's really what that personal success means.

So, with a job I thought was simple and relatively horrible with good chances of experience and ascension if one stuck it out, I've found new perspective on the first and maybe most important lesson of what it takes to do anything meaningful. Mind you, I do want to reiterate that a lot of what I do at the job is particularly meaningless. I mean beyond drinking coffee and clapping wildly at the morning meetings while I can't keep my eyes open... the vast majority of the job is in no way conducive to anything, aside from fulfilling a bullet point on the job description itself. Let's put it this way:  you make 200 calls a day (ideally). 3 of those people will talk to you (ideally). Most of those 197 people will never be anything that converts to profit for the company, nor will you ever be able to help them because they hung up the second they heard your name (ideally). Now, if these are the ideal statistics, imagine the actual ones. On a bad day I make close to 400 calls without a single person talking to me. Those days are really, really not fun. And remember, just because they talk to you and tell you they'd love to schedule an appointment, only around a third of them are telling the truth and will show up to let you make your case. Less than half of those that actually show think you've made a good enough point to read off a credit card. Success in this position is about cheating the numbers, otherwise you will never make quota.

Trust me, I look at those stats too, and go "Man oh man, Holt, that's a crappy job you've got right there. Seriously though. That shit is not cash."  Feels bad Man. No matter what breaks you get to look at white boards, it's all just delaying the fact you gotta return to that place.

However, we don't realise that the most horrendous part of this job is that it isn't a crappy job. It's just typical to every single effort outside salary and biweekly paycheck. It is the most simple, frustrating, self-loathing and misleading manifestation of every single human effort that has ever been notable. Every person I work with demands not just professional effort but personal effort of themselves. It no longer becomes an issue of hours put in for paychecks (thankfully we are lucky enough to have that assurance), but of  a self-belief that in a previous period in my life I could not at all find respectable. To continue this job, you must be blatantly and absolutely confident; you must assume you know better than the individuals you speak to, no matter where or when they come from; you must act better than every other rep on the floor, even your own teammates, and insist that they stand up to your standard; you must constantly damn yourself and find fault if only to wipe the board and adapt again; otherwise you fail. And you must do this all with a smile on your face, otherwise it renders the whole exercise pointless.

One phrase that is repeated at the job is that 'Sales is a transfer of emotion'. I know already that they aren't referring to only the emotion you project on the phone or in person or whatever. They are referring to every single moment of frustration, doubt, and hate you overcome. Every emotional obstacle overcome becomes a victory that is transferred in the sense someone perceives you, even if it just a floating voice, and suddenly, it is no longer a whisper in an ear, but an adjudicating authority. One's self perception can form a persona that changes the entire future of another individual, for no other reason aside from having no doubt about the mentality assumed. Trust me, it sounds like absolute bullshit to me too, but only 2 months in, I've already seen and lived it myself. It is an epiphany moment to find yourself taking down the key to a persons finances after an hour on the phone, after introducing yourself to that person only 2 hours prior. It becomes wisdom when you acknowledge that the moment you ring the sales bell and wrote it on the board, it did not happen all in that moment, but that sale had began the second I stepped into that building and was a sum thereof. I imagine that every other endeavor in our lives is much the same, and that shouldn't be a surprise to anyone - its just understanding what exactly the extent of those efforts actually are.

I think people are always hoping for that bell to reverberate clearly through their lives, and when they see, hear or read of it happening, it looks like a single event. Greatness becomes desired for the chime of the bell - but it truly consists of the foolhardy, impetuous and unending work that led up to it and follows after. Everyone wants to ring that bell, but it is so hard to fully grasp what it really is to do it. I feel that this job has brought me that much closer to understanding what is required for me to achieve what I need and want to. That's not just in action, but also belief. While it may sound commonsensical and like we all heard it before and that its an age old cliche that everyone is tired of, I assure you that most of us, perhaps myself included, will never know what exactly it demands of ourselves to truly achieve everything we want. I still find solace knowing I'm reaching to get one step closer to the answer though, no matter how roundabout the method seems.

So my primary learning vehicle these days? It's grinding. The word is only too apt... it reminds me of my impatience back in my youth with some online games. My dad used to play with us, and oddly enough, to Reed and my surprise, he certainly exceeded us. We used to always say dad played an awful lot on that MMORPG, so of course he was high level, but I never really ascertained what exactly that was. He grind-ed every day, a few hours at the time despite working all day, until he was happy with what he had done. I remember wishing my character was as good as his... but really it was never a question of making your character good. It was always about understanding what it took to be good, let alone the best. All it boils down to is the Grind.

My Why?

I've just finished my first 3 weeks of work, got my first paycheck, and feeling pretty good about having nothing to do for the day. So, I figured this would be a good time to fill in anyone who has been waiting to know what is going on in my employed life (because I'm sure the suspense has gotten a bit unbearable for all you folks).

The company I work for has a sorta... unique culture. I'll give you a brief taste for the sake of the sheer disorientation I felt on my first day and continue to feel if I let myself think over the volume in the office. Looking back at the interview stages, its apparent they were primarily awkward because I was rocking a slick ass suit while everyone on the sales floor was wearing jeans, and some even trainers. And my final interview was made even more uncomfortable since a lot of people were in shorts and t-shirts due to the company's casual Friday, while I was dressed, once again, in a 2 piece. Now I'm finally on the other side of the fence, walking in to work a standard employee (or trainee or whatever), and 6:15 am, and wearing jeans to an office job. And that's still kinda weird to begin with. Then you add the auditory sensation of being blasted with surround sound around the entire office.  The musical collection includes great, memorable artists that are all too effective at focusing you on work, such as Skrillex, Miley Cyrus, W&W, Avicii, etc. It's like they decided to put on a NOW: greatest club hits - but at 6 am. So you put your stuff down at your desk, and follow your trainer into a section of the floor boxed off by cubicle walls, and take a seat at the front of a bunch of rows of folding chairs. In front of you is a projector screen with this image on it:

And suddenly you get the very odd feeling that you are not at your first day on a new job, but you've arrived in some strange detainment facility for that brainwashes folk with chart music. And soon the entire office is filing in, and at the desk next to the projector screen, there's not a soul. Then everyone sits down and starts doing a drum roll on their thighs, until its so loud its almost hard to hear the music battering my face from a speaker 10 feet in front of me, and finally it stops and everyone is screaming shouts of joy. I turn to see what the hell the commotion is about, and turn around to see a man with short, black spiky hair in a black suit and a bright purple shirt running down the middle aisle between the rows of seats, high fiving all the employees in the central seats of the rows (who are still cheering as loud as possible), until he makes his way to the front and shouts, "GOOOOOD MORNING (insert company name here)!!!!!!" It is now 6:30. The strange detainment facility has spontaneously combusted into a noisy summer camp for morning people who like to hang out indoors. and all I can think is "whatthefuckisgoingonIdon'tevengame."

So that part is pretty fun I guess. Alot better than drab corporate grey with budget memos and water cooler talk and some asshole in the corner of the office who's got a weird tie that curls upwards and thinks he's funny.  I mentioned last time this is a sales job, but I guess I should be a bit more specific. I work for a company that develops software and does internet/social media marketing for residential Realtors, and its my job to ring up everyone in my assigned territories and sell them our service. Which sounds an awful lot like telemarketing.... and sorta is.... but its not SO bad since I'm just calling business to business, and hey! Our product actually seems pretty good, and has pretty good feedback from our clients. Of course, that doesn't negate the fact you have to temporarily piss off about 100 people before you find one that's the slightest bit interested... only to talk to them for an hour, call them back and give them a presentation of the product for another hour, discuss price for another 40 minutes, and them have them say 'no'. And then there's the awful excuses that I can't even imagine why they would say this to get off a phone (seeing as they can just hang up). Seriously though, I've only just started this job and I had 3 people in a single day tell me they were at a funeral, which is just 'wtf?', especially considering I reached one of them on their office phone. But thats the fun part! Much better than researching online looking for folk to call, or going through the lists of hundreds of names a day without even getting them to talk to you. I think the dial tone on a telephone will be associated with suicidal thoughts if I don't get better at getting people talking within the first 15 seconds of the phone call. Who knows, maybe it'll make me better at talking to people in real life, which I have an ineptitude at that my friends never seem to notice.






The job actually makes you focus a lot on what our trainer refers to as 'your why'. Why do you have this job? What inspires you to  talk primarily to people who hate you on the principle that you are selling something through the medium of telecommunication? At first I had a lot of trouble with this - but I took this job because I'm trying to keep an open mind. It seems even the managers main goals from their job at the company was financial or material - neither of which is a great motivator for me. As long as you paid me enough to pay base expenses and a few bucks a week for some pints, I could literally do any job so long as I thought it was meaningful or provided some utility that was important. And it's difficult to find the meaning in talking into a electronic device in order to sell a product I have no experience with developing or using to a person who has little or no interest in the product anyhow. I get an okay wage, and each sale means more cash, but I can't even think of something I want to buy - unless its things to give to other folk... or stupid relatively inexpensive shit like magic cards.  Its the same with every job though - the reason we work is to get paid. It just leaves more to be wanted though... and I wonder if that want will grow or diminish over time. I think my success in this job will be determined by whether I will find my position more and more insignificant, or my own personal feelings non-sequitur. At the moment, I think my 'why' is to be doing something and meeting people. I've met a lot of cool coworkers, as most people at the job are in my age group. And I've had plenty of great adventures to keep me busy and certainly frustrated, which is much more fun than being content and bored right?

Poor Volkswagen broke down on the way to work... and gained me a carpool buddy. Atleast I've got something to wake up for, and having a purpose, whether you like it or not, is important. And I'm doing fairly well at it too - only two weeks on the phones and I already have made 2 sales, and scored my first sample of bonus potential. Not bad at all!

I know it doesn't sound like theres much going on, but transitioning to a 9 hour a day work week is a bit exhausting and I've either had not much time or will for recreation (hence the late blog post). But I'm finding out more and more about San Diego certainly, and visiting new places as well. The days are getting a bit longer, but they're certainly getting more wet and stormy, and its nice to smell seaside fog in a place I thought I was going to be boiling alive everyday.

I've had some chances to tromp through the heavy rain, visit some antique and thrift shops nearby - gotta love those Blue Boy and Pinky lamps - as well as catch up on a few doses of Pho that were long over due. Not to mention the exploration of some dives and breweries, and frustrating the hell out of Simon with our games of darts (but that's mostly because he hates to lose and I don't mind). So its all falling into place slowly - who knows, I might have to upset the balance just to get out of a rut. But for now I'm hanging in there, enjoying a paycheck, and slowly converting to being a morning person through the means of people clapping for you when you ding the bell for a sale.... We'll see how long that lasts anyway...

Limbo

So things have gone pretty well since coming home. I arrived from a long flight back to California, and I was tired as hell and certainly loopy. I got a lift from a good friend who I paid back with a proper American burger (thanks again Sara!), and managed to get back to my dads that night. The next morning, I was up at 7 am, did a valve job on the Volkswagen, and set out for San Diego with my luggage, which comprised almost the entirety of my earthly possessions.

 It was actually so relatively painless I couldn't believe it. So painless, in fact, that every part of me felt that I must be accruing some horrid tab with fate that would be paid back as debilitating obstacles around every corner during my search for employment. So I searched for jobs, applying to every advert I could find from the normal sources, and then finally turning to Craigslist and sending out some feelers which I'd never done before. It just seemed so sketchy, but I was told employers are more chilled out on there so I went for it. Lo and behold, I avoided the universe's expected kick in the nuts again, and got an interview within the first week of sending out applications.

So here's the deal. I haven't written a blog post in so long because I feel I'm in a bit of limbo. I went out and got myself a suit, interviewed 3 times against candidates that seemed to have more expertise and interest than me and got myself a new job. I reckon it must've been my delicious wit and professional charm, or my sexy suited look... or the attention my loud ass Beetle attracted in the parking lot. I guess its a good thing I got my hair cut between the purchase and the interview though.

 It took me 2 weeks to get a job, however I have to wait til the next month to begin the job. So I'm just kinda... here. Waiting. I feel like the hammer is gonna drop and I'm going to get squashed like so many more before me - and yet good things keep on happening. Admittedly, the job is a sorta corporate cold calling sales deal, but I'm making efforts to give new opportunities I'd have previously dismissed a chance. I figure I have all the time in the world... if I'm gonna waste it, at least I can make a paycheck and have some satisfaction of work and a reference to put on my resume. The place seems fun and the product is good. Any office that has a certain lack of cubicles and blares Daft Punk through the office wide speakers seems pretty cool - I wouldn't have taken the job if it didn't at least seem fun from the outside looking in. I still have that lingering feeling of impending doom. I guess its in my nature a bit to be suspicious of things that seem too good to be true...

Other than that, I have been trying to settle into the first proper home I've had since maybe my dad's old place in high school. In Scotland, I'd always knew that living situations were temporary - even if I did stay in the country I'd be moving to a different place if and when I got a job, so I never bothered fully settling into a flat, even if I had one for 2 years. After Uni, it was short stints in different lodgings, whether it was dads couch, mom's empty house, my cousin's place, Fiona's flat or an assortment of campsite along the road to Portland. None of those were homes though. So now its trying to focus on what I want to do, what my recreation will be as I transition into full time working life. I've found local bars and restaurants thanks to Hillary and Simon (especially an awesome El Salvadorian place).

 I discovered some hobbies I can pursue, whether it be craft beer or even bloody card games with Simon. There's even a damn game shop around the corner. Not to mention I've gotten to working on the car and getting some tattoos from my dad.

But even the act of changing my bank accounts and driver's license to my accurate address is a strange transition into a permanent when I've been so long without one I guess. The emotional complex involved in binding yourself to something is a bit more difficult than I thought it would be, considering certain goals I would like to achieve in the next few years. It's odd making job commitments when you want to travel or even live in other countries for extended periods of time at some point in your lifetime. I try to justify it as gathering skills to make those opportunities happen, but it still feels strange.

Beyond just personal interests, I've been enjoying my time with family. One of the reasons I wanted to move back to the states was to spend time with my niece and be able to visit family more conveniently. Even though my mom and brother are no longer in Southern California, I've enjoyed this month spending time with my sister and getting to know Saria a lot better and figuring out all her idiosyncrasies and seeing her good and bad behavior. Viewing the state of being we all were in once is so enlightening, and its turned out to be a cerebral experience for me.

It is remarkable to see a small creature learn and grow into what will eventually become an equal. Moreover, its even more incredible to interact with children only a few years older, and see how developed they are in comparison. Hillary's friend has a 4 year old and sometimes babysits another one - and its amazing to see what only 2 and a half years will do to Saria. And then you think about your own feelings and wonder what 21 more will do. It's easy to see how your concerns, anxieties and problems are so small and transient in our personal growth... I've found it to be a pacifying and comforting way of looking at this period of transition. It seems more  sensible to not look at this time in my life as transitioning, but rather our entire aging process as one massive metamorphosis of sorts.


I guess this post was a sort of big summary of... well not much. Lots of little things, but I feel like I'm mostly biding my time. Its as if I'm just emulating adulthood without quite being there yet - but I guess we have to go through the motions sometimes until we realize exactly what we are doing or what we have done. That doesn't change the fact that the suit still felt a little grown up for me... I'm sure next time I'll have some more light to shed once I actually start my new career - only a week to go!