Motivation is something that never seems to stick with me. I wouldn’t say I’m a quitter, but I know I constatnly finding myself loosing track of what it is I am trying to accomplish. I’ve been waiting tables for the last 15 months, bartending on top of that and drinking like freshman girl at a frat party. It’s ridiculous. I know I’ve applied for an un-godly amount of jobs, but it’s just not enough. I need to set some goals here. I need to have a plan of action. I can’t just sit around and wait for the world to grant me my greatest wishes. I should really know better. The worlds done a lot of crapping on me since I graduated college. But then again, I’ve let it all happen.
I received a phone call yesterday from a mysterious number. I looked at my phone, debated on answering and with some slight shred of optimisim believed it could be someone wanting to give me a job. I was entirely wrong. It was Doug Henderson. The crap of the world. And once again, he landed right on top of me. He asked me to get dinner with him, I refused. Asked me to go to a movie, I claimed I’d fall asleep. After a continuing annoyance he said, “well lets just get drinks. I have a proposition for you and we need to discuss it”. I was scarred at this point, but felt some tinge of nostalgia and maybe even kindness (maybe). I met up with him at Cheeseburger in Paradise.
While sitting in the waiting area waiting on him I though about leaving. I didn’t want to see him. That’s played it course. It’s a thing of the past. It’s some really old shit that was dropped on me that I didn’t need. I had lost my motivation to be kind to him. But it was too late. I saw his ugly jeep pull into the parking lot. He jumped out and started toward me. Gross. He had ugly dirty longer hair that flipped out at the end. A shitty half grown handlebar mustche and tacky looking glasses. He was a child molester. We were seated, he made a spectacle of everything as usual and then asked me to move to L.A. with him.
If you know me you know I can’t stand being around people who are always clobbering each other for attention. L.A. is the last place I would ever want to be. Aside from being an annoying gay meca, we all know the place is going to fall off the country into the ocean. Doug seemed to have this odd idea in his head that I wanted to be an actor or a rockstar. I enjoy doing both things. But i’m not a professional at all. and I have no desire to. He proceeded to tell me I was the most positive person he knew, I was enegetic and brighteyed. I laughed at how odd this was. I am none of things. Not anymore. Maybe in high school. but the world has made me too bitter and cruel to be naieve and excited about life. I told him I wouldn’t go. Had one more drink then went on a rampage about how pathetic he was. He doesn’t know me. Why would he ask a starnger to move away with him? What a freak.
And so here it is, the big connection. I am tired of shit landing on me. I am buying an umbrella. I want to focus on being motivated. Not drunk. Not high. Not mad at the world. Not heartbroken. Just motivated. Motivated. I don’t want to be some moron like Doug Henderson making up crazy scenarios and wasiting time saying he’s going to do all this stuff. I don’t want to be an image. I want to be …… that’s a good question. I want to be me again. I want to have some purpose. to feel like I love something so much that I will work my ass off to acquire it. Why is nothing exiciting to me anymore? I guess I need to branch out. And I really need to quite writing stupid heart broken Xanga’s. I just get mad and delete them. i’m rambling. darn.