buy the time …

Archive for April 2010

I sit at my temporary receptionist job and all around me I here the clicking of keys. Typing in unison. For many, this job was not a second choice, not even a close fourth but it pays the bills. “You gotta do what pays the bills,” even at the expense of your soul. Three o’clock will hit and so will the expected lull. Those Five-Hour Energy commercials show people staring off into space then sprining into action, but they never show what really happens after one takes a swig. They should feature energized people at their computers doing word jumbles or launching hot-dogs into moving buns.

Often my compatriots will refer to themselves as drones. Amongst the definitions on Dictionary.com, DRONE means: “the male of the honeybee and other bees, stingless and making no honey.” Useless. Impotent. Now the people I work with are not useless at all.  In fact they are a viable resource for the company. When we say drone we are referring to how we feel in our jobs – without the power to taste purpose. We find what we do empty and unfulfilling. On the other hand, there is a bond that forms amongst the artists, writers, parents, free-lancers of life, who have the opportunity to make money while striving for other things. That blood pumps through our veins, not electricity through fiber optic cables. We use AIM to remind our fellow bee brethren that there is more to existence outside of the hive. LOL does not stand for “laugh out loud” but “live out life” and BRB stands not for “be right back” but “Break, Refer, Beers.” We all look to see that clock tick six to set us free.

Life shouldn’t be the minuscule moments between work and sleep or the few years we hold sacred between clocking out and checking out. We are bombarded by phrases like “live life” and “get a real job.” I don’t want those to be mutually exclusive. Today I go in for a meeting with the big boss man to talk about how they will utilize me in the future. At this moment, I can not financially afford to give up anything that would create a little stability. At the same time, I refuse to let my stability get in the way of my illusive goals.

If the goal is to go from male without a stinger to the queen; then a Trani-Bee must make sacrifices in pursuit of sweet success.

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The moment has come where bitching and complaining has turned into action.  The reason I’ve been non-blogging (how many ‘g’s go into this made up word) is a result of big changes in my life.  I said I wanted more money to get a new computer; so I took a temp job and now I have a new shiny MacBook.  Every time I use it I still wrap it back in its original packaging to be put away in a special cubby.  I said I wanted to break into films; I now have a job doing coverage for an executive producer.  I said I want to be a writer; I will be completing my first screenplay by the end of the month with Script Frenzy and a director/producer is interested in my plays.  I said I wanted to move in six months; I just got offered a second job that will help me pay off my debt and for the first time since 12th grade I will be building savings.  Things ‘are a changing.’

With my art I have managed to be focused with a fuzzy lens.  When convenient I say I’m an actor, then at times I’m a writer depending on the hoops I prefer to jump at the time.  Switching between the two then became an excuse for not succeeding in the other.  “I’m not really acting right now so I can focus on my writing.”  When the writing gets hard I look to acting again.  I run that treadmill.  The same can be said about grabbing the occasional well paid job over what I really want to do.

We talk about money so much in this city, how expensive rent is, food, quenching a growing booze habit to cope with living in the crux of human hubbub.  To me, and many, the word SAVINGS is like Narnia, it is something that only exists in fantasy.  We work so hard to stay a float, swimming from one part time job to another.  Snatching a few dollars between strokes in hopes of reaching financial paradise.  The idea of making money doing what we love is the dream we keep on the boat for.  Our growing fears about money and direction start to grow.  Hesitation begins to burrow holes in the hull.  When is it time to jump ship?

For the next six months I’ve decided to save and write, write and save.  Swim without getting swallowed by the waves, the sharks, or my own doubt.


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  • Jessica: LMFAO.. How ever, Flavianas ass is REAL! shes from Brazil they are ALL genetically mutated that way... and Beto, he is from Colombia..no brazillian ac
  • mia: Hi, cracked up! flaviana does appear randomly and knows how to hog the camera....but i must say she did have her "15 minutes of fame" in Latin America
  • Sally: I THOUGHT THE SAME ABOUT THE WEIRD REDHEAD!!!!!!!

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