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Saturday, September 6, 2003

I am reclaiming this blog in the name of my newfound sense of happiness.


MOOD: happycontentexcited

BACKGROUND: Plan 9 from Outer Space


I am happy. I am healthy. I am happy and healthy. A wise little birdie let me know that the only time I ever write in this shitty little blog of mine is when I'm sad or angry or depressed. Well screw all that. I am extremely happy now, extremely positive and focused and driven and all in all happy to be alive. I'm amazed to even hear me say it. I'm happy as hell and I'm feeling great and my car is working fine and I have two days off and I have a movie in pre-production and I'm healthy and I'm feeling like I'm just flying on a cloud right now. Disneyland happy. That's how I feel.


Work? It's there. What I've been trying to do lately is just tell myself that, amid the work drama and the work backstabbing and the Machiavellian political maneuvering, I try to take a deep breath and say to myself It's just work, man. Relax. It's just a fucking bookstore. Try to place my work in its proper context. When working Barnes and Noble is at its worst it's still better than 75% of all the other jobs in America. And besides, I am not my job.


The bar? The hell with that. I am honestly and sincerely sorry to any of my old bar buddies, any of my old drinking buddies from back in the days, that might be reading this. I don't drink anymore and I don't smoke anymore so there's no reason that I should go to that small, dingy, dirtbag bar. No offense to all those people that I really got to know and love and respect, but I've been sober for ten months and smoke-free for almost a month, so why should I go to a bar at this point in my life?


And besides, I'm pretty sure that the bar is alive and that it wants to kill me. And I'm serious. Here's the story ...


One of my first sober nights, there was this guy at the bar who, through his own sheer stupidity, will remain nameless. Yeah, I was sober but I still spent most of my nights at the bar. That was really stupid of me, in retrospect, but I was having a hard time being sober and I wanted to hang out with my friends, all of which were hardcore drinkers at this ugly little dirt bar. So one night this friend of mine is bragging about how he, twentysomething guy, fucked this 48 year old lady at the bar. He went around proud like he just won a gold medal in the stupid olympics. He told me he was the alpha male of the bar now that he did the impossible and screwed this chick. The idiot.


He told me not to tell his girlfriend at the time that he had screwed this other chick. And out of nowhere I blurted out that I wouldn't tell his girlfriend, that the bar itself would find a way of letting her know that he had cheated on her. And then it came to me, the idea that the bar itself is a living, breathing entity kept alive through the negativity of its occupants in a very real, very Stephen King sense. Everyone every night coming in angry, getting in fights, dispensing drama, trading gossip, getting drunk which in and of itself is a negative act seeing as how alcohol is a depressant, and the bar was once a dormant building until so much anger and negativity floating through its doors caused it to stir. And now, like a bad horror movie, the bar is alive and it needs negativity to survive.


And I told my friend that the bar, which is alive and very much evil, will find a way to let his girlfriend know about his cheating ways. And sure enough, she somehow found out through the bar grapevine about his cheating and there was a lot of yelling and fighting, all of which happened underneath the roof of the bar's hungry mouth. That's now how I see the bar, as an evil entity, and I got out of there a month or two ago. I just stopped going to the bar, stopped spending every waking second there, stopped going entirely, and I've been working out and eating right and getting healthy and feeling happy and proud and content in my sobriety and yeah I miss the singing and the friends but I do not miss the bar. Not one bit.


Religion? Going well. Ever since I saw Ed Wood's magnum opus of a film, the legendary "Plan 9 from Outer Space" on the big screen at downtown Sacramento's legendary Crest theater, I've been a changed man. I've been a man that is no longer content with sitting on the sidelines anymore. I cannot just sit on my ass doing nothing. My life does not revolve entirely around the bar. I am better than that. And Ed Wood is helping me realize that.


This is me happy. This is me happy and healthy and positive and in love and feeling like a man. And this is me reclaiming my blog.


ED WOOD IS MY SAVIOR