What I May (or May Not Have) Learned about Life from a Prank Caller
Long time no rambling-into-the-empty-void-of-the-internet! I never know how to start these things. Especially now, after taking such a long break from doing anything that required an ounce of creativity or brian power. I can’t even pretend I had a good of writing stretch going before I fell victim to by own defects. Nor can I claim any sort of righteous excuse. I wasn’t traveling or off having wonderful adventures… I was kind of just living life.
So there’s a macabre start.
In the course of the last year I’ve moved to a new city (which is kickass) and lost 38 pounds (equally kickass). I started a new career, made some new friends, rekindled old relationships, quit that career for a new one, quit some new and old friendships for some more enriching ones (and most importantly: for myself), and have been learning how to be an adult.
It’s been rather anticlimactic.
And perhaps the most indicative example of my life, as I see it now, is personified in this new man in my life. He’s called me every day since our strange, psychotic relationship began. He’s a coy man who calls at all hours of the day… just to keep me on my toes. Regardless, always prepared, waiting expectantly, I’ll answer and there’s be a pause on the other end.
I say, “hello?”. Another pause.
“Yes… fuck you.” Click.
This has been going on for weeks. And yes, I could just block his number. But this mystery guy from the greater Seattle area intrigues me. Not only that, I can’t tell this story to anyone without laughing. Most of the time I can hardly even get through the story because I’m hyperventilating with giggles. It’s so ludicrous and obscene… and just embodies my current state of existence in words I can’t otherwise explain. So I love it.
For the record, I don't think I've ever had a television show represent my relationship with the puppet master of my life better than this interaction in Orange is the New Black:
Over the last few months, I’ve been trying to take inventory of my life. In fact, I’ve been getting rid of all the shit in my life that’s been burdensome on me: things and people included. And in fact, I’m standing straighter (though due to scoliosis not literally) and my eyes are brighter (again, not literally: they’re still shit colored).
In removing some of these burdens in my life, I’ve come to realize not only am I not living to my fullest potential, but I’m not even happy with the mediocracy I’ve bought table runners and coffee tables for.
So I’ve been making some changes (unfortunately for you).
I’ve decided to start writing again, so I can start preparing for the life and career I’ve always dreamed of. Again, sorry for that. And in turn, I’m following the guidance of my literary idol, Stephen King, and (not literally) “blowing up” my TV. Again, to be prepared for whichever cliff I begin veering my life towards: I’ve starting practicing my German more rigorously. And speaking of cliffs, I’m dedicating more time to travel and developing my other means of creative expression like painting and photography.
Most importantly, though, the guiding force for all of the above--the asterisk dictating its ability to trump all other rules: if something requires a fuck that I cannot or do not want to relinquish, I tell it “fuck you” (sometimes literally).
I like to think I’m taking this advice from my prank caller. That somehow, in this life or another, I shit in his sandbox and he’s just carrying out his own righteous liberation. But to be honest, I’m not sure if I’ve even met someone from Washington.
Long story long: this post it to formally warn you, the internet, that I’m going to be coming around these parts more often. I think it’ll be an interesting journey as I learn to be more mindful, tuned in to appropriate outlets, and wary of relationships that don’t benefit me or my campaign forward.
And somewhere along this journey, I hope- one day- I can be as emboldened and bravado as my favorite prank caller and tell more of these obstacles, “fuck you”.