Choices

Can you remember the very first time you had a drag of a cigarette? Mine was at a sleep over with my little league baseball team in a lower middle class neighborhood of St. Louis Park, MN. The host was the son of a single mother who smoked Marlbro Reds and drank cheap whiskey. We were a clan of nine boys all under the age of 12 without the proper supervision. We watched Aliens and crank called the whole city while searching the liquor cabinet for some unknown drink which was not the normal 2% milk I was used to. I remember one of my teammates pucking on the hardwood floor after taking a sip of some colorless liquid from a bottle with a red label. Then came the cigarettes. It was then I had to make a choice. It was late, and I knew if I called my mom I would no longer be seen as a leader on my team, if I called my mom, I would be in trouble. So, the cigarette came my way and I inhaled with an untrained breath. I coughed and coughed till I became red in the eyes. Everyone laughed as I passed the burning tobacco to the next sucker who already knew what fate awaited him. To this day, I believe it was the most horrible experience I went through as a child. I made a choice I knew was wrong, yet even at the age of 12, I went against everything I knew was right.
I had a conversation with a friend of mine last night about the choices we make as adults. His rhetorical question was "is it that life and situations become more complicated as we get older, or do we make life complicated by our choices?" Peer pressure becomes less obvious when we age. We know the decisions we make are our decisions, we are independent, logical and experienced.
The choice I made last night to go home after having this conversation with my friend instead of spending the night on the couch, was by far the best choice I've made in the last 4 weeks. Why? Because I actually took some time this morning to figure out what the hell was wrong with my iPod...I fixed it. It works now. I wish every choice would have the same outcome.
I'm still inhaling life with an untrained breath and coughing till my eyes turn red.

First Year Done...Today!

It's official, in the record books, taken care of, been there done that...I've completed my one year of service to my current employer. This Corporate America thing didn't seem so difficult to navigate at first, and to be honest, it's nothing more than a large expanse to cross. I don't feel like I'm anywhere closer to the goals I had a year ago, the sales cycle here just takes too damn long. Highlights of my first year:

• Promotion and transfer to CA from Mn in the first four months of service (with a promise of a substantial increase in pay) *yet to be determined*
  
• Travel experience within the second month of relocating (Chicago, New York, Houston, Minnesota)
• Company phone, personal computer, leather chair, paid time off
  
• Given the responsibility of project manager for International accounts

I'm still lamenting the fact I live in Orange County and constantly re-evaluate my current state of existence, but it's something we all go through (minus the OC thing). I was told the other day by a sibling of mine, while I was expressing my intention or thoughts of moving to the East Coast, "y'know, you should probably be thinking about settling down somewhere." "Settling down", what a thought. I really wonder if that's in the cards for me anytime soon. I'm pretty sure I've decided to create a life around me which promotes an environment rich for movement. I have a "leave at a moments notice" mentality. A quote from The Saint (the movie) "a traveler in search of purity" comes to mind (minus the purity). Yet I see the domestication of my college friends, their children, their flatware, bath towels and see the future. It looks interesting and comfortable, but I know I still have some "single life" things to take care of before I create an environment rich for "settling down." I'll be frank though, I really don't think I'll ever create that environment until I see a reason to do such. Maybe when I start losing my hair I'll think about it.

I need to get creative

My creativity itch hasn't been scratched in a long time. I used to print photographs, frame them etc. I used to invest many hours in the dark room listening to Beck's Midnight Vultures while solarising my black and whites. Projects. I once did an installation, a self portrait with cigarettes. The photo below really doesn't have a theme to it, it doesn't really speak to anything. Sure, I think it looks cool and it's pretty self absorbed, but, doesn't really say anything.
My Critique-
Backdrop: Reciept from a bar in Chicago
Mixed Photos: Billy, Brent, Buildings, Kissing
Text: eh, whatever...more dramatic than needed
Maybe it's saying something like, "yeah, I am pretty damn awesome, see how badass I can look?" or "I'm an alcoholic and I have nothing to invest in accept my self pity...but I have friends see? oh...and I look awesome"
Overall it's a cool looking photo, but there's nothing to it...it's like Pot Pie minus the Pie.
I need to get creative, if I don't, I'll just sit around looking at the wall wondering why I'm not creative anymore. Self pity isn't a theme either.