A Note from the Management

Soon, my life will be completely different. Like, tomorrow. I’m cutting the net, flying solo without a harness, and taking a chance to quit my job and focus on a few things like writing and photography for a bit. I guess I’m putting my money where my mouth is and living the unexpected life I try to urge others to do. I’ll tell you about that down the road, but for now, I’m still internalizing.

It’s a little daunting, though, but exhilerating. Today’s my last day at my film industry job that’s been like family for six years. Tomorrow, the net’s gone. Whew. It’s one thing to know what you need, it’s another to actively take it. Oi, is it.

Now I can get back into the habit of writing every morning. I love morning writing. Coffee, night-thoughts, the world busying itself beyond my windows. The light. I love the morning light. My apartment faces east, so my apartment is buttered in light on the sunrise mornings. It’s a lazy, casual world.

I’ve never written here about my home, but I imagine that among us sensualists in the world, there’s more than a few who share my need for a cocoon. I bathe myself in the comforts of home and I just love my pad. It’s best described as an eclectic professor meets hipster artist, I guess. Lots of rich colour, lots of bold accessories, walls and piles of books, but it all comes together for a casual pad that’s great to lounge in (with requisite beanbag chair, in cow pattern). My upcoming days and weeks will be spent turning a nice home back into a great home after months of neglect. I just need a splash of paint in the hall, and this… I need to figure out what the hell to do in my bedroom / writing office, which has been “near completion” for a couple years running. But, ah-ha, I have a notion. Ka-ching.

But when I begin cleaning and painting, I’ll tell you one thing, the topics on here are going to swing wildly in many directions, I bet. That’s when I start sifting through all my piles of papers I try to ignore for six months at a time, and in those piles, scraps of papers with notes of mine about oddities of all kinds. Like this:

“32 cm cock casts shadow across the room. All you see is shadow. Long, rigid, erect-cock-type shadows. Condoms creep out of the storm drain. They whimper and snigger and giggle, bouncing happily, until some sort of Gremlin-esque scenario (the smell of natural cock?) turns them into Killer Condoms, and they roar and flash their teeth, gnashing angrily at the erect member!”

Which would be notes about either two things, one, a conservative think-tank plan to cut down on promiscuity, or, as the case happens to be, two, this horrible German shocker-thriller movie in the ilk of the Killer Tomatoes and the Killer Bees, rather originally called “The Killer Condom,” which I bought six years ago for my buddy GayBoy. The slogan? “The rubber that rubs you out!” One night of drinking and debauchery and nothing to do but stargaze from his roof on an autumn night, we put the stupid disc in and watched it. I kept laughing so hard I’d occasionally spray beer. Oh, was it bad. (There’s a segment where a drag queen, for instance, lipsyncs “Killing Me Softly” in a sexy fuck-me-now kind of way, except for the fact that it’s the ugliest frickin’ DQ ever, with the syncing being more than one second off-time with the the actual lyrics. Yo, can we get a dubber in the house! This movie’s got worse sound-sync than the Asian martial arts movies of the 1970s, man.)

I took notes, thinking I’d write on it, and never, ever did. There’s hundreds of these notes scattered about. All this effort to think about writing and yet these convenient notions abound.

Anyhow. Just an update on the ongoing chaos that has been my life. February has been as tumultuous as it gets. Tomorrow, it all slows down. I toldja last month, I gotta get slow — fast. And now I am. I look forwards to the creativity it brings me, is what I’m saying. A fun ride, I should think. Come with.

8 thoughts on “A Note from the Management

  1. Southern

    Steff…well big changes in your life. Contgratulations on the decision to make the change and I wish you the best on the endeavor. Years ago I took a leave of absence from work and went back to school for a year. Luckily I had 1/2 pay for the year but I also had a family with three children and it was a risk. I look back on that time with good thoughts and remember the new things that came into my life that year. Sometimes breaking the mold opens up new avenues, people, experienced, places, you name it. For me, breaking the old of being at a job every morning and having the freedom to learn to use my time differently was such an enriching experience.

    I’ll be checking back to see how you’re doing.

  2. figleaf

    Good on ‘yer, Steff. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I know times are lean for you but…

    Well, here’s the thing. You won’t know till you find out. If you love it you may never look back. If you don’t you can find more work either at your old job or elsewhere.

    Either way it’s better than stewing in place wondering but not knowing.

    Good luck!

    If I ever make it to Vancouver can I come by and say a nice non-salacious howdy?

    Take care,

    figleaf

  3. Beth

    Woo hoo! Good for you, Steff! I’m very proud of you. It takes a lot of chutzpah and courage to leave the “safety” of a “real” job to pursue your art, but you have chutzpah by the bucketfuls, don’tcha?

    You’re a terrifically talented writer. Looking forward to reading about the journey …

  4. MrManicDepressive

    Good luck Steff! Might as well jump now. I did it when I was married with three kids and a mortgage. Not the smartest thing to do, but it all worked out in the end. Follow you heart and you’ll never go wrong! Good luck and many well wishes for success!

  5. scribe called steff

    southern — yep, it’s breaking the mold I’m after. i need to get through a hurdle or two with the gov’t, or else i’ll have to turtle and return to the work force. so, it’s not done and done yet, that’ll take another month. but if that works, then i have the foreseeable future to do my thing.

    figleaf — heh, yeah, lean’s all right though. it’s worth the chance, methinks, if only for just kinda recalibrating my life on my terms one more time.

    beth — i have large cupfuls of chutzpah. ๐Ÿ˜‰ i’m not so sure of buckets. heh.

    thanks for the compliment re: talent. i’m like a lapdog, i can never get enough!

    woo-hoo, indeed! ๐Ÿ™‚

  6. Mr.tits.Pervert

    STEFF!!!!!!!!!!

    Women’s hockey!

    Gold medal game!!!!!!

    this morning at 11:30am!!!!!!!

    You+I+Mcmuffins+dope!!!!!

    (poke poke)

    (giggle)

    call me, I’ll be taking a soak!

  7. scribe called steff

    You WHORE. Again with the debauchery! Damn you! Every time I think I’m on the ethical mend, around my bend you come.

    Ha.

    Yeah. Okay. Twist my rubber arms. Except the stupid McMuffins. Let us evolve: Actual eggs.

    Gasp. I know.

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