Time for the next installment of this 30 day (but not in a row) challenge. Click the “Deep30” tag at the bottom if you care to catch up on the older ones.
Despite my efforts, I can’t seem to forgive my dad. He hasn’t been a major part of my life since I was in 6th grade and even then we weren’t exactly buddy-buddy. Late last year he came to visit after he found out that he had cancer. I wanted to make it right, even if only for him since I’ve gotten so used to holding this grudge.
Then he left again, and I don’t hear from him. We spoke once or twice on the phone in the week afterwards, then nothing. My mom gave me a message one day that he had called her phone and wanted me to call. I did, and got his voice mail. I left one. The next day, I left another. A couple days later, another. Well it’s been six months now, and nothing.
My older sister is friends with him on Facebook, and he’s still alive and talking to other people, including the foster kids that he cared for when I was just an afterthought. He talks at length about the time he spends with his foster son, about conversations with his foster daughters as well as my actual sister. But me? I’m not good enough apparently.
I was the only kid at little league without a dad in the crowd (or a mom, for that matter…she was off fucking Evil Stepdad #1 during my games, but that’s another story). I never had “the talk” about girls until, when I was 20, Stepdad #2 (mom’s 4th marriage…she married the evil dude twice) gave me his version which I will now quote in full: “Keep it in your pants.”
There’s so much I feel like I missed out on. And I will never have that back. My mom tells me that I have to forgive him, but I don’t know if I can.
“Fuck them is what I say. I hate those eBooks. They cannot be the future. They may well be. I will be dead. I won’t give a shit.”—Maurice Sendak, author of Where the Wild Things Are (via The Colbert Report)
I feel like it would really be a shame if you didn't do everything you can to get hired at Disneyland. Even if you started from the bottom, with your abilities and experience, you could probably move up really quickly and have a great career at the parks. Even if it's not great for the first few months, it's got to be better than sitting at home wishing your life were different. It just seems like that's the only way you'll be happy, and even if it's really difficult, you have to make it happen!
You’re right, I think it may be the only way for me to be happy. The trouble is, it’s not just difficult…it’s not realistic right now.
I don’t have a problem with starting from the bottom. The trouble is that their first summer, newbies are lucky to get a single 4-hour shift each week (even on the Disney Careers website, the description usually includes the phrase “Please note that the principles of seniority are used to schedule all roles”).
Southern California is an expensive place to live…Orange County particularly. Earning about $30 a week after taxes isn’t going to cut it, and in this economy (not to mention me striking out for the past year and a half), I can’t assume that I’d be able to find a second job to supplement that income.
If I had family in the area, I could try to call in a favor until I had the seniority and/or promotions to support myself, but at this point it’s just not realistic. As much as I want to follow the dream and take the leap of faith, crashing and burning would be fatal.
My only hope is to keep applying when management positions come up, because if I can start with a full time schedule there’s a chance. The trouble is that you can only apply once every six months, and I’m still in that window.
Most things on the Disney Careers site are part time or seasonal internships. The full time jobs listed are things that I’m not qualified for (ie Labor Relations or Electrician, which are open full-time but require ten years of experience in the field).
I really appreciate your input, and in principle you are right. I just wish it were as simple as deciding to make it happen.
I still haven’t forgiven myself for losing my job at Disneyland back in 2004. Sure, it was for a good cause…I got fired for missing too much work taking care of my grandma, who was in her 90s and had congestive heart failure. At the same time, and maybe this is selfish of me to say, I lost the job of my dreams to do it.
Sometimes I look at how my grandma felt and acted in the last few years of her life and wonder if I did too much. Were we being more selfish by keeping her around? Every day from 2002 until she passed in 2010 she had pain. Every day she woke up and commented on how she was surprised that she wasn’t dead. Every time she said goodbye after a visit, she said it like she thought it would be the last.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that morally I did the right thing. I’m glad that she made it to 97 years old (she died a week after her birthday).
And yet missing all the work it took to keep her going cost me my life’s dream of working at Disneyland. I hate that since then, I haven’t had a job as fun, challenging, and rewarding. I’ve had bits of all three at different times at different places, but it really was a magical mixture there.
I was liked, I was respected, I even had a small fan club (one guest told me I was the next Maynard, which means nothing to most of you but to those who know of Maynard, they know how huge that is).
It was the job I had wanted ever since I was a little kid (not necessarily outdoor vending, but I wanted to work in the park). I was often referred to (and referred to myself) as a “lifer.” Instead of working there through college before moving on, it was accepted that this was what I was born to do, and I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.
And then life threw me a curveball that I couldn’t handle. My parents (well my mom, who was this particular grandmother’s daughter and current stepdad) were living in Washington, so grandma’s care fell on me. And I didn’t want her to die on my watch. So I took days off when I probably didn’t need to, because I wanted to be sure. She would sometimes ignore doctors’ orders regarding diet, not exerting herself (like doing her own laundry or bathing without help or spending too much time on her feet doing the housework that she insisted she wanted to do), so I would stay sometimes to police her and keep her healthy.
I really don’t know what I need to forgive myself for more: letting myself lose my job to take care of her, or the fact that it bothers me that I did.
Kim Schmitz (now known as Kim Dotcom), referenced in my last reblog, has NOT been sentenced to 50 years. He hasn’t even had a trial yet. He does, however, face up to 55 years in prison if extradited and convicted.
Into the Deep Day 2: Something you love about yourself.
I love that, even with everything I’ve been through, I have ended up being a pretty groovy person overall. I have my flaws, and sometimes I dwell on them too much; but if I wasn’t me, I bet I’d want to be friends with me.
All the pain, the emotional distress, the failures, and even the great times have made me someone who is understanding of almost everyone. Even if I disagree with you, I can usually understand how you came to feel the way you do. I’m very empathetic. I’m not always the best at giving advice, because I’m afraid to screw things up for you more than they are, but I will always be an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on if you need it.
Of course, even I have my limits. I really can’t stand when people hate a person or a group without a logical reason. Sure, I have hate for a few people, but they earned it. I’m sure most of you have people you hate, and that’s OK.
But hating someone based on the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, their religious beliefs, status as a “ginger,” them being successful (aka Justin Bieber or Lady Gaga)…well, it just really doesn’t make any sense to me.
Some people like Twilight. Get over it. I’m a Disney nerd. To some, that’s cause for ridicule. But you know what? I just realize that it’s my obsession that others may look down on. It bothers me if people judge me on that, but I’m not going to let it change who I am. I’m also not going to look down on YOU for liking Six Flags better.
For the record, I’m not a fan of Bieber or Gaga. I saw the first Twilight and even though I wanted to hate it, it wasn’t that bad. But even if I’m not a fan, that doesn’t mean I have to hate them or the people that like them.
And I should say that, even though I can be extra naive when it comes to other peoples’ faults, I am not ignorant to the fact that some people deserve to be looked down on. Fred Phelps? Fuck him. Harold Camping? I’m totally fine with the fact that he just had a stroke. Being the Disney nerd that I am, Michael Eisner gets the middle finger from me.
And that’s just a partial list. There’s Evil Stepdad #1, the gangbanger asshole who pulled a gun on me and stole my rent money, the roommate that threw me out and sold all my stuff in an argument over $20. There is hatred in me, I won’t deny it. But it’s reserved for those who have worked hard to earn it.
That’s one thing I am really proud of. I tend to not make snap judgements about people. I tend to give the benefit of the doubt. As much as I’ve laid out here about myself, my insecurities, my mistakes, my fears, I would be quite the hypocrite to look down on anyone else.
“I ordered some video-editing software from Hitfilm in the UK which also comes with some instructional videos. So a few days later I get a call from FedEx saying that the DVDs were being held at U.S. Customs until I filled out a Video Declaration Form, which she said was now standard practice. Now, I’d never heard of this before, so I called back to ensure that this was indeed FedEx and not someone phishing for information. Had them email me the form.
This is what the form said: “I/we declare the the films/videos contain no obscene or immoral matter, nor any matter advocating or urging treason or insurrection against the United States, nor any threat to take the life of or inflict bodily harm upon any person in the United States.”
Now, the first clause I can kinda see, though “immoral” is weird and there’s no standard definition of obscenity in the US, but let that go…what made my eyebrows go up my forehead and down the other side was clause two. So I called back the nice lady at FedEx — who was only following instructions given to her by Customs — and asked what this was all about.
Apparently — and this is only her understanding of the situation — this is a new thing being done by Customs and Homeland Security with FedEx, UPS, and other carriers to make sure that films and videos with ideas or stories that were at odds with the United States Government didn’t get into the country, as it was a form of terrorism (as further elaborated upon in the third and final clause.) She added that some DVDs showing Occupy events in London and elsewhere had gotten bounced because of the concern that these were being used to coordinate activities here (as if with the internet people actually need physical DVDs for that sort of thing but that’s neither here nor there).
Under this new stipulation, if V for Vendetta had, for instance, been produced in the UK (instead of just filmed there), importing it into the US would be considered subject matter “advocating or urging treason or insurrection.” And if you lied about it on the form, you could be held liable for this.
So there are now very literally guardians at the gate ensuring that the wrong sorts of ideas, movies or DVDs are not allowed into the country without investigation and/or prosecution. And most pernicious of all, they don’t actually define what they mean by advocating treason or insurrection, any more than they define what “immoral” means, it’s whatever they decide it means, so you could be breaking the law without knowing you’re doing it, until they decide you’re doing it.
Thoughts: this country’s laws and things the government stands for gets more disgusting every day. Those are my thoughts.
Also, this only has a few notes and it’s someone’s personal story, so, probably good to signal boost it because it won’t be going around everywhere…
Oh wow. This goes against everything I was taught what “American values” were.
Oh wow, so America’s basically becoming North Korea. Next thing you know they’ll be assigning tour guides/guards to make sure people coming in don’t see anything they’re not supposed to.
Stop faux-raging and go fix your shit. If you cannot or will not confront your RL tormentors, bitching about it online will not do any good.
Maybe I’m missing the point, but what I see you saying is:
"Go through shit alone, and don’t bother us with it. Don’t let other people who may have some of the same issues see that they aren’t alone…make them suffer just like you do. Nothing is too big to beat, because I don’t currently have any problems in my own life that are too big to beat, which makes it true for everyone else in all situations, and you’re a wimp for complaining that you can’t beat it. In fact, fuck you for not using tumblr the exact same way that I do. Now go reblog a picture of a cat or something."
Signed, my insomniac, depressed, unemployed self who can’t seem to fix any of those things, who talks about it online and sees it do a lot of good, actually, when other people can relate, and I then realize that I’m not alone.
I hate my lack of confidence. People tell me how smart I am, how good at things I am, how great of a guy I am, and I can’t bring myself to believe it.
I do to an extent. I mean, I feel smart, I know I’m good at many things that I do, and I try hard to be a good person, but I never feel like it’s enough. I can’t help but think of the other people who are way better than me at everything, and know that I can’t live up to my own expectations.
I’m the guy who has turned down a promotion thinking I hadn’t learned quite enough yet, only to then have a boss who has no clue what he is doing at all. I’m the one who can’t bring myself to ask a woman out, because she’s just going to say no anyway. I’m the one who judges himself so harshly that I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for myself, even if I’m good enough for the outside world.
But what can I do? I keep plugging along the best I can, because it’s either that or admit that I’m right. And in this case, I really fucking hope I’m wrong. Because if I’m right, I’m just wasting everybody’s time.
I started this challenge in the middle of last year, and made it to day 5. I ran across it when I was adding a “Kenny" tag to posts about who I am, in case anyone wants to read stuff by me without wading through all the reblogs and pictures.
It’s time to resurrect this challenge. I’ll reblog the first 5 that I wrote for the first five days, then I’ll pick up where I left off.
I’m not going to commit to one per day…I may skip a day here and there. Sometimes the writing motivation just isn’t there. But I want to get back to writing more than I have been lately.
Other than reblogging random funnies and things, this is my place to open up. And without some guidance I can kind of ramble a bit. So here is the other “30 day” challenge I will be doing starting very soon.
Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Something you never get compliments on.
Write a letter to a band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days.
Write a letter to a hero that has let you down.
Something or someone you couldn’t live without because you’ve tried living without it.
Someone or something you definitely could live without.
A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Your views on gay marriage.
What do you think of religion? What do you think of politics?
Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Something you wish you had done in your life.
Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs.
The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
What’s the best thing going for you right now?
What if you were pregnant, or got someone pregnant? What would you do?
Something you hope to change about yourself and why.
Write a letter to yourself, stating everything you love about yourself.
I’ll be honest, there are a few of these that I’m not looking forward to, mostly because I’m going to have to look at areas of my memory and myself that I generally try to avoid. But fuck it, maybe it will help.
So I walked a few blocks to a friend’s house to see what he was up to. We’d usually play tag or hit-and-seek or play with toys in his back yard. I was probably 10 or 11 years old (it’s amazing how I remember events from my youth so clearly, but if you ask me when it happened, the best I can do is to narrow it down to where I lived at the time…I can’t always remember a year, or even what grade I was in).
A couple of the other neighborhood kids were there, and we all decided to play baseball. So I went back home to grab my mitt from my room.
I walked in, and the house was quiet. Odd, since my stepdad’s van (the one that was in the movie WarGames) was there, as was my mom’s Ford Taurus that she once tried to run over Evil Stepdad #1 with when he laid behind it to stop us from leaving one day. But that’s another story. I walked down the hall towards my room, and heard a squeaking sound, like someone was jumping on a bed.
The hall had four doors. The first door on the right was the bathroom, then my sister’s room was next to that. At the end of the hall on the left was my mom’s room (I never referred to the fact that he slept there as well), and straight ahead at the end was my room. A couple steps down the hall, I heard a squeak, like someone had jumped on a bed. Then another, and another.
As I got to my room, the door to my mom’s room was open. It looked like Evil Stepdad #1 was passed out drunk on the bed (a state he was often in). Except maybe not, in retrospect…maybe his eyes were just closed. My mom was on top of him, bouncing up and down. They were both naked. Even with my stupidity when it came to sex (I didn’t even really know what it entailed until much later), I knew I wasn’t supposed to be seeing what I was seeing.
I went into my room and got my mitt, and then ran past their door on my way out, being sure not to look in.
It was the first time I saw my mom as a willing participant with him. It had been so much easier to believe that he was manipulating her, that she was only with him because she was scared of what would happen if she broke up with him (he did indeed have violent tendencies, especially towards her). It broke my heart that she chose to do that.
Later in life, when both she and my real dad told me (at separate times) that the reason they divorced was that dad wouldn’t put out (her version: “I had needs” - his version: “I don’t blame her, it was my fault; I couldn’t give her what she wanted”), it made a little more sense. My mom’s a horndog. She cheated during each of her first three marriages. I’m not aware of her doing it during her current marriage…but sometimes I wonder. I just keep my mouth shut about it, unless I’m telling the whole internet about it like now.
Sometimes I’m glad I’m single. I don’t have to worry that I’ll never be good enough to keep a significant other from losing interest and leaving.