The Pelican Brief

You asked. I give:

Alright, so for those of you who watch Chuck (and if you don't, why not? It's a relatively harmless good time), you probably know about Captain Awesome.

Captain Awesome (seen to your left, my right) is the oft shirtless beefcake seen traipsing around the apartment of Chuck and his sister, Ellie (also pictured). Awesome (as he's often called by Chuck) is Ellie's doctor fiancé, and probably one of the nicest guys in the world. He is the perfect gentleman to Ellie, and a sweet "bro" to Chuck's nerdtastic antics and even to his friends. He's loving, caring, and ripped; he's like Edward, but without the sparkles and the blood sucking (and the creepy night-stalking). He's like the epitome of the perfect guy, a great foil for both of the Bartowski siblings who are full of insecurities.

So, how does this all relate to BYU? Well, within the walls of the world's largest (and driest) Bubble, you'll find a whole mess of Captain Awesomes. Yeah, sure, there's a good number of Chuck's, or even Morgan's (Chuck's hopeless best friend), but the vast majority seem to fall into the Awesome category...

Why? Well, if it's not apparent already to most people, BYU has a lot of pretty faces. A lot. Looks are very important to both guys and girls, and it shows. When the metrosexual movement threatened to destroy the very fabric of society, the homies at the BYU were all over it. Finally! They cried! They could dress fab-u-lous, and still get girls! There's a lot of superficiality involved in it, but this quest for sex appeal is so common there because, in the game of coupling, looks are paramount.

But, you ask, not everyone is as good looking as Captain Awesome... Yes, but you've seemed to have forgotten the other half of what makes Captain Awesome so awesome: his genteel nature. Now, you'd be hard-pressed to argue that BYU is not full of the nicest people on the planet... A few examples: If you're running into a building, 9 times out of 10, the door will be held open for you... If you lose something on campus, you'll probably get it back... If you slip on some ice, you'll probably get helped... They're just like that. The majority of the guys at the school served missions, faithfully giving up themselves for two years, and getting lost in the service of others, so that's certainly a factor. They've served in leadership positions, walked through scary neighborhoods, faced daily persecution, and they all (myself included) came out the other side, smiling, and grateful for those two years. So, in essence, the majority of the males at Brigham Young University are, in some respects, Captain Awesomes in their own right.

But, you ask again (what's with the buts? Are you never satisfied?), what does this all mean? Well, having come out of the BYU experience unmarried, single and yearning, I feel like I had to take stock and think "What did I do wrong?"*

This is when I began to realize that during my time there, I was in CONSTANT competition with the Captain Awesomes. I can't call myself awesome. I just can't. I know I'm not drop-dead handsome, and I'm okay with that. I know I don't dress fashionably, or wear polo shirts, and I'm definitely okay with that. I know my body is tubbier than it should be (not okay with that), but I'm willing to accept it for now. Yeah, I served a mission, and I learned a ton, but I still feel spiritually weak. I consider myself a nice guy, but I tend to become an intense misanthrope when placed in small spaces with big crowds, or at Smith's on a Monday or Saturday night. I feel flawed. And I project that. A lot. I'm aware of this.

So, here's my theory:

People like me will always be overlooked, because of the Awesomes of the world. And, in an environment like BYU, I didn't stand a chance, since the majority of the student population falls into the Awesome category in some respect, whereas I just don't have what it takes.

I know my theory is flawed (its a theory after all), and like all theorists, I must recognize these flaws. Here they are:

Most people feel like me. Most people feel inadequate, and no matter how strong spiritually, or attractive physically, most human beings feel flawed (as they should, or else we'd all be screwed). Also, me blaming my singles status on factors out of my control is lazy, and stupid. I'm well aware that I could have dated anyone that I wanted to, but the fact is, I didn't. I didn't date hardly at all. My own fault. And also, who am I to classify myself as throughly un-Awesome? I don't think I'm allowed to say this, but for all intents and purposes, I'm not awesome. Okay? So, just roll with it. If you disagree, then comment below. If you're also single, and ready to mingle, you know my number...

But, what I can say is that the problem with BYU for people with low self-image is that they will most certainly not feel welcome. Yeah, people will love them, and they'll make friends, but will they date? Will they get married? Possibly, but not certainly. Being surrounded by Awesomes all day long can really make a person nervous, thrusting their self-esteem even further down the toilet. It's never easy to feel bad about who you are, but when there's a constant reminder that you aren't what you want to be, or what others wish you to be, it's devastating. I don't think I ever felt this bad, but I came close, especially during the lonely times.

But, I think it's why I abhorred the dating scene in Provo, because I just felt like I would never get a shot. Why pick me, when you can have Pecsnabs Smith? Or Tim McGelhair? It's all a very vicious, unending cycle of self-loathing and misanthropic detest. It's pretty lame.

But, lest you believe I'm bitter, or upset or what have you, I'm not. I actually never saw myself as being married while in school. I just couldn't imagine it. Would I have done it, had the opportunity arisen? Of course. I'm no fool.

So, there you have it. My soul, on a platter of speculation and NBC television programs. Don't pity me, because I don't need it. What I need is a girl, and I'm pretty sure I don't want her pity.

Is that too much to ask!?!?!?

More Useful I'd Be...

I was reminded today how much I love all of these.

I especially recommend:

This one...*

And this one...*

And then the "sequel" of sorts to the last one...*

This one makes me cry...

This one makes me laugh...

This is the one that started it all...*

But, I'd recommend them all. I really would.

cheers!

*Big ups to my peeps:
Carrie "The Bear" Shakes It,
Hayley "Draw Me Wearing This" Smith,
and Ben "Jammin'" Ungz.
Carrie is the brainchild behind Primary South London, formerly known as Earl; Hayley gave us Karolee: A Saga in Two Parts; and Big Ungz gave us Leroy, as well as a few others... Mad props, y'all...*

**Oh, and let's not forget Dean "If Eric Idle and Gene Wilder Sired A Canadian Socialist With A Penchant For Brilliance" Duncan, because this is his (and Ben Unguren's) baby... Nice...**

Pair A Ducks...

Lost makes my head hurt. Here's why:

Wouldn't it be weird to come to the realization that your central purpose in life is not to make a better future, but to actually make for a better present... That's kind of profound, when you think about it.

Also, wouldn't it be weird if you came to the realization that your future self (which is actually your past self) will be greatly influenced by your present self?

And, wouldn't it be wacky if you realized that no matter what you chose, even if you knowingly and directly defied what you believed to be the proper outcome, that no matter how defiant you try to be against it, fate will ALWAYS make things happen as they should?

And finally, isn't it crazy that in this case (unlike other bits of pop lit), no prophesy or omens are needed to declare to these people that "You Have A Destiny" - Of course they do: because it's already happened (but has it? Not to them, of course, but to their forebearers... Wha!?)

Cycles, cycles, cycles, cycles.... This show is all about cycles. How interesting that one of the first image's of the show's Second Season was a Mama Cass Elliot record spinning (in a constant, predetermined cycle), and the opening strains of "Make Your Own Kind of Music", the ultimate song about defying preset norms (or destiny, if you will).... Take a look-see (by the way, for all non-Losties, this was one of the COOLEST reveals this show had done up till that point...)



Ah ha! Have Free Will and Destiny finally found each other? Is holy matrimony on its way? Have these two ideas existed in a false dichotomy all of these years, trying to make us believe that you can't have both? If last week's episode taught us anything, it's that we are free to choose, but that doesn't mean that'll change the outcome...

See why my head spins every single week? And see why I itch to talk to someone at length about this? It's fascinating, if not maddening, but doesn't that make for the best type of media?

Dharma Lady

Firstly, I need to apologize. My gut tells me nothing is wrong, but my heart feels the guilt of something, and in this instance (as with most instances), the heart wins. So, if I have in any way, shape, or form, offended you, hurt you, pissed you off, frustrated you, bitten you, or otherwise irritated you, I cannot help but feel deeply sorry. The inner workings of my brain dictate that I must feel extreme guilt and sadness over the awful things I say and do, and like what Tom Hanks so boldly declares in the classic tech-savvy "will they or won't they" thriller, You've Got Mail...

"I must warn you, that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it…remorse inevitably follows"

Truer words have probably been spoken, but in this particular context, Mr. "Just Call Me Joe" Hanks is the I Ching... So, with that in mind, I just want to say, "I hope you're not mad at me, because I'm not mad at you."

Secondly, I came to this realization as I tried for once to actually go to bed at a decent hour:

I sure have been half-assing it lately.

And by "it", I mean everything.

Why, might you ask? Well, I suppose it has a lot to do with my situation. I've resigned myself to experience mediocrity, as if this is to be the expected post-collegiate experience and all. I've almost convinced myself that I'm happy waking up at 9:30 every morning, wandering aimlessly around the house, maybe doing some mild exercise, having a shower, and then figuring out on a minute by minute basis what the crap I'm gonna try next. By the time I decide to do something productive, it's time to eat dinner. And that's it. From there on out, my day is done. Nothing of worth to show for it. Nothing. Yeah, I finished a spec script for 30 Rock, and I've managed to do tons of edits on my senior project, but really? 8 months after graduating, and all I have to show for it is a half-way decent spec script and a new version of a film that should have been done 8 months ago? I've tried to write, but writing without a purpose feels like a chore, and one that is rarely rewarding (Just to be clear, writing my 30 Rock spec was the most fun I've had writing in a long, long time). I kick myself every day at around 11:30 pm, where I realize I have nothing to show for the past 15 hours that I've been awake, so I panic, and I think "Well, what can I do now?" As the fatigue of a day's layabout sets in (pathetic, I know), I decide rather quickly that instead of writing, I'll catch up on Breaking Bad, or watch some dopey movie on Instant Watch, all things that I can (and do) do during the day...

And this half-assing thing extends beyond my secular pursuits. I feel spiritually less than I have been in a while, and it's eating me up. I won't go into this, as it's personal, but being home has made it surprisingly harder to be where I want to be spiritually. I've just been experiencing a lot of adult onset anxiety (or AOA). Chalk that one up to the number 8, and the fact that three people I came to know well growing up have all left their wives to seek selfish endeavors... So you can imagine I've struggled a bit.

So yeah, half-assed. That's exactly how I'd describe my days as of late.

And for those of you mildly put off by my word choice, then I applaud your concern, but, let's be honest, folks: as someone I may have offended once put it, "There's sometimes really no other way to say it " - I'm paraphrasing, of course, but you get the point.

I'm tired of living my weeks Wednesday to Wednesday (if I need to explain this, you don't come here often), because eventually, Wednesdays will be full of summer replacement programming, and So You Think You Can Dance results shows. Soon, what will I have that I can genuinely look forward to? I've grounded my reality in the experiencing of the unreal, and it's making my personal life a living hell. I don't sleep at night because I worry about everything I'm not doing, and how I need to start doing it. It's why I usually don't even try to sleep until I'm tired. It's why I wake up at 9:30.

I'm trying to remedy the writing issues with Script Frenzy, a "competition" of sorts where folks are challenged to complete a screenplay (or a comic book, or a TV spec pilot), of about 100 pages in 30 days (or the month of April). There's no prize, other than a finished script (which is actually a worthy reward). But, I'm on the fence as to what to write. I wrote about a page and half today of something, before giving up, and watching the Damages finale (sooooo good, by the way), so I'm thinking of trying something new. I want to be excited to write again, and I hope this can do it.

As for the other things, we'll see. I know what I need to do, but I just don't have the balls to do it. Well, that's not entirely true. I always feel like I have the best of intentions, just never the gall to follow through. I've never been good with goals, setting them or achieving them. I hate to be disappointed, so I try to avoid setting my sights too high... (and I'm going into filmmaking, why? *shrug*)

I dunno. All in all, this blog post reminds me of something I heard Meg Ryan once say:

"The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant so much more to me than so many somethings."

So, maybe it ain't all bad. Maybe doing nothing can actually prove to be something. Nora Ephron emphatically states in a revealing behind-the-scenes featurette that "Everything is copy", meaning that everything is a story; I just think I need to pull together everything good about my time here, and forget my failures. I have a lot to be grateful for, being home, and I suppose I need to hold on to those, and stop wishing things were perfect.

I think this sums it all up:

"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void...."

*le sigh*