Facebook is like a brother to me

Facebook, you're a funny thing.

And not in a funny, humorous, "Am I a clown, do I amuse you?" kind of way, but in a fickle friend, somebody-please-give-me-a-warning-if-you're-having-a-bad-day way.

Blogging and tweeting are similar, but not in as personal a way as Facebook is.

For example, a couple years ago I remember talking to my friend about how we love Taco Bell so much and how if we were a Taco Bell menu item we would be _________.

This spurred a Facebook status post asking "If you were a Taco Bell menu item, what would you be?"

I'd say in about two hours there were 50+ comments and at least 75 likes.

BUT

When I share something about Support the Arts, or pose a question of something, dare I say, serious or (for fear of sounding condescending or snooty) intellectual, I'll maybe get three likes and people rarely comment on it to share an opinion or have a conversation about it.

Occasionally, when I see someone else's status and it pertains to something I don't agree with, or would like to learn more about, or have some opinion on in any way, I tend to keep scrolling because who likes getting into actual conversations or (the horror!) an online argument.

I totally get that, by nature, most of us are non-confrontational, but does that mean we can't have conversations through our laptops and smart phones? I know that having a round table discussion about marriage equality, abortion, vaccines, immigration, politics, or whatever can be intense for many people because of volume, interruptions, eye contact, body temperature...whatever physiological reactions may occur, but online you're safe behind your computer wherever you're typing. No one can interrupt you, and you have as much time as you need to think things out, present them rationally, and breathe through whatever nervousness you have.

I guess what I really mean is...

Why have we drifted so far away from actually talking to each other? And why have Like buttons and Shares claimed plots in our land of communication skills?

And why has social media become such a factor in sharing feelings, asking questions, relationships, jobs, and essentially every aspect in life whether it's interpersonal, individual, happy or sad, joyous or sadness?

Why is it so simple for friends/followers to Like, Share, RT or double tap for like anything devoid of emotional response or critical thinking, but when there's an actual discussion that could be had where questions could be asked, viewpoints can be shared, and knowledge can be exchanged, we clear the road like a wild west duel at high noon?

Maybe this is more a question for Facebook programmers' algorithms for News Feed sharing. How do you decide what's important to share in my friends' feeds? Is anything relating to food, sports, or pop culture highlighted? Is it based on #NowTrending topics? Or is there a filter that actually hides posts with emotional/inquisitive words like "feel" or "help" or "why?"

Facebook, you're like a brother to me.

But in the way that I know "brother" as I was raised and not as I learned to use the word brother as in "my brothers were in my wedding party" or "I served aboard a submarine with my brothers".

You're like the older kid that lives in the house with me but doesn't really talk to me. You're that guy that is  used as a model for excellence for when I screw up, and as someone who takes credit for when I succeed. I share with you in hopes of conversation, but all you really want to know is what I had for lunch, how many games of Words With Friends I'm playing, and how many other social media apps you can follow me on.

You don't really care that I have a job, as long as you know I have one. Nor do you really care what's on my mind, how I'm feeling, what I'm watching, eating, reading, listening to, or what. You don't what to know why anything is going on, but more so just what.

Or maybe this is really about people I think I connect with on Facebook.

So I'm taking back control of my life online as I am taking back control of my life in the sunlight with my feet on the ground and the warmth on my face. I'm not worried about Likes or Shares or updating my information or if you care how many firsts, or places I've been, or relationship status, or hometown, whatever.

I'm calling the shots. I write my own chapters. I ask my own questions. But if you really care what Taco Bell item I am, then ask someone else. I'm a Sonic Chicago dog with cheese tots and a strawberry limeade. I'm a fresh funnel cake with powdered sugar on top--straight up classic no frills. I'm a chocolate Frosty with fries on a summer day while you sit on the curb with sweat dripping down your calf from the back of your knee.

And yeah, if you care, I love my job as a Service and Training Manager at Old Navy. My hometown is TBD because home is home wherever it is. But I was raised in Oakland and Antioch, California. I don't specify that as my singular hometown, though. The LBC is also my home. As is VB back east. And does it really matter if I select Separated, Single, or Divorced? Because anyone that really wants to know could probably have a better conversation with me than your drop down menu.

My life is my life and sometimes I'm more raw and open about it than some people are ready for.

But the cool thing about social media--whether it's a blog like this, or a tweet, or a Facebook status--is that it's like leaving a postcard on the floor of a club. Most people will probably step on it or over it, but every once in a while, something will catch someone's eye and they may read it.  Someone may even pick it up and share it with someone.

Whatever happens to it, I got it out in the open, and for me, that makes it more real. That puts my thoughts down "on paper," for public consumption, and I stand behind what I say. That's really me. And as much as I don't fulfill the stereotype for musical-loving theatre geek...

Take me or leave me.

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 11/28: Two.

Two. Not a difficult prompt since I live with my wife. But finding something I want to capture in a photo was a little more challenging. Two chairs. Two mini tables. Two bookshelves. Pairs of shoes. Two towels. And then I saw them. Our toothbrushes.

One blue. One pink. Objects so simple and relatively small, but powerful and indicative of what I wanted to say.

One blue. One pink. One for my wife. One for myself.

Of course there are plenty of things that are shared. Things that don't come in pairs.

One refrigerator. One stove. One water pitcher. One dishwasher. One washer. One dryer. One bathroom. One shower. One bedroom. One bed.

One husband. One wife.

And each of us have our own pairs.

Eyes. Ears. Cheeks. Nostrils. Arms. Hands. Legs. Feet.

Feet. Each of us have a pair of feet.

In one couple, there are two individuals.

For each individual, there are two feet.

So although we stand together, we do not always lean. We stand on our own. There are obviously times when I lean on her and she on me, but as long as one of us can stand strong on our own two feet, then we do not both fall. Although we are a unit together, we must not lose our identities and individuality. (Within the word "individuality" is "duality." Interesting.)

I can remember a time, a few times actually, in the Navy, high school, junior high, and even back to elementary school when either myself or someone I know would say that there's a hole in their heart or life and that they "need someone to complete them." Maybe you've thought it yourself, maybe not, but you've probably heard it somewhere. Perhaps in a movie where someone's crying in the rain saying that they can't think of life without the other. Or where someone returns from a self-inflicted absence saying they were not whole when they were away from the other.

I love love as much as the next open soul, but we need to cut that shit out.

Love yourself before you can love another. Learn to love openly before you love exclusively. Love without boundaries. Love your life that you make for yourself. Love yourself that you make for yourself.

Love yourself.

Because if you don't, love from another is almost a waste of time. Yours and theirs. Not saying they still won't, but you're simply cheating yourself of what the love really could be.

Love yourself.

Two is better than one, but to have two, you need two ones.

So become one before you can become one.

Be one in love with yourself before you can become one with someone else.

It's easy to feel appreciated by other people. It's easily recognizable when others praise you and compliment you. But how often do you do that with yourself? How often do you praise yourself? How often do you compliment yourself?

How often do you love yourself?

Don't confuse someone loving you with loving yourself. And it's horribly easy to mix up. When someone is giving you all their time, praising you, caring for you, honoring you, appreciating you, it's like you don't even have to do any work to feel good about yourself. But when it's gone. Or even when it disappears for a few minutes, you can feel it. And you become addicted because you've created a dependency for yourself. The need to feel loved by others.

Depending on who you are, feeling loved or appreciated by others can be easy to find. But the more you blind yourself with the "happiness" you think you're living in because of the compliments and free drinks and jewelry and shopping trips, the more it'll crush you when it isn't there.

Now take this out of love relationships context.

Friendships. Family relationships. Professional relationships. Any type of relationship where you interact with another person. It still applies.

Love yourself.

Loving yourself allows you to be a better friend. A better son or daughter. A better husband, wife, sister, brother, uncle, or aunt. A better leader. A better follower.

Love yourself and you release yourself of the addiction for validation, praise, and attention. Love yourself and you will see more clearly. The tasks at hand. The people around you. The things you really should be focusing on. Your safety. Your family. Your advancement.

Love yourself so there can be two.

Two ones in a pair.
Two feet on the ground.

Two sides of the brain and two hands to type collaborated to create the words that two eyes will read these words as one.

Two.

And by the way, the pink one is mine.

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge- Day 5/28: On My Nightstand

Today's challenge was much more specific in a way the previous four days have not been. It demanded a certain location. Only allowing myself enough time to spring out of bed, shower, pack my lunch while inhaling my breakfast, and throw on extra layers for some light snow duty before driving to work (at a leisurely--but safe--15 mph) I would have to wait until I got home from work to take the day's photo.

Once home I was faced with a creative challenge (after, of course, changing out of work clothes into sweats because that's just part of the routine when I get home...at least during the winter months). So reminding myself of the day's prompt, I got back into bed and took a photo of where a nightstand would typically live.

True story. That's the edge of the mattress at the bottom of the picture, and there's nothing but carpet, some wall, a door frame, and the lowest few inches of the bedroom door.

(Here is where Neo wakes up from a dream where he was at the Oracle's house, and he hears the child say to him, "There is no nightstand.")

Unhappy with the photo taken, I took a more functional approach. What serves as my nightstand?

Answer: The ground. And the multi-level shelf next to it that also serves as a dresser. Pictured is my alarm clock that I've had for several years, accompanied by my cell phone charger.

And this is where the spark for the blog was lit.

I've had this alarm clock for quite a few years (I'd say at least 5) and it's obviously came with me through several moves. Unless you have the short-term memory of a pretty blue tang named Dory, you'll remember I mentioned the alarm clock's neighbor (at least in the power outlet world) the phone charger. I actually use my phone for my alarm and haven't used the alarm on the clock radio for a while. But I still keep it. Plugged in. With the current time.

And I thought, why do I still have it? If I'm using my phone for my alarm, why not toss it?

Because it still works.

So why don't I use it?

Because I use my phone.

So toss it.

But it works.

So use it...

And that's why I keep bringing it with me.

But that's a lot like life. Knowledge, stories, and memories. Whether they're useful or not, you remember a lot of them. Sometimes it's easier to recall the ones that don't really mean anything, they're just...memorable.

But then other times, you just gotta move on and let go some of the stuff you don't use anymore. It doesn't mean it wasn't important, or didn't help you, or provided some guidance or a lesson for a period of time, it just means you've outgrown it's purpose.

And that's ok.

So I've got an alarm clock that works perfectly fine, and if anybody needs one--let me know and I'll send it to you free of charge.

I just don't need it anymore, and I won't miss it, so you can have it.

Not to say old friends or memories are alarm clocks, I'm much more emotionally attached to them, but it's something that has been on my mind for a while.

I've always loved my friends, but sometimes, or rather eventually, many of them/us drift apart for whatever reasons. Many of these times it isn't malicious or for any wrong doing of either party. It's just...life.

I've moved. They've moved. Relationships. Career paths. Social circles, The reasons are endless.

But that doesn't mean I still don't love you. And it definitely doesn't mean you weren't important to me. Correction, it definitely doesn't mean you AREN'T important to me. You are. You have been before, and I still care about you now. But for whatever the reason may be, we've continued on separate paths and well, maybe you and I can be alarm clocks for other people that need that nudge every day. We're still perfectly functional and wonderful as friends, but maybe someone else needs us.

And that's ok.

Just because I use my phone as an alarm clock doesn't mean I'll forget about all the good times I had with the clock radio (read: cursing it's blaring as I drag myself out of bed), I won't. Just like I will not/have not/cannot forget you.

We'll always have those times from rehearsals, adventures, trips to Denny's, breaks between matinees and evening shows, drunken karaoke (I guess that's redundant)...well, you get the picture.

But if we get the chance to pick back up where we left off, you know I'd give you a big hug and a high five and probably toss in a thatswhatshesaid or a fart joke a few minutes in.

Well done, nightstand prompt, you've been linked to a reminiscent post about good friends that I'll never forget.

Back to School!

So it’s Back to School season, and for the first time in [mumble, censor] years, I’m not getting ready for classes or working at a campus prepping for the onslaught of stampeding parents and new students.

I have been, however, shoulder deep in Back to School retail, and have been witnessing the masses purchase stacks upon stacks of…not books…but pants and polo shirts in navy blue, white, khaki, black, sky blue, and cardigans, and backpacks. (This almost turned into a post about wanting children, which would be fitting since this is the first time I’ve blogged since I’ve gotten married, ah thank you very much, but that wasn’t the goal. Another time.)

A few folks from the village are heading off to college, as is the younger brother of my best friend back in NorCal (high five, EJ!) and at a college send off party/fiesta, we went around the table and shared our bits of college advice. That really got me thinking about starting college, and being a couple years after the diploma (and still without the itch to start grad school), it felt a bit refreshing to think back on that first semester at community college and then at the transfer to The Beach (Go Beach!).

College is an interesting adventure—everyone’s experience is different, there are varying goals, definitions of success, and multiple ways to go about it. (How did this just become a post about losing your virginity? I’ll say it again…Another time. Maybe)

You probably already know to always wear sunscreen, so I’ll share some nuggets that I may have scribbled inside a locker, under the bleachers, or backstage behind the fly system ropes (high five for techies!)

1. Don’t register for a class before 10am.

2. If you need help learning about it or how to do it, there’s probably an office on campus that can help you with it. (Yes, even that.)

3. Skipping class gets easier each time you do it, so be careful.

4. Practice makes perfect (and yes, this applies to beer pong).

5. Your friends know you’re lying when you say, “I’m never doing THAT again.”

6. Sometimes you can buy books for cheaper from folks who took that class last semester.

7. You don’t need all your books on the first day.

8. Carry extra scantrons.

9. Study groups are awesome, but choose your study buddies wisely.

10. Take notes, if not to review later…to keep yourself active to stay awake.

11. Don’t be afraid to talk to your professors, they’re people too.

12. Take advantage of career centers/counselors, there’s nothing like finding out you’re short on credits when you think you’re walking with your friends next semester.

13. You define your goals.

14. Decide why you’re going to college: A—to get a degree that will leverage your job hunt. B—to follow an academic program in a discipline that you enjoy and find interesting. C—mommy and daddy said to. D—all of the above

15. People will judge your major. Whether you’re going into the arts, engineering, writing, or whatever. It’s your degree with your name on it, so follow a path you want to be on (see #14).

16. If there’s a pub on campus, don’t be afraid. It isn’t there to sidetrack your education, it’s there to hang out with (and meet) friends.

17. Do more than go to class and take tests.

18. Go to sporting events.

19. Join a club.

20. Be friends with your roommate(s).

21. Don’t move in with someone just because you’re friends. There’s a lot more to living together than you think (especially if you’re moving into a place for the first time).

22. Don’t be afraid to cry—it’s your body letting off some energy you don’t need to hold onto.

23. Hug at least five people every day.

24. Compliment people you don’t know when you’re walking by.

25. See a theatrical production on campus.

26. Smile—you’re taking advantage of an education that many dream of.

27. Don’t be afraid to make new friends.

28. Know that your circle of friends will change. It’s ok.

29. Take breaks.

30. Cramming isn’t for everyone.

31. Learn about your school and take some pride in it.

32. Don’t take everything as law, you may get tossed some false information from upperclassmen.

33. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.

34. Call home.

35. Visit your friends.

36. Don’t force yourself to come home if you don’t want to.

37. BUDGET.

38. Research scholarships

39. Find a get away spot on campus. A quiet corner, special bench, or long hallway, somewhere where you can be you for five minutes when it gets crazy.

40. Eat.

41. Drink water.

42. Get there early. Especially if you’re looking for parking.

43. Don’t feel bad about going to a community college first.

44. Be honest with yourself, if a class isn’t working out (for whatever reason: the teacher, the time slot, the material), don’t be afraid to drop it and find another course that fulfills the requirement (if available).

45. Be honest with yourself. (Yes, this deserves repeating, especially for just general understanding.)

46. Bring snacks.

47. One day (but hopefully more than once), you may find yourself on campus around sunrise or sunset before it’s riddled with people. It’ll be quiet, peaceful, and it’ll be one of the calmest moments you’ll have that semester. Stop where you are and take a breath. Remember this moment for later when it isn’t so calm.

48. Take pictures.

49. Make lists.

Are we there yet?

The best part of knowing people who have kids is that they’re usually willing to let you babysit and play with the kids while they go off and do something else for a little bit. They get some time away from the munchkins, I get to be a five year old and run around the grass for a little while. The best part of playing around with other peoples’ children is that you get to “give them back” when you’re done. All the fun stuff, none of the responsibility.

Don’t get me wrong, I wholly intend on being married with children—just not now. I guess the best part of playing with other peoples’ kids is that it really lets you know how you feel about kids. With cheese pizza on plastic plates being attacked by a three year old to my left and a five year old to my right, I look across the dining table at my girlfriend, smile, and say, “later,” and she laughs and agrees. (Oh, I forgot to mention the 5 month old in the swing.)

Lately, I’ve been noticing a lot of babies and marriages around me (fortunately, no babies getting married, that would be weird). Maybe that’s because I told myself I wouldn’t get married while I’m still in school, and I just graduated. Or perhaps it’s because I know a lot of people that are currently pregnant, just had a baby, or talk about it all the time. The marriage portion? Well, I’ve always wanted to get married, so of course it’s always on my mind. Maybe my turning 30 this year has a little to do with it. Maybe I just like asking questions.

Thinking back to my blog about control a few days ago, there are some things that can be prepared for and some that cannot. I can plan and save and wait for the right time to get married, have kids, go to grad school, whatever. I could always defer for better conditions, I could always look back to worse conditions. I know kids don’t come with instructions, and neither do marriages. There are hundreds of books out there: how-to manuals, surveys, questions, 29 different levels of compatibility, but I think the real things that keep the marriage together, the real meat and potatoes (or boca and tofurkey products) that keep families together, just have to be experienced. No books. No one else telling me how to do it. Just our family keeping ourselves together from the inside out.

Nothing like bringing up a bunch of questions before I go to bed. That’s nothing new in my world, though.

I’ve been thinking about making the switch to Wordpress. I may keep it here though and start a new one for WP. Something more focused, less journal-ish, something more streamlined on one topic. I don’t know. I’ll keep you…wait for it…posted.

Stanislavsky is like Pam for the soul

I don’t like getting stuck. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it usually isn’t for very long. Being stuck translates as getting lazy and losing perspective. Often times I look to better the situation, progress, and evolve. When I told my ex-fiancee that I was moving back to California, she said something to the effect of, “Go ahead, run like you always do. That’s why you can’t hold a committed relationship.”

That was the one thing that stuck with me (no pun intended).

I didn’t run, I moved on. I moved up and I moved forward. I got myself a few jobs, I started college, and I gave myself objectives. I encountered obstacles, I altered tactics, I achieved objectives. One step at a time, I make it from one scene to the next (yes, I’m referring to my life in acting terms…). Many actors, myself included, have said that living the life of a character in a play is simpler than real life because the play is scripted, the end is in sight, and you know the course of the story. One of the many challenges facing actors is embodying the character without telegraphing the end.

I can't remember where, but I heard somewhere (perhaps in the DVD commentary of the film Ray) that Jamie Foxx was able to spend some time with Ray Charles in his preparation to portray the musical legend. However, as amazing as it was basking in the genius of Ray Charles Robinson, he opted to cut his time short with his visits. His explanation was that he wouldn’t be portraying the 70-plus musician, and therefore did not want his performance to be overwhelmed with the last few months of Mr. Charles’ life; he only wanted to spend enough time with him to catch him in action, notice some nuances, and just watch him be.

Although I can’t speak for every actor, I know a few that proudly joined the ranks of “drama geeks” in high school because they enjoyed the escape from their miserable teenage lives to enjoy the fantastical wonderland of the scripted. As I mentioned earlier, one of the challenges of an actor is to not telegraph the end result. As much of a structure junkie as I am, I have realized one (of the I’m sure numerous) aspects where the uncertainty of real life is much easier than the scripted definite world of theatre: it’s impossible to telegraph the end result. Reason being—THE END OF YOUR PLAY ISN’T WRITTEN.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, naysayers can say that it isn’t impossible—committing suicide can easily be telegraphed beforehand. Ah, ah, ahh, any human that I know moves forward (or doesn’t) through choices. A choice to create a new life is equal to a choice to take a life, insofar as they are both choices. Where am I going with this? Any self-respecting human being who operates in the interest of self-preservation and progress moves forward by making their own choices. Bite-sized, manageable objectives are set, and whether they are achieved or altered, further objectives are set, obstacles are encountered, tactics are utilized, and life goes on. In day to day life we don’t have the option of telegraphing the end, so our up front objectives are faced more naturally and (dare I say) organically.

Compulsive over-analyzers like myself can find themselves second-guessing, backpedaling, and essentially undermining their own decisions if they don’t stand by their choice. It’s nearly impossible to make a choice without affecting anyone. Really. Human nature integrates this knowledge with our decision making more often than not. People choose to make choices everyday, accepting or declining offers, with varying degrees of acknowledging how far the ripples will go. Some people make more decisions based on how others are affected. Some make them based on how it affects them. Decisions are obviously a case-by-case basis, with some decision causing greater ripples than others. If you need an example, choosing which combo meal from Del Taco probably won’t ripple out as far as eloping with your cousin, but they are both decisions nonetheless.

If you’re stuck, you’ve reached a rest stop of laziness. If you think you’ve settled and hit a plateau, you have. I don’t plan on getting stuck or running, but I do intend to stay in a committed relationship (i.e., get married…duh). If I settle, that means I’ve given up. If I’m stuck, that means I’ve become too lazy to make things better. These two results are products of weak objectives, a lack of tactics, and obstacles that weren’t necessarily insurmountable, just big enough for me to stop reaching.

I like where I’m heading, and I love whom I’m heading there with. I’m far from stuck and nowhere near settling. My objectives are strong and my super objective (which, if you asked me what it is, I couldn’t tell you to save my life) is even better. The tactics I’ve accumulated over the years are fantastic, and the obstacles? Ha, I enjoy when people think they’re throwing me a wrench, when I’ve deflected torpedoes. Strap me to the back of a pace car and cut me loose when the green flag goes up, I’ll make it.

Note: although this self-empowering post may seem a bit random and obtuse, but a story I recollected earlier today sparked this feeling. I’ll have to share that story another time…let’s just say I’m in a much better place now, associated with a much nicer family. J

Don't suc. succeed

"What is success?" was a question that came up in my Theatre Today class last week. The same question was posed to me before I moved down here. A good friend suggested I find my own definition for it, and that's been rolling around in my head ever since. In class, the responses were very American, driven by consumerism: money, power, materialistic trophies and financial benchmarks. Meanwhile I'm sitting in my seat with my answer in my head, waiting, hoping that someone will be on the same wavelength and say that we should define "success" for ourselves. I felt that if I had offered my answer, I would want to continue the conversation in that direction, at which point we would be completely sidetracked; so for my own cowardly justification, I sat quietly and listened to my classmates' discussion contributions. 

I've heard many times that Theatre is a selfish industry, and that can be taken in many ways. It can be in the manner that you are "competing" against actors, designers, techs, and directors for the same position, and even though you're friends with them, you want that job and/or that paycheck as much as they do. In a more personal light, the theatre can steal your life away from your family, from your ability to even have a family, and even from your friends and social life in general. Those of us that are wholly dedicated are usually split in multiple directions: classes, rehearsals, multiple part-time jobs, relationships, children, the list goes on; but how selfish should you become to progress in the direction that you wish to? I've asked myself that question multiple times in the last few years, and my answer has developed in my work ethic-I belong in the theatre. There have been numerous relationships that have suffered because of my theatrical obligations, no, not obligations, determinations. "Obligations" sounds negative, and being in the theatre is far from negative, it's my choice, and I've been determined to move forward everyday. I digress. Relationships are sacrificed for my dedication to the theatre. If I try to put more time into the relationship, something else has to suffer…the non-theatre classes. Well, that wasn't a good idea either. Over the last couple years the relationships have fallen by the wayside and the Theatre has become my main squeeze. This has come to power through choices I have made, and I don't regret what I have done, nor have I ever, but I have learned from all of them. The more I have become involved in Theatre, the more I withdrew from my social life. There should be a balance, and I'm working at it every day. 

[my brain just stopped, and my thought train was AMTRAKed. if you were watching television you would currently be seeing static, perhaps a pixelated screen if you have a new plasmafantasticLCDmonitor, if you're used to regular tube TVs you would see the black strip across the bottom and the vertical color stripes across the screen.] 

I am not defining "success" as a destination, I am treating it as a journey. I have succeeded already, I am going to succeed in the future, and I am currently succeeding-right now, at this very moment. "Success" seems to be as complicated as love, and it also feels as if it has been as commercialized just that same. Lil' Kim had a song a few years ago entitled "Money, Power, Respect" and that, for some, is as good a definition of "success" as they need. According to <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/success> 

• Main Entry: suc·cess 
• Pronunciation: \sək-ˈses\ 
• Function: noun 
• Etymology: Latin successus, from succedere 
• Date: 1537 
1 obsolete : outcome, result 
2 a : degree or measure of succeeding b : favorable or desired outcome; also : the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence 
3 : one that succeeds 

and it seems that Merriam-Webster agrees with my idea of success as a journey at not a destination, as you'll notice that the first definition is obsolete, and the working definitions refer to the degree or "the attainment of" 

My definition of success has two parts, a concrete aspect that can be portrayed in examples and benchmarks, and an abstract side that will be just that, abstract and conceptual. Success has never been about money, having the newest gadgets, nicest car, or having a trophy wife. When I was 19 I transferred to the USS Hyman G Rickover, SSN-709 (Hoorah!) and, only two years in the Navy at that point, senior enlisted members were already plugging reenlistment packages and bonuses. My division chief, the late EMC(SS) Sean Bednarz had educated me on all the wonderful opportunities that would be available to me if I stayed in for "only" ten years-supervisory positions at power plants, paychecks upwards of $60,000 a year, moneymoneymoneymoneymoney. After he was done with his commercial I looked at him and told I'm rather make enough money to "just" get by and support my family teaching high school drama than to make an exorbitant amount in an industry that I have no desire to stay in for the rest of my life. Quality of life is more important to me than money. And he looked at me in amazement and after asking how old I was said, "kids like you don't talk like that anymore," and he's completely right. 

America is a consumer-driven populace, and there's no one party solely to blame, but younger people just become more focused on money as the years go by. Don't get me wrong, I like to have money available as much as the next person does, but, as I've stated in earlier FB Notes, being here in Long Beach with very little money (for now) has helped me recalibrate myself in many ways. There are too many luxuries that I took for granted, and living here has shown me that I don't need them. They're still nice every once in a while, but there really is no need to eat out for every meal, go to a bar every night, and aimlessly drive around when I can eat at home, not drink all the time, and take the bus or even walk somewhere. Just like I told my Chief, if I can provide for my family, or depending on how our family situation is coordinated with working parent or parents, I simply want my family to be provided for. I don't want to scrape by, and I don't really need six cars and a house in every state (although a private jet would be welcomed). If we're healthy, with food on the table, clothes on our backs, and comfortable living conditions, things are good. 

On the abstract side of success, if I can do what I love, and I mean truly enjoy what I'm doing for a living, then I am a success. Whether I'm teaching, working on Broadway, London, Oslo, or Kansas City, if I can head to work in the morning and know I'm going to enjoy what I'm doing, I'll call myself a success. This is where the selfishness comes in. I dedicate myself to the theatre, my passion, my craft, my art, and I need to achieve a balance with my family. That second part is what's been eluding me. This past week marked what would have been the fourth anniversary of matrimony had we stayed together. Stay with me, I'm not getting emo and regretting my "practice engagement." So, obviously I'm not married, and do not live in Virginia, and because of this separation and move back to California, I was able to get back into theatre, train at DVC, work with Shotgun and DTC (then DLOC) and arrive where I am now, CSULB, getting ready to start the third week of my junior year on track to achieve a major milestone with a BA in Theatre Arts. So yes, everything happens for a reason, I get it, and those reasons weren't apparent to me four years ago when I was leaving Virginia Beach, but they are now, and I can definitely say I've succeeded since then. 

I don't know what the future will bring, and I'm not going to plan too far out. There are things I want to do, but I know life happens, and sometimes it doesn't go the way you planned. As long as keep doing what I love, and am making progress towards what I want, I'm succeeding. It's not about the money, the fame, or the prestige. It's about doing what I want and enjoying every bit of it. A college dropout who went back to school later in life said that if he ever hears you say you're bored, he'll crush you (it may have been "pummel," but I'm not sure, that's why I paraphrased, but there will be life threatening danger). He's absolutely right, there's too much cool stuff to be bored, learn something, look back, reflect, regroup, create and recreate. There are plenty of ways to succeed at something, and if you don't, or say you can't, you just "suc."