Saturday, April 24, 2004
The Object of My Envy
Jealousy is the worst emotion.
Somewhat to my surprise, I've met two people I like as friends in the past month: Dr. Freud and 911 Boy. Last night, the three of us went to an AIDS benefit at a local college.
It was sponsored by the student gay and lesbian group and without question, the three of us were the oldest ones there by a generation: Picture children excitedly running around a few adults at a birthday party. But as the lights dimmed, I saw him.
He is an attractive 30ish, slim and trendily dressed -- a shirt tucked loosely in front. He introduced the purpose for the event -- a showing of a Documentary about a group of friends who perform in drag for the last 15 years to raise money for charities. I'd heard of, but never seen, the group. Prior to the Documentary, their shows had a loyal local following already. Now with the film hitting the festival circuit, the group is starting to perform around the country. The film itself is beginning to pick up awards. Not only is He a member of the troup, but he produced and directed the film. And, when not performing or filming, he manages the local art movie house.
He has the life I wish I did.
That's not the worst of it. Without knowing the above, I'd previously spotted him in the chats and, on the basis of similar alternative film interests, tried to strike up a conversation. I've tried twice, and... "Yup." "Cool." "Indeed." I'll slink back under the bridge, now...
The movie was funny; heartwarming. I tried to find something to criticize. Afterwards there was a drag show. While I'm not 'into' drag, two of this group performed and were hilariously clever.
I am seething with jealousy.
So I will comfort myself by writing about the poor substitute that is my life.
Thanks to a friend who "mentioned my name," I have been assigned my first BIPC project as Project Manager. Not only did the request come out of the blue, it's associated with no one I know or any technical programs I have previously used. The project pulls in representatives from across locations and departments at BIPC.
Within an hour of my managers' approval, a meeting notice blipped up for the project "kick-off". In a windowless room, I sat at a conference table surrounded by strangers and on-line remotely via speakerphone waiting to introduce myself. What would I say if asked for my experience?
It never came up. Something kicked and I was "on." I don't know how this happens, but when it does I can feel my head shift. Whatever I say strikes a chord and people start laughing. When I worked the Movie Theater, it was a regular variety hour. Afterwards, I'm usually tired out.
Walking through the mirrored corporate lobby after the meeting, one of the folks caught up to me and asked then the dreaded question about my experience.
So there, Mr. Film Producer Cutie Pants Art Movie House Manager Entertainer!
Somewhat to my surprise, I've met two people I like as friends in the past month: Dr. Freud and 911 Boy. Last night, the three of us went to an AIDS benefit at a local college.
It was sponsored by the student gay and lesbian group and without question, the three of us were the oldest ones there by a generation: Picture children excitedly running around a few adults at a birthday party. But as the lights dimmed, I saw him.
He is an attractive 30ish, slim and trendily dressed -- a shirt tucked loosely in front. He introduced the purpose for the event -- a showing of a Documentary about a group of friends who perform in drag for the last 15 years to raise money for charities. I'd heard of, but never seen, the group. Prior to the Documentary, their shows had a loyal local following already. Now with the film hitting the festival circuit, the group is starting to perform around the country. The film itself is beginning to pick up awards. Not only is He a member of the troup, but he produced and directed the film. And, when not performing or filming, he manages the local art movie house.
He has the life I wish I did.
That's not the worst of it. Without knowing the above, I'd previously spotted him in the chats and, on the basis of similar alternative film interests, tried to strike up a conversation. I've tried twice, and... "Yup." "Cool." "Indeed." I'll slink back under the bridge, now...
The movie was funny; heartwarming. I tried to find something to criticize. Afterwards there was a drag show. While I'm not 'into' drag, two of this group performed and were hilariously clever.
I am seething with jealousy.
So I will comfort myself by writing about the poor substitute that is my life.
Thanks to a friend who "mentioned my name," I have been assigned my first BIPC project as Project Manager. Not only did the request come out of the blue, it's associated with no one I know or any technical programs I have previously used. The project pulls in representatives from across locations and departments at BIPC.
Within an hour of my managers' approval, a meeting notice blipped up for the project "kick-off". In a windowless room, I sat at a conference table surrounded by strangers and on-line remotely via speakerphone waiting to introduce myself. What would I say if asked for my experience?
It never came up. Something kicked and I was "on." I don't know how this happens, but when it does I can feel my head shift. Whatever I say strikes a chord and people start laughing. When I worked the Movie Theater, it was a regular variety hour. Afterwards, I'm usually tired out.
Walking through the mirrored corporate lobby after the meeting, one of the folks caught up to me and asked then the dreaded question about my experience.
- This is my first project officially as Project Manager. I responded, straight into her face.
I can see why they chose you, She said. You'll make an excellent Project Manager.
So there, Mr. Film Producer Cutie Pants Art Movie House Manager Entertainer!