Of the Day I Meet Jimmy Fallon

Jimmy Fallon

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Me

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Someday I will meet Jimmy Fallon.

I must, for he is on my favorite people list.  That list is not easy to get onto, it rarely includes more than five people at a time and consists of my best buddies (you know who you are) and Jimmy Fallon. He’s married, I’m not going to try to date the guy – he clearly loves his wife, Nancy. Though, I will admit I have had a crush on him since he was on SNL and have watched 80% of Late Night With Jimmy Fallon.

On the day when I meet Jimmy Fallon I will not give away how star struck I am. In fact, I will appear calm and causal; but funny and witty as hell. I cannot express how witty I will be. I’ll be so damn witty that he’ll think, this girl should work for me. Of course, he won’t mention the employment right off the bat, but after a while, perhaps while bonding over a cup of coffee, he’ll say, “You know, I think you’d be a great addition to the writers of Late Night.” An offer I will happily and humbly accept.

But before that cup of coffee I’ll be walking along the streets of New York City. Looking for a nice bar to go to for drinks after my shitty minimum wage movie theater shift that I worked after my entry-level publishing position. I’ll order an overpriced lemon drop martini and take a seat at the bar. Sure enough, Jimmy Fallon and some buddies will come walking through the door.

Considering that I’m not a very observant person, at first I won’t notice. Suddenly, Jimmy Fallon will be standing next to me at the bar, waiting to order a beer. Being that he’s the nicest guy in Hollywood (so says Jane Lynch and whole slew of other people), he’ll introduce himself. Since I’m not a creeper and I’m super awesome from the moment I say hello, he’ll invite me to have drinks with his buddies. Apparently one is single and I caught their eye.

We will laugh, drink, exchange phone numbers, and become best buddies. His wife will like me too and we’ll go on shopping dates together. And through him I’ll meet The Roots, after one of their shows, and we will quickly become party buddies.

Someday, I will meet Jimmy Fallon.

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Of Writing Failure

Success and Failure Sign

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Recently I wrote about being a lazy writer, an epidemic that all procrastinating artists can surely relate to.

The thing is laziness is a state of being. A state which can be easily overcome if one truly wants to.

Lately I’ve been suffering from a different writer problem. Quite simply – writing failure.

I have not liked what I’ve been writing. Private or academic. I’m not even satisfied with this blog post. And when what I’ve put to paper is rushed for a class, I find that especially frustrating.

I’ll be honest. I’m a better writer than most. Fiction and Non-fiction. I’m not the best, but I’m better than most, and I think that if I was pushed (by either myself or someone else) I could be fantastic.

Last night I was trying to write an eight page short fiction for my morning class. I spent hours trying to write something that wasn’t cliché and generic with no luck. I had words on a page. But they were just that: words. There wasn’t anything of substance behind them. The character’s were dull, the plot was non-existent, and I had no ideas on how I could progress the characters or what could happen around them. It was lame. UBER lame. I was frustrated.

It was a failure moment.

Non-writer’s struggle to relate to this. They hear: yes the paper is good enough and guaranteed at least a B with little to no effort. They wonder why I don’t just turn it in.

It’s simple. My own personal standards. And those are way more influential on what and how I write than a teacher or a peer. If I don’t think it’s as good as my other writing. Or if it isn’t coming out on paper as I imagined it in my head. It’s not good enough. So I sit there, stressing out because I know I’m better than that. I know that there’s more here that I’m not seeing. I want to write my Les Misérable. Sadly my creativity is failing me, and I’m writing a stupid Twilight instead.

Isn’t that the deal though writer’s? And I’m sure this goes for other art forms as well. Most of what I create isn’t the bestest-thing-ever. Most of it is painstaking work that doesn’t turn out the way I hoped. But when it does, that’s mighty exciting, and that makes all those practice drafts where I learned what works and what doesn’t, where I tried a variety of styles worth it.

Ultimately all the failures (hopefully) are leading towards a success.

Here’s my failure time line of yesterday:

  • I had about five pages done but I hated ALL of it.
  • Around 11pm I started a whole new thing.
  • I wrote until 2am
  • Went to sleep and woke up at 6am
  • Got ready for the day
  • Got to campus at 7am
  • Wrote like a mad women (didn’t have time to revise, was almost long enough, thank God it’s a rough draft)
  • Turned in my assignment online at 8:29am (class started at 8:30am)
  • I was late to class

Of Tardiness

Pocketwatch

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I never learned how to be on time. On average I’m twenty minutes late everywhere I go. However for work and school I’m better, only around five minutes late. For this I blame my upbringing. Of course my mom will deny that it’s my upbringings fault until she either dies or Jesus comes back and beams her up to heaven. But considering the amount of time I waited to be picked up from school or a friends house in my life – yeah, it’s my upbringings fault, at least partially. For instance she was always late picking me and my brothers up from Elementary school. Once long ago on a Wednesday, when (I’m guessing) I was in  third grade I was forgotten at the school after play rehearsal until dark. I remember trying to dial what I thought was the churches number in the principles office completely freaked out. I was dialing 9899 instead of 8988. I’m told that my dad was leading children in Sunday School songs when he abruptly stopped, ran away, and came to get me. But you see? Totally partially upbringings fault.

I believe that tardiness is more than a choice, or something learned, it’s inherited. To quote a cliché like mother like daughter. Once embedded into you it takes sincere focus to try to learn to be on time. If you can.

The lack of punctuality is in fact a disadvantage – but not for the reasons I assume most people think. Those reasons being: missed part of lecture/meeting/sermon, appearing uninterested/unprepared, lack of respect. Rather, when a person is late they are not enjoying it or using their tardiness as part of a wordless statement. That person was RUSHING to get to there. Their heart racing, hands grip the wheel (or whatever they’re holding), moving as fast has humanly possible, and watching their clock/watch/phone as the numbers inched dangerously close to the agreed upon time. For those who are chronically late have, what I refer to as, time dyslexia. They perceive time differently than others. Their brain understands that they have 5 minutes. Their body doesn’t understand what 5 minutes feels like. Those damn limbs think that 5 means 10, 10 means 20, and 20 means 35. And because they’re late, that rare day when they show up on time the event will drag on what feels like forever.

I find it peculiar that punctuality is not contagious (not in my experience), however chronic tardiness is contagious. I have had many friends blame me for their switch from on time to late. And once they start being late, they get worse, or consistent, just like me. Sorry buddies!