When the countdown reached zero, a cacophony of joyous screams and plastic horns welcomed 2010. The sky was instantly ablaze with fireworks. Greens and reds and purples and yellows streaked across the velvet sky leaving faint starburst imprints of smoke. The faint smell of gunpowder crept through the air. That’s one great way to start off the year: at the Happiest Place on Earth. Well, technically a couple of yards outside of it. Disneyland sold out much earlier than I thought it would so the family and I got into California Adventure, but on the upside got free day passes to Disneyland valid at anytime in 2010 (which we would later use to spend my Dad’s birthday). I’ll be honest; I had low expectations spending the New Year with family, but ended up having a blast. The booze and smoked turkey legs helped a tad.
When Jaaaaaaa met L. A.
I remember a few years ago, I felt down for no particular reason. It was just one of those bad days where I was tired of feeling so damned lonely. It had gotten to the point where I couldn’t go to sleep. Normally, I’d put on music until I felt better or started to feel drowsy but nothing was working the way it usually did. To remedy the situation I decided to bring on the big guns and was about to play some Beach Boys. Brian Wilson’s mastery of harmonies tends to calm me down, but I had the urge to hear something different. That was when I turned to YouTube to find covers of God Only Knows. It may seem shallow, but I clicked on the still with the cute blonde girl playing the ukulele. I mean, who wouldn’t? I found myself listening to all her covers and the few originals that she posted. What can I say? I was in love.
Her name is Julia Nunes and she’s gained a whole lot more recognition since then with a dedicated fan base. Being the nerd that I am, I decided to send her some fan love in the form of a comic strip, which she later featured on her cover of the Beatles’ All My Loving. Suffice it to say that should I ever need to put a smile on her face, I can always put one of Julia’s videos on. Fast-forward to January 14, 2011 where she would play a gig at The Echo in Echo Park. It’s a small venue where a seedy part of town meets a hipster part of town. She performed. We, the fans, were entertained. And there was mingling afterwards. When I told her who I was, she actually referred to me as “that guy.” Good times, indeed. She’s as sweet, nice, and cute in real life as she is on the computer monitor. I’d later see her again when she was back in L.A. for VidCon. And yes, it was just as awesome.
Don’t tell me what I can’t do!
I realize that I never gave myself closure as far as my LOST mission. The mission was a fail, but in no way would I consider it, in any way, a failure. I got two (technically one and a half) autographs from the show’s cast. The first was Jorge Garcia who was kind enough to lend his help in getting others to sign the poster. Of course it wouldn’t be characteristic of my life if it went on from there and ended the way it should have. I misread ONE word in the letter that Jorge sent back with my poster, which TOTALLY changed what he was trying to tell me. And like an idiot, I posted what I misinterpreted on the internet and was thusly grilled by not only the new protector of the island, but by a slew of random people as well. Those were not fun times. I posted an open apology to Jorge Garcia and while he never formally accepted said apology, his posts in which he gave me a deserved scolding were deleted. His other posts were left as is. That’s good enough for me.
The second autograph should only count as half since it wasn’t on the poster itself. When I saw that Harold Perrineau had a facebook account, I definitely had to add him. Did you know that he is as talented a singer as he is an actor? He’s not one of those performers that go on stage for the sole purpose of being the center of attention. He genuinely seems to be having fun up there and loves nothing more than to see the audience having a good time as well. How do I know this? Well, he performed at the Universal CityWalk and I went there to see him. I bought one of his CD’s, which he signed. It’s not exactly an autograph on the poster, but it’s an autograph nonetheless and that’s good enough for me.
I’ve got a dog. His name is Jack and though he wasn’t named after Dr. Shephard he does play a bit part in this mission. I walk him at around the same time, pretty much every day. And while I never grew the cojones to walk up to Sam Anderson and ask for his autograph, he does on occasion bump into Jack and me. It’s funny, you’d never associate a man who courteously smiles and greets a random guy walking his dog in the afternoon with an actor whose résumé is as long as Sam Anderson’s. So I didn’t get his autograph at all, but a friendly nod in my direction is good enough for me.
Now, I know the initial stage of my mission was to find four cast members and have them sign the poster. But at least I got to meet and/or interact with at least four. If you were keeping count I’ve mentioned one who signed my poster, one who signed a CD, and one who’s cordial to my dog and me. Well, it turns out fate stepped in (or was it Jacob?) and decided to get me to that magic number of four. I didn’t approach her as I thought it would be awkward to randomly approach a 14-year-old girl at Porto’s. I was there to get some lunch when Madeline Carroll bumped into me. That brings it up to four cast members, and that’s good enough for me.
I suppose it’s a sign of maturity or something like that when you learn to distinguish between settling and being content. I’m happy with what I was able to accomplish and actually managed to see some sort of potential in myself that I wouldn’t have otherwise have seen if I hadn’t started on this crazy mission in the first place. I could continue and talk about the polarizing (pun intended) finale of the show, but it wouldn’t do much to sway those who loved or hated it. I will say that I thought the sixth season, as a whole, was sadly the show’s most bland. But the last episode did bring closure to the characters and if only for that, I enjoyed it. As far as plot devices, I was never a big fan of the flash-sideways. For those who absolutely hated the finale, take solace in the fact that the obsession is finally over… for now.
Unconventional
I had made it an annual pilgrimage. San Diego Comic Con, which has changed its name to Comic Con International, is the mecca for any geek as me. But my financial situation had left me stranded at home instead of the sunny city of San Diego. I was determined to make my presence known and saw that I could submit a picture to the souvenir book. I saw that it was going to be Peanuts’ 60th anniversary and I knew exactly what I wanted to draw. I drew it, colored it, touched it up on Photoshop and saw that it was DC’s 75th anniversary too. I asked the editor what the word limit was and he said all articles had to be at least 1,000 words long. Perfect. With literally one minute to spare, I sent it off to cyberspace and hoped it had gotten to the editor’s inbox in time.
It would be some months before I would know if I made the cut or not. In fact, the editor told me that the only way I would definitively know if my stuff was put into the final product was when they send out the souvenir books after the convention. I’m not so good with patience so I did some snooping around and found out which of my friends was able to make it down to San Diego. To my surprise, they took both my picture and my article! Of all places to have my work published, I am extremely flattered to have it in the Comic Con Souvenir Book.
Some might say that that would be enough to be thankful for in the realm of comic book fandom and I, for one, would wholeheartedly agree. But apparently the gods of geekdom had other plans for me. Usually, I’ll make my own lunch so I could stay home and read or write (more on why that’s relevant later). But there was this one day, sometime between the end of Comic Con and whenever it was I got a copy of my souvenir books in the mail, where I decided to go out for lunch. I was in the mood for tacos so I went for tacos and I bumped into a Bruce Timm. Bruce Timm!!!! The man who brought Batman The Animated Series, Superman The Animated Series, Batman Beyond, Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, Batman Brave and the Bold, Tiny Toons, Freakazoid, and Animaniacs to television. And I’m not even mentioning all the animated films like Batman Mask of the Phantastm, Green Lantern First Flight, and Under the Red Hood. As far as being a fanboy goes, 2010 will be tough to beat.
Driven On By Some Demon
On January 27, 2010 J.D. Salinger died. I never knew him. I never met him. And in all honesty I don’t think I could say that I really, truly wanted to. I’ve read The Catcher in the Rye hundreds of times and when he died, I sat down and read it again in a single sitting. “What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.” You know you have a good story when your characters are still relatable even after 60 years. I’ve always been a bookworm, but The Catcher in the Rye is the first book that really affected me. It was the first novel that I put down and felt so connected and so alone at the same time. I had been writing stories and poems long before I read Catcher for the first time. But it wasn’t until I read that book that I realized why I wrote and who I was writing for. It was the first time I admitted to myself that I was writing solely for me and didn’t have to feel so guilty about it.
It didn’t matter what interview I looked up, what book I read, or who I asked, it seemed that there are only two steps to becoming a writer; the first being to read and the second being to write. I set out to read at least one short story a day and write a short story a week for an entire year. Not only did I accomplish this, but I’d even read some extra stories. And that doesn’t include the other novels and graphic novels that I read that year. Everything from the supernatural to horror to science fiction to character studies and one-act plays filled my repertoire. I made it a point to find stories that I’ve never heard of and I’ll admit that there were some that I didn’t like. But I slowly learned that that was the entire point. If I only read stories that I knew I would enjoy, how would I know what was out there? I broadened my palette in the hopes getting a better idea of what kind of writer I wanted to be. And what better way to broaden one’s palette than to have an adventurous appetite?
When I first started writing stories on a weekly basis, I found my ideas for stories in notes I had made from years ago, from vivid memories that refused to fade with time, and from other stories that I enjoyed as a child. But as time progressed, I found it easier (sometimes frighteningly so) to dig into my subconscious and fish out characters that practically write themselves. As the year progressed it got harder to put the pen to paper, so to speak. For one, it’s a daunting task to write a short story a week for 52 straight weeks. But the stories started to delve into more personal situations that even I couldn’t fully understand yet. After writing and posting 53 stories, I was exhausted in every sense of the word.
I don’t quite consider myself a legitimate writer until something I write gets published in a literary magazine. Believe me, I’ve been trying. For the past few weeks I’ve been sending out manuscripts but what makes it difficult is the limited number of magazines that take unsolicited scripts from amateur writers such as me. I believe I’ve sent out just under 30 stories so far, and have received only 4 rejection letters. While I can’t, as of yet, call myself a writer after all those short stories, at the very least I can say that I ended 2010 knowing myself just a bit better.
The Inexhaustible Charm
I suppose it was inevitable. I had been putting off this subject until now, even debating whether I should write about her at all. I won’t put her name up here, but I did, in fact, meet a girl; a very special girl. She’s beautiful, charming, sweet, strong, had a mind of her own, and a fun personality. In other words, there’s nothing about her that says she’d be attracted to a guy like me. And yet she was. Every time the phone rang, the butterflies would stir and I would be hoping, praying that it was her on the other end. We would talk for hours about nothing, hanging up only so we would have an excuse to call each other again.
On paper, she would have never given me the time of day. Every other girl that I’ve been out with, I’ve had to put on some sort of show, play some part, and ultimately I think that’s why those relationships failed. I vowed to be myself with the next girl I liked but I was afraid that doing so would give this girl good enough reason to leave me on the spot. Oddly, she still liked me. I was my strange, oddball self and she still liked me, even thought I was cute for thinking she wouldn’t.
I’m not accustomed to people doing things for me. In my own eyes, I’m nothing special but she begged to differ. She wanted to move closer to me, get to know me even better, even speculated that we’d have a serious relationship going on. I didn’t understand why she liked me so much, I still don’t. The pessimist in me nearly drove me to paranoia thinking that there had to be a reason why a girl like her would find a guy like me attractive. But she liked me for me.
I’d like to tell you that we’re together and we lived happily ever after but life hardly ever turns out that way for anyone. Let’s just say stuff got in the way. If I had my way, believe me, we’d still be talking to each other, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life is that I could literally go crazy if I don’t learn to let go. I’d give anything, really, to hear her voice again. I never wanted it to end and a part of me secretly hopes that she’s reading this so she knows. But if it wasn’t meant to be, I can only hope that, wherever she is, she’s happy.
I Get By…
I’ve gone on and on about the people I’ve met and the things I’ve accomplished and everything that’s happened to me in 2010. It’s been an eventful year and while I still struggle as a victim in this broken economy, I ended last year with a smile; something I don’t think I’ve ever done on a New Year’s Eve. But despite all the blessings that I have been fortunate to have been bestowed upon me, it’s hardly the reason why I would call 2010 the best year ever.
Tennessee Williams, the playwright, once said, “Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.” It’s hard to believe that it will be two years this June since I’ve graduated from college… again. The old adage is that time flies while you’re having fun, and while I did have a blast last year the reason I can’t believe that two years has passed is the company I keep. I still keep in touch with the same people that I got my degree with. That’s never really happened before. I graduate grade school and no one ever gave me a call. After high school, I never really heard from anyone again until I joined facebook. Even after getting my first degree, I never heard from those classmates again. But I suppose the company I keep now is different.
I never liked telling people about my birthday. I’ll throw it in conversation if it comes up, but I’ve always hated it when someone would bring up an upcoming birthday to vie for their friends’ attention. As a result I’ve never really had too many people come up and greet me when the day came. I didn’t mind too much, though I have to admit that there was a period in high school where it would’ve been nice to have gotten a surprise at my locker. So imagine my shock when my sister and my friends planned a surprise party for me. My love for mysteries coupled with the fact that my mom’s a horrible liar, led me to deduce the goings-on just mere hours before arriving to the party. But the sentiment was greatly appreciated to a degree that no one can truly understand.
The End
So that about sums up my best year ever. I’m sure there were some unfortunate instances, some snafus that put me in a bad mood, but obviously not bad enough for me to remember at all. Maybe that’s the trick to having a good year. There are the good times and the bad times, but in the end life is just a series of moments that you can either enjoy or learn from. I’m not going to pretend to know why things went right. But I definitely enjoyed the ride. I’m sure it’s not the last good year I’m going to have, but I’ve got tell you that it’s going to be tough one to top.
