Millenials, Entitlement, and Happiness

So, this article came out and people are linking to it and responding to it and I thought I would throw some of my thoughts out there into the mix as an early (late?) millennial who has thoughts, dammit, and wants those thoughts to be heard [I do have a blog, after all. I am Generation Y. Hear me make tentative suggestions via an impersonal platform]. 

Thirst for Adventure

I am a millennial. Sometimes, I confuse adventure with happiness. Whether it's studying abroad, backpacking through Asia, snowboarding the alps, going to Burning Man, eating an endangered species of fire ant, being homeless for a month, or hitchhiking through the Sahara desert, I want to do it all--right now. (Maybe I can raise the funds for my backpacking trip through Kickstarter? Hmm.)

There's this restlessness inside me that refuses to be quenched unless I'm saving orphans in Papua New Guinea while simultaneously inventing a new system of water filtration and launching the latest and greatest app for the iphone. 

I just feel like I'm in stasis, you know. 

I've got it! I'm going to move to LA and pursue a career in filmmaking.

Unnecessary Suffering

Okay. I have a college degree and a background best described as "middle class." I have a few resources (see also "Mommy & Daddy" below).

But, since I'm following my dreams and chasing adventure, I'm living well below the poverty line, subsisting on food stamps (but still eating organic!), sharing an apartment with at least 5 other dudes, and missing one or two student loan payments. 

I work in food service, which I hate, but hey, at least the hours are flexible so I can intern at the record label two days a week. Half the people there don't even refer to me by name (I'm "that weird intern"), but at least I'm pursuing what I love. 

I don't have a car and that sucks, but I think riding the bus is giving me some really good ideas for this screenplay I'm writing about a young person who moves to the big city and meets this homeless man who gives him tons of great advice about how life is about more than just material possessions.

Underemployed and Loving It

Heck, I have so much free time between jobs, I'm writing at least two pilots right now, which I hope to pitch at the monthly networking event I go to (free drinks!). 

I'm thinking about taking an acting class so I can become a better director. I know it's pricey, but if I up my hours at the Cheesecake Factory I should be able to afford it. 

You know who I saw at a party the other day? Ryan Gosling's younger brother, Joe. I wonder if he would be interested in my script about flesh eating slugs who turn out to be harmless, peace-loving aliens with a mission to turn the whole universe vegan.

Mommy & Daddy

I'm not proud about it, but every so often my parents put money in my bank account when I'm not looking. 

I just know that they believe in me and they believe in my dreams as much as I believe in me and my dreams. 

Thanks, Mom & Dad. 

Don't Quit Your Day Job

I work in a book warehouse packing books. Boxes upon boxes of used books arrive at the warehouse every day and are sorted into two piles: keep and throw away. 

One co-worker refers to them as "boxes of broken dreams":

Becoming a Successful, Working, 'Yes, This is What I Do to Pay My Bills' Actor.

Move Out of Your Parent's Basement: A Spiritual Guide

You Too Can Get That Impossibly Beautiful Woman Who is Way Out of Your League to Have Sex With You

Sell Your Screenplay in Five Easy Steps

Every self-help book starts sounding like it's directly judging my life choices: 

If You Have a College Degree And Are As Smart as Your Kindergarten Teacher Said You Were, Why are You Working for Minimum Wage In A Warehouse With No AC During the Summer?

And

What Are You Doing With Your Life? What Would Your College Alumni Magazine Think of You Now?

And 

You Are a Failure

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Do not have health insurance. Do not have a good answer when people ask, "What do you do?"

Keep or throw away. Keep or throw away.

Follow Your Dreams

I am a millennial 20 years later. No one writes articles about me anymore. Now, there is a new generation to pick on (I hope they give them a stupid name too. Like "perennials.")

My life has exceeded my expectations, but not in the ways I thought it would. 

I'm still pursuing my dreams--but those dreams have changed or morphed into something new. I know how lucky I am to have these dreams and to have the freedom to pursue them. 

I am happy.

Nihilism, Ambition, and Minor Revelations

I recently spent some time at my mom's house going through all my stuff in the garage. In the process, I had a few minor revelations--let's call them "Thoughts upon going through all my crap."

Minor Revelation #1 - Taking Latin was unnecessary. As was taking trig, calculus, Bible Literature, European Civilization 1...

I've already mentioned my penchant for academic masochism. And I took a lot of classes. A lot. Like way, way more credits than I needed to take.

I don't regret any of the unnecessary classes I took though (actually, scratch that, I regret taking chemistry). There's something so hopeful about registering for a new semester. I miss that part of college. I miss learning for the sake of learning.

Now explain to me why I kept all of my trig homework...

Minor Revelation #2 - I spent a lot time researching things.

I don't even want to talk about how much time I spent researching what college to go to, leafing through those glossy brochures with pictures of attractive undergraduates spread out like lawn ornaments. I think the hypotheticals themselves were compelling. It's fun to dream about the future. However, my life has been a lot of theory, not as much action. The research has to end eventually. Right? Eventually, you have to make a choice. Choose a college. A career. A city.

It's no coincidence that one of my resolutions for 2012 was to "Think less."

Minor Revelation #2.5 - The direct correlation between my attachement to an object and my affection for the person or experience with whom/which the object is associated

Minor Revelation #3 - I wrote/write a lot. A lot.

I mean, dear God, if there was a margin to be spared on an index card, pamphlet, or receipt, I wrote in that margin, dammit. I scribbled down shreds of profundity and banality--okay, mostly banality.

I guess this isn't much of a revelation. I write. It's what I do. Now, if only I had confined my writing to logical places, like journals and notebooks. Sometimes you just need something to write on.

Minor Revelation #4 - If there was something I was even remotely interested in, I went after it 100%.

I was extremely ambitious in my teens (not that my work ethic always cooperated). Where any rational, sane person might have been like, "Hey, maybe flying to Tahiti to build an ice cream factory isn't such a good idea," I was like, "Sign me up!" I had quite a few terrible ideas. Thankfully, not all the things I pursued panned out.

Sometimes it's not the thing itself (say, video production) that's the misdirection. Sometimes, you are simply incompatible with the people or the organization. I hate to say it, but you really do have to be in the right place at the right time. Perhaps the world is not yet ready for your genius. Or more likely, you still have some growing up to do. Right place. Right time. Right person (that would be you).

There I go, giving advice again. I need to write about another career myth--the myth of experience, or how do you figure out what you want to do when you grow up? I'll tell ya what you don't do--base your entire career on a single negative or positive experience.

Again, I don't regret being overly, scarily ambitious during my high school years. I did a lot of worthwhile things, however,

Minor Revelation #5 - Everything is meaningless.

"Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done

    and what I had toiled to achieve,

everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind;

    nothing was gained under the sun."

[Ecc. 2:11]

Sifting through years worth of stuff--keeping the best of it and tossing the rest--I was reminded of Ecclesiastes' famous existentialism.

I spent a lot of time thinking and/or worrying about things that I could not care less about now (I'm looking at you, Homeschooling).

Likewise, things that seem to matter now probably won't matter at all at some future date. We can all relate to the thought that "everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind." Pleasure. Wisdom. Accomplishments. Great hair. The perfect body.

People. I believe that people matter. And despite the meaninglessness of accomplishments, I still feel compelled to offer something to the world, however small, insignificant and temporal.

I still have to figure out how to live this life.

How to Survive a Day Job Without Losing Your Mind

Photo by Rob

Last time I wrote about Working for Free Without Losing Your Self-respect. In this post, you are working for money, not Kit Kats. Congratulations!

However, chances are, you are not yet getting paid to do what you really want to do. You are working a day job--slightly pleasant, less than stimulating, occasionally tedious. Welcome to the next 40 years of your life.

Just kidding.

I believe that you are meant for bigger and better things. But in the meantime, here are some tips to get you through. First--a little contextualizing background: After working for free for a couple months and a month or so of funemployment (I was actually pretty bored), I got a real job working in data entry. So, here goes:

1. Feed your mind.

I may or may not have "watched" an entire four seasons of Grey's Anatomy at my previous day/survival job. Hey. Don't judge. Those were desperate times.

Ok, so don't do what I did and watch trashy TV. If you work at a job that doesn't engage your mind, find something that does. I recommend:

This American Life
Audiobooks. They could save you. Many libraries offer audiobooks for download (no late fees!).
Itunes U

2. Pay your rent.

This may seem obvious, but if you are not making enough money in your day gig to afford rent, you might want to consider getting another job. Or two. Don't go into debt if you can help it. It's not worth it, and chances are you're not going to sell your brilliant screenplay for $$$ just yet.

3. Pursue your passions [on the side].

It can be easy to lose sight of why you moved to Los Angeles in the first place. Just because you're working a day job, doesn't mean you can't pursue your passions. Make time for writing, or acting, or shooting. It may seem counter-intuitive, but sometimes the tedium of 9-5 can be a shot in the arm, creatively speaking.

4. Flexibility FTW

If you get to choose your day job, I would choose something that gives you the flexibility to pursue your passions. Sometimes, it can be a trade off between pay and flexibility, but if you can get both--my job was more of a survival job [as in, barely making enough to survive], but it did give me the flexibility to work other, filmmaking type jobs. I lucked out. Ideally, your work will support you and your goals.

5. Respect your work.

At the same time, it's important to respect the work that you do, that people are counting on you to do your job and do it well, whether that's pulling pints or packing boxes. Respect your boss, respect your co-workers, respect the work.

6. Write it down.

If you are working a particularly boring job, you will have a TON of ideas. A ton. Make sure to write them down (if it doesn't interrupt your work). Scribble stuff in a notebook on your lunch break. Brainstorm during your commute. Take advantage of the ideas that come to you when you're not even trying.

7. Surrender your expectations.

This is a tough one. But if you can, work on letting go of your expectations for success--of what you "should" have achieved by now. Yes, some of your peers will be more successful than you at this stage. So what? You are not your job. And besides, the job that's going to fulfill you completely doesn't even exist. If you're currently working a survival job, I highly recommend reading this post (part of a great series) about underemployment: I Work, Therefore I Am.

8. This is only a phase.

I repeat: this is only a phase. Yeah, I guess you could end up working at Chipotle for the rest of your life, but I highly doubt it. I bet you 12 Kit Kats you'll end up doing something else. I used to stalk about mentally wringing my hands over how I was "wasting my life" working a job that didn't challenge me. Take heart. There is more.

Tune in next time for "Your First Real Industry Job: Don't Screw It Up."

Life. And stuff.

I want to write about how much I like my new job, but I'm not sure if I can. So instead, a story:

When I was 16, I went to visit my dad in Beijing. A visit meant to last one month somehow stretched into six. For reasons I don't fully remember, comprehend, or wish to think about, I didn't want to go back to North Carolina.

I applied for an internship with a humanitarian organization in Beijing. As part of my application, I sent in an essay I had written for school entitled "Sexism in Paradise Lost" (It started early, folks). Somehow, I got the internship and started translating articles from English to Chinese.

This humanitarian organization also happened to have a media department. Cue life-changing event: I learned how to edit video using Final Cut Pro.

I started editing a camp video. I had dreams about cuts. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was hooked. For the first time in my life, I was truly passionate about something.

I remember editing late, late at night in the empty office. I remember how I felt going in after a weekend away, the mixture of trepidation and elation as I pushed in the door--would they be happy to see me? Would I still feel at home? Did they think I was a nuisance? I remember the huge crush I had on a guy who worked there. He was at least 14 years older than me, and I tried really hard not to have a crush on him, so of course I did anyway. But most especially, I remember Ivy, the director of the media department, and how her enthusiasm, kindness, and dedication to teaching made me feel.

Interning there changed my life. And ever since then, I've wanted to be that same kind of person for someone else.

Because I know that if it weren't for the people who have mentored me and encouraged me, I wouldn't be pursuing filmmaking. I would have given up before even starting.

Maybe this helps explain how strongly I feel about church, production, and mentorship.

I feel very, very grateful, because I know the real world so very rarely bears any resemblance to the experience I had when I was 16.

I've mentioned this to some of my friends, but there have been times and places and people that have made me feel like some of my strongest character traits are a liability. I'm independent to a fault. I'm passionate and a bit obsessive when I really care about something. I'm extremely focused and driven. And sometimes that hasn't gone over well, and I've paid the price for falling outside of the gender norm or otherwise stepping on people's toes (egos).

None of this is true in my current job. I can be independent, driven, and a little bit obsessive, and it's not only okay, it's encouraged (not that I have nothing to learn about being more interdependent and sensitive to other people).

I can breathe. And for that, I am extremely grateful.

Passion and Plastic Water Bottles

So, I'm working on this shoot and the weird thing about it is there's no drama. I mean, I suppose there are little bits and pieces of it, but barely enough to register a blip on the dramatic Richter scale.

I'm used to drama on set. Outbursts. Catastrophes. Fits of pique.

Stuff goes wrong. Stuff always goes wrong. But the root of all drama, I've decided, is ego.

When I'm working on a project--unless it's my project--I usually can't see the big picture. I'm focused on my tiny little corner of responsibility.

I think I'm fairly good at being single-minded, focused.

This kind of tunnel vision is awesome as a writer, director, editor. But as a below-the-line (?) person, not so much.

I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, but I have been passionate--passionate--about the consumption and waste of bottled water on set. Because I drove to Costco and bought that bottled water, dammit, and now you have the nerve to leave it lying around after drinking one lousy sip!

I had passion without perspective. I was scaring myself.

It could just be simple pride: My work is important. My work is more important. I am more important.

(And I doubt that the opposite is apathy and neglect, necessarily.)

I care. But I don't want to care so much that it gets in the way of doing my job or treating people well. I want passion without ego. Dedication without contention. Persistence without perfectionism.

I want to invest everything I can, and then let it go. 'Cause even if it's mine, it's not mine. I don't have the big picture.