Curtains

And now it is time to say farewell to Ye Olde Blog, my most trusted and constant companion on this journey of hardship and adventure.

At the nine month mark, I see only a few possible outcomes of my year in Los Angeles. Either the city system will come through for me with a librarian job (full or part time) before the end of October, when my name drops off their list, or the system I'm currently temping with will offer me a permanent position, either in my neighborhood or on the coast. If I'm offered one of the librarian jobs in the Malibu region, I will move to the coast and enjoy breathing the cleaner air.

Barring those possibilities working out, I will return to Austin, an idea I'm increasingly warming to only because it will enable me to scale back on my expenses. Maybe not to the extent of that kooky, forest-dwelling failed actor in "Grizzly Man," but perhaps to a level where I can feasibly work part time, if I find a roommate and give up my car or share it with someone.

I saw the movie "11th Hour" last night and agreed with the central premise, which is that "you can never have enough of the things you don't really want." Or as the song "Express Yourself" so eloquently puts it, "Some people have everything/ and other people don't/ but everything don't mean a thing if it ain't the thing you want."

Along that vein, I think the central issue of our time is the corporate takeover of the planet and subsequent ownership of our lives. The economic game is rigged such that you have to work full time just to survive (and in a lot of cases a full-time job won't even cut it). In order to compensate for the loss of control over your life and time and a lack of community outside of work, you begin to desire "things," which in turn demand even more of your time and money. You also begin to require an unusually exciting life outside of work to make sitting in a cubicle for 40 plus hours a week worth it.

I think when you are young and have hope and the comfort of being surrounded by a peer group in the same boat, you can sustain the illusion that trading your waking hours for money is worth it and will pay off in the end. When you get older, and friends fall away, and you start to age, and romantic relationships don't live up to the hype, reality sets in, the rose petals fall from the eyes, and the idea of trading your life for empty promises begins to grate. I tried a new city to see if things might be different, but my time in Los Angeles has only reinforced those beliefs. The entertainment industry is, indeed, for the young. If I return to Austin, my focus will be on putting all the good free stuff that is under my control back in my life- sleeping in, reading, hanging out, and afternoon naps! Health insurance be damned.

On that note, I am now taking my bow, leaving my fate a mystery. Please leave comments if you have 'em.