Monday, September 16, 2013

Stories about me.

Odd, the things that can make you think. Currently, I'm reading (or attempting to read at the very least) House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski.  And I must admit, due to either it's tempting madness that it inspires, or the boredom of my mind through it's various footnotes and tangents, it has given me a fair few thoughts which seem nearly as random as the story itself.

While I could easily spend this post delving into the theories of what constitutes madness, the truth of the written word VS. the television screen, and how lucky some of us are that we choose to not let the English language devolve into the likes of Lol's and OMFG's, I've actually chosen to share some thoughts which are a bit more personal. So then, the question is, who wants to know about me?

To the chagrin of some of my friends, I've fairly constantly re-iterated that I don't have any particularly amusing stories to tell to match the ones they have about hunting, work, or nights of drunken debauchery that certain individuals would probably prefer were forgotten. To say that I don't have any stories of my own to tell isn't exactly accurate, though. Considering my fairly short time on this big, blue, spinning, marble; I actually have had my hands in a number of pies, though few have come up with anything I deemed particularly edible. 

Let's start with the picture there, as well as the one on my Blogger profile. Both are leftovers from an ill-fated attempt at becoming an Actor. It began with an open call on the radio while I was working one afternoon. At the time, I had suspended my college activities and wasn't up to much else other than the part-time job I had. So on the listed day, I hopped the ferry to Seattle and walked through downtown to where the auditions were being held. The auditions weren't for any particular part, but for an agency, looking to expand it's list of paying clients. I did my audition, smiled, and went on my way. A few weeks later I was called back and invited to come sign up and take classes, of which, there was really only one for people in my age group. I attended and learned a great deal about how to do a commercial. In addition to the cost of the classes (which I would be rather embarrassed to disclose), I paid for professional pictures and upon my return to college, signed up for classes on acting theory and practice. Great fun was had, though my grades weren't particularly good, and I made a significant amount of progress overcoming the introvertedness which had been my bane through high school. One particular class, we split up into pairs. One person was told that their partner had a killer outside the room waiting for them and we were to keep them from leaving at all costs. The other person was told their partner had just ingested poison and had to go get the antidote. In addition, the only thing both people could say to each other was "I can't let you go." So the bell sounds, my partner spits the line out as fast as she can, turns, and dashes for the door. I manage to let out an "AAHH!", my face in a pose I'm sure would not have been out of place in a  cartoon, and then gave chase, by which point she was through the door and out of the room. Yeah, so much for that assignment.

I eventually went on a total of two auditions after that, and then accepted the fact that Seattle wasn't the best place to start an acting career. 

In addition to trying different careers, I have to admit I've known some interesting people as well. I could do an entire blog post about the misadventures of my friend Junkfood Johnny, and that would just be the incidents I was there for. There was the time during Christmas break one year, my mom and I had made cookies the night before and I was walking down to my friend Tractor's house to do the typical christmas break hang-out of video games. As I came up to the yard, I saw Junkfood standing in the road, Tractor in his yard, and both of them screaming and swearing at each other at the top of their lungs. I walked up along the side of the road, looked at one, looked at the other, and then asked, to nobody specific, "Who wants a cookie?" Just like that, the argument was over. Everyone had a cookie, then we all went inside and played video games. I never did even find out what the argument was about, if there was any reason for it to begin with.

Cookies. Is there no problem they can't solve? (Besides obesity).

Then there are the other sides to me. I'm not always as sweet and innocent as I tend to act. (Did I really just say that?) 

At one point in time, I was working as Lot Maintenance for an RV dealership. Through dint of hard work, I managed to convince them to change a seasonal position into a full-time one for the length of my tenure there. Of all places though, I doubt there's anywhere else that I got up to as much mischief. Antics included such things as unplugging the TV sets in every motorhome, (A retaliatory move against the salesmen, who had a bad habit of hiding out and then leaving things on, resulting in dead batteries which were then my job to re-charge), an attempt at the Visine in the coffee prank (Which doesn't actually work), and Superglue attached to just about everything that wasn't nailed down. The creme-de-la-creme though, was the torment I did to one poor old lady that was hired on as Housekeeper. There were several things about her that just aggravated people to no end including spending the entire day cleaning a single bathroom, sometimes not even waiting for people to finish using it, and I, unfortunately, did not make things any easier for her. I took it upon myself, every two weeks or so, to completely re-arrange the supply closet just to mess with her. I switched things up from top to bottom, back to front and right to left. I don't make it a habit of making enemies, but I do feel a little proud about having earned the looong string of expletives she attached to my name when they finally let her go. 

All that doesn't even touch on family, which could make (and probably will if I keep this up long enough.) a blog post of it's own. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this little look at me. Enough posts like this, and we may even stumble upon why Horror is my favorite genre. In the meantime, keep in mind that we all have stories to tell.

~ Shaun

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