Birthday Journal 2009.

Dec 16 2009 Pyeongtaek, South Korea.

I always write a journal on my birthday. Usually it’s the sort of reflective drivel I hope everyone writes; full of narcissistic lusting that life was as sweet as we can imagine to be. 

 I can be happy everyday of my life, but my birthday comes and I’m a glum little dude unable to find the daylight through the dark.   As you imagine, I’ve had plenty of ‘great’ birthdays i tried to enjoy. Emotionally, I only watched and interacted on them as through thick prison glass. Some were good though.

This year was different, not unlike last year, which also broke the pattern by failing 3 of my 5 birthday traditions. 

1.Write a song on my birthday.

2.Be on mainland north america

3.Write my Journal in pencil in a notebook and never share it.

4.See below.

I woke up this morning ...or rather, didn't sleep last night, and asked myself what I asked myself three or four days ago: Will I be sad on my birthday?

You - “what a sad stupid strange question to ask yourself...” 

Me-  Either way you look at it, your birthday comes and you finally consider if you actually like your life. A lot of people don’t. 

I totally dig my life, but I guess I’m always wanting more (pretend you didn’t hear that).

I thought about whether I'd be happy, like last year, or not.  The thinking of it got me thinking.

It’s really my choice.

I can set down daft feelings of being ‘unsatisfied’ or ‘wishing my life was different than it is’, and decide to NOT get all sad. That means no “God, I’m why am I still waiting for you to do ‘this’ or ‘that’.. Still waiting waiting sad waiting, where is it?!!!”.  It means no phrases that start with “I wish....”  

It’s tempting to use my crazy imagination to fantasize that I was Emperor of the Free World or some sort of miraculous end-of-days prophet that billions recognized as a great holy man.  I kind of love role-play and putting myself in other peoples shoes, and that can be a place to run, when I have things to deal with I don’t want to deal with. Stress enters, I leave. 

But last November I pressed a huge button I found hanging over my life. It was there all along and I guess the thing terrified me and to be honest the last thing I wanted to do was hit that button.  It was painted black in nail polish and so it looked like sticky death to me. Maybe.

If my outer world was like a tornado ripping apart towns and farmland, my inner-world was a Hurricane, sweeping up not only cows and farm hands that took too long to find cover, but oceans and cities. 

 I drove from Moose Jaw to LA and hit ‘RESET’ on my life.

I was done. Done complaining. Done dreaming. Done fighting. Done hiding. Done worrying about myself, done worrying about everyone else.

But you know this, no?

Well last year I went Jim Carey and enjoyed saying yes to happiness and fun in a Hawaiian winter with my baby bro (Willy the wise) visiting our mama.  I won’t tell you what I did, that one’s for me. It was a best-ist birthday.  But that reset button must have had more nail polish than I thought, because It took a bit of work to press it in all the way.

I spent most of this past year all alone, hermiting in the caves of california, complete with wifii.  I really needed it.  I loved it.  Imagine a living without a hurricane going on in your head and your heart. Thats how good it was, like a buddhist in tibet in some flick that makes our western lives look ridiculously busier than they ever should be.

The start of my RESET was that there was a lot of stuff I was doing to myself in my own choices that I had been blaming on God, Fate, and Others.

I had Jonny Rempel’s mom called me today and her and little koreans sang me happy birthday in korean. The funny part about that is that I am in korea, and they are in in Strathmore, Alberta.  I love life. Talking to my Jonathon was rich, guys like me and King David need them, maybe that’s why I have so many.

I decided that if God has given me  a choice in how I would feel about today, then my choice would be that it was be an awesome king-day without a gloomy moment.

I get taken out to dinner tonight by John and Ferial. They’ve taken me to many exquisite and superb restaurants. Right now though, I only feel like running off to McDonald's... I have few hours till they get off work... Plenty of time to google McDonald's and go on another Korean Birthday Adventure...

I’ve already been on a few today.  One involved me wandering out of the city into a village to meet up with a massive FIRE.  I think they thought I started it, because I’m white  (note: this was a “no-iPod” walk, quite different than the standard iPod walk).

I need to go and see how well I’ve learned how to read Korean, it is my birthday after all and I’m not going to spend it typing to you all day on the computer, I don’t care who you are.

Closing thought from, Kurt Cobain  that popped up on my gmail this morning: “Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.".   To prove how insensitive I can be, I’ll admit that when I read that, I didn’t go “awww”, I went “isn’t killing yourself with a shotgun also a waste of the person you are?” 

I guess it shows I have a ways to go yet.

But thats enough about me.

We Want To Join A Story

Let a story hit you, a second or so of solitude, and you have a life-moment.  You might enter the apartment and notice the lights left on, as you read the note on the door reminding you to shut them off. You’re too focused or too unfocused to lash yourself.  You ignore the call of computers and the 'webbing' because you desire a bit of space, and sit on the sofa.  There it is. 

The story gets to you as you stare out at the world you are in. You shut off all wishing and intentions enough to see it for the thing it is. Just your life in its present position. No more, no less. Nothing bad happened today, but you feel a longing to have that thing the characters in the story -like most stories- have. Resolution. Redemption. Purpose.

You wish your life was like a story, a book, a movie. At any stage along the way you could bolster and solace yourself by knowing there is a purpose and resolution coming, indeed. You hold back the usual regimen of aims, ambitions, and emotional energy thrown out at the plans and hopes for your life, used to excuse the vain content of each numbered day to your thinking brain.  A sadness skulks inside your emotional boundary.  Time to jump up and put away your coat and shrug it off. Things are heading somewhere, you tell yourself.

I think one of the reasons a worldview like Christianity grabs my ear and heart in tandem, is that it collects the oddly drab and indefinable moments of our aspirational days and sets them into the storyline of a comedy.  There the characters never fail to face cruelties and conflicts, yet the resolution to such striving is set into the machine already.  In the Christian worldview, history spreads out on that great canvas called time progressing to its deliberate end. Each of us have our meaning therein.  In that space our in-betweens and irksome realities of the ‘now’  hold a tempo. They can be sorted into plot-points in a sequence purposed to entail the significance and redemption we often covet.

We want to join a story, 

and the prophets say we are part of a story.

 In a life-moment you expect they are right.

Korean December II: John's Genius

John Trammell knows where he is, on the ground, at all times.

he doesn't get lost like mere mortal men. Over a week with him winding down back alleys and weaving through crowds, if he says "we are two blocks east of where ___ is located" then you know its true. We all say "no john" and then he is right. we knew it.  I should add that Subways don't count, and Ferial is the one who you rely on is any subway situation, also, she is great at reading Korean.

That said,

John wanted us all, last week, to go to a resturant in Seoul he schemed off an article in the New York Times, and some of us naysayers  were skeptical about it being worth the price... it was the best food, almost ever ever. Surely will be the best meal we'll have here, and every bite was a dream sequence.

The place is called  Chamsutgol, where their star dish is  galbi (beef short rib), they bring you the raw meat to cook on your table top grill, and here they provide real sutbul (wood charcoal) -- a real treat as it adds a smoky flavor. One of the signature dishes we had here is the galbitang (stewed beef ribs), but you'd better arrive early because they only make 40 orders of it per day. 

One of the best places i'll ever eat in my life, thank you John the Genius,  this experience is up there with Greg Bowcock taking us to House of Nanking in San Francisco.

Last night we found a great sushi place John took us to and insisted we must try, after he did a bit research and got a hunch about it. It's the first one John and Ferial have been able to stomach here. Apparently Korean sushi is very very different than the Japanese style we enjoy in the Americas, and it is not a good difference to lovers of the other style.  We found a winner though, and it was worth the cash John spent on it. 

Thanks John, that was sooo good.

I think the place was called Marie and Mare, or something like that (next to Mr. Pizza, who’s slogan is “Love for Women!”) It is good, so...next time you’re in Pyeongtaek, you know where to go to curb your need for good Sushi.

Korean December

How to get by in Korea: have friends there that help you get by.

This week marks the end of my time in Korea as a tourist, bumping around Pyeongtaek and Seoul with the Trammells, The Majzoubs, and King Rempel.

I was supposed to leave at 5:40 Sunday evening, but alas, The Creech strikes again, adventure emerges.

A lunch with some key people, an made impression, and then the offer... 

Now I’m staying for a month or so.

I get to spend the next weeks coming here in Korea, spending a bunch of time on my Masters Thesis Project toward my MFA at AAU, soaking up the culture, and spending dear time with friends.  Part Hermit, Part Student, Part Tourist, Part Friend, Part Facebook Junkie.  All good things, maybe.

I get to spend a few days living with Jonny Random himself ( he is Bill Gates, Billy Graham, and Bill Cosby mixed together) before he returns to the Great White North, which you can bet is full of heaven-minded time, much appreciation of his genius, and fellowship par excellence .

I took a long walk on Sunday and almost missed the house church at the Trammell’s because I got terribly lost in some rice fields. They live on the edge of this mega-city-thing, so you can walk under an overpass and into some fields. I didn’t think I could get lost, now I know I can. Humble Pie eaten. Tastes so good... Not. I blame having inspiring music on my iPod, thanks for nothing Steve Jobs you wonderful man... or.. thanks for everything. yes.

Allow me to break down my time thus far: Great Restaurants, Friends, hugs, New Friends, Busses, Trains, Taxi Cabs, Subways, Markets, standing about and chatting with Muhi as John and the girls shopped till they dropped. These are the things dreams are made of.

Also, I ran into the only Korean I know in Korea, by chance, turning a corner in Seoul. A city-area of 25 million peeps, in a country of 48 million. 

We pass through an alley way and Sang-Don of Fender Hall is there in the flesh!  He notices the ever-tall John Trammell, and we meet him and his fiance. How cool is life?

I love getting to see how my friends are living overseas, to see their little community, their place of work, their spiritual and social lives, not to mention their Kindles.

Kindles are awesome. I’m seriously considering one, just to make use of the mountain of PDF books I own on my computer that I would never want to read on my computer screen. Death to eyes! ...maybe I’ll wait for the money to start rolling in.

KOREA : flight and arrival

Flight to Korea, Singapore Airlines.

Off the bat, because they noted that I was a single passenger, when spots opened up they called me up and gave me a aisle seat in a three row with another person so that we each had an empty seat between us. Such makes a trans-pacific flight into a dream.

Secondly, they had these first class seats that were literally thrones, the largest I’ve seen, that looked more comfortable than a lazy boy, and were the same size or larger. I actually might consider upgrading my flight home to experience such zen (let’s be honest, I won’t).

Never mind, those seats were business class, the 1st class are even bigger, a desk mixed with a bed. cool

Next, they gave us those nice heated towels that make me feel like a million dollars and had nice and helpful young stewards that helped each person get their bag situated,

The pillows were big.  

Awesomely they came by and handed out Givenchy - socks to put on over your own so you can take off your shoes and relax during your flight.. BOOM this is tops,

This comes along with toothbrush and toothpaste... Am I on a cheap flight or in a nice hotel?  My money feels more worth it on foreign airlines. American stuff sucks.

“Medical situation on board, if there is any medical professional, could you please identify yourself to member of the crew please thank you.”

Wow. 

Watched Julie and julia.. Is it recent events? Is it perhaps the weakness in me, I feel quite strong and happy but I’m almost crying all the way through julie and julia... So human, not necessarily a great film or anything like that, but some deep parts of me are being touched that I can’t really grasp. Just the holding back of tears and the wetness of eyes, ready to pour out saline .

Plus I find Julia Childs sooo cute and hilarious.  Maybe someday I can have a cute wife. That would be fun.   Being alone is also fun, but if my wife was cute like julia, I would love that too.

I want to marry a woman who cooks in pearls. Amen.

Side-note about my script for my Masters Thesis Film: on the flight I watched (500) Days of Summer, and have ran into to a major problem...  The names of the main characters are Tom and Summer... Which were the names of my main two characters.... NO!!!

I guess I need new names... Ouch.

Customs went really fast, thanks to Trammell telling me the info I needed to know, so.. Score!

IN KOREA FIRST NIGHT

feels like I’m in KoreaTown USA for the most part so far, since it was night and I simply see Korean signs and enjoy a bus ride with my dear friends.

Me and Jonny Random had a sweet little visit, staying up and eating noodles and being the funny nerds we are. Validation is someone who really really gets you and appreciates your quirks.  There will be much of that between Johnny, the Trammells and I these korean days...  Makes me promise myself not to marry anyone that doesn’t truely appreciate all my funny little quirks

Woke up this morning to a whole lot of daylight. Loooove it. 

This made my day

thanks, John Dale, for showing this to me.

How to Date a Hot Celebrity

How do you date a Hot Celebrity ?

i made a top 10 list to make it easy for everyone else...

10. Be hot yourself... and know it.

9. Knock on her parents door, while she is over.

8. Be funny

7. Be smart (this works especially well if her dad was a pastor and you studied theology)

6. Pretend to have NEVER heard of her and force her to try and sell herself to you and convince you that she is worth your time.

5. Hope to the Lord you drive a 1988 toyota station wagon you can pick her up in.

4. Take her to In'n'Out.

3. Bring back to your apartment to watch the season premiere of The Office.

2. Follow it up with the new hit "Community"

1. Play Halo with her and your cousins till 2:04 am, and be barely able to get up in the AM.

PS. if the only pictures you took were on your cell phone (since you camera got stolen in Hawaii) it might be nice to know how to get them onto your computer and not delete them when you try out 'bluetooth' and thought it worked.

Top Ten things That Pop Into My Mind

Question: what are the top ten things that pop into my mind when i sit to blog the Top Ten ThingsThat Pop Into My Mind?

Answers:

(in order of appearance)

10. Hot sauce, namely Tapatio

9. short hair on women is sooo hard to pull off, but can be done

8. The chick on "quantum of Solace" was hot, and that movie was way more fun than i expected it to be from the bad reviews i heard early on.

7. I hope i can keep my numeric order correct on this thing, you know how bad i can get with numbers.

6. I miss playing scrabble with John Trammell, - monopoly too, Star Wars Monopoly. funs.

5. is my food getting cold? yes. shouldn't type while eating.

4. Halo 3 is different then i remember... did i always suck this bad or does not doing something impact your abilities, and if so, then how good at kissing can i actually be?

3.Why am i soo entertained by my own lies about how I suck at Love and how girls don't like me?

2. Will the US ever make some huge wall to border Mexico- and if so, will we be allowed to walk along the top of it like the Great Wall of China?

1. Can we still hire McCain to do the important presidential stuff like 'make decisions’ and 'govern' while keeping Obama as our black poster boy who is young, hip, and does all the 'speaking and media stuff'?

Art and Living: thinking out loud

David Maybury Lewis once asked "why do we separate art and living?" in his documentary on the Wodaabes tribe of Niger, who, in his terms, doesn't make a split between art and everyday life.

His phrase juxtaposes shots of the tribe in their artist regalia and some western family in bland button up shirts, ties, and pull-over sweaters walking looking at paintings in an art museum. His point is that they integrate art as part of living itself, while we separate it and leave it in museums.

I wonder that David has got us westerners wrong.

We, in the west, are classically too hard on ourselves and count the things we don't deal with everyday as exotic and artful, and forget that our lives too, are art in all parts- from the bland suits we wear to the bottled water we drink from.

try telling the clothing designer that he is not an artist who makes his life on his craft.

it's fair to say that different societies view art differently from one another, but that perception is just that... perception from a certain plane of thinking. As well, very very very few cultures actually do not distinguish between art and life.

what does that even mean? who would say art is not a part of life? when i think about it, it must mean everyday life, and even that point seems farfetched when i really think about it.

we make distinction between paintings in museums and the make-up we put on our faces, but that line is pragmatic.

show an exotic tribe at one of their very few festivals, all gussied up and differently ceremonial about everything than us, and it will look like we keep art in a museum and they live it out, but that is far from the truth. methinks it is taking advantage of that festival and the fact that their garb for the occasion is much more elaborate than our common t-shirt and jeans.

And even the Wodaabe women carry around their 'calabashes' (pottery) which is never used but set up for display at their festivals a couple times a year... which sounds like an art-show to me.

Bros Before ....(you know)

I was looking forward to some privacy again, as time led up to my little bro leaving our apartment in San Jose to go back to his place at Utah State University.

But tonight, when i entered the room and he was all packed up and car-loaded, i saw his side of the room, all bare and empty. his half of the closet deserted.

My heart dropped, and i was lonely before he was even gone, before we took our last ride, to change cars in Fairfield. I knew that we'd grown together as a pair inseparable these last months, and that i would miss him and have to fight off tears as he went.

Bubba and me, now apart, sad days.

I liked having him as partner to journey with through a summer of sales and self-understanding.

I liked it being my little brother.

We've not had the chance to become great friends, and this summer did it, i'm thankful for that, no matter how lonely i feel right now.

I drove back from Fairfield tonight alone, for the first time since May, and though it doesn't sound long, it feels deep. funny how that goes.

I'm kinda shocked and put off by it, i had planned on this transition to go smoothly, and now i feel all sad and strange.

maybe i do have a heart after all...

grace

here is a video off my photobooth the night i cut my hair

the Blah

has this summer almost slipped away?

and here i am so uninspired. so fraught with thought but no filled cup to pour from.

this long work and knocking has bled me dry of the kind of mental-emotional energy that it takes to write, sing, draw, blog, record, edit, etc.

usually i'm on many projects at once. now i'm a single-minded man, weary at the day's end.

My sleep is all broken, and i can't remember not waking up in the middle of the night.

is it stress? i feel stressed in sleep, stressed thinking i'll get phone calls of sales cancellations or something.

I'm typing now, because its the weekend, and there was some rest in the day, and now some juice in the box, but not much.

going to a church in Rocklin tomorrow.. wonder what it will be like. i don't expect much. maybe i'm super realist, or just smart enough to doubt great things happening, or just blah.

i guess i feel kind of blah.

but it's blah that's under control.

does that make sense? i mean i use it, or choose it, rather. I choose the task that is most important at the moment to spend the energy on, and push other stuff aside.

well, i try to, at a least.

i wonder if this is important... or just blah.

I'm Starting

I’m starting to like sales.

Its tough, the hardest. But it is rewarding.

I like everything it’s bringing up in me, all the issues it attacks. It takes such courage and self-togetherness to be a great salesman. It takes and extremely strong mind that can listen to a million rejections and lies and still smile at the very next door a few seconds later. It takes getting your mind and life straight.

You can’t have a messed up life at all and be anything of a salesman, especially door to door. You’re emotions must be in check, your goals, your prioirites.

It’s the greatest character building thing I’ve done in the last four years.

I knew it would be so, which is why I chose to do it. I wanted to see how old Tony would hold up to such conditions, such challenge, such terribly relentless hard work that makes you soo sleepy and yet which has you waking up in stressful fits all night.

I haven’t had a whole nights sleep in weeks. I wake up four or five times, and am always tired. I hope I get over this.

I like this. There are moments (especially at the end of the week) when I want to run far far away and do an easy job, like cleaning classrooms, or teaching.

But God has given me a chance to learn and to master not only my mind and self, but to be able to read, handle, and direct social interactions on a crazy level. Plus I can get paid out the wazoo. AND I get to live with my baby brother (who is a great saleskid and who has more than twice the sales I do.... But I will catch him yet! .. P.S. Last week He was rated as #2 in the whole company for sales.. Crazy!)

If everyone could do it, it wouldn’t pay so much.

I hope I get the hang of it. So far, so good.

Long story short: I don’t hate sales anymore. I kind-of like it (especially when you sell stuff you can believe in, something good.) Learning sales has meant so much maturing and dealing with stuff and becoming a man and all that glorious Life-Learning stuff many never do. how can I hate it?

But I can’t wait for the job to be done and have a chance to see you again.

Liars

People often think of salesmen as smooth talking liars who are trying to cheat you.

The truth is that salesmen are some of the most honest people around.

The truth is the other way around. Salesmen don’t lie, CUSTOMERS LIE.

We knock on the door with some truth, and people lie out of their butts.

They say its not their house, when it is. They say their parents aren’t home when they are on the couch yelling for the door to be slammed in our face. They say they have no money, when they do. The salesman has to steer his way through an ocean of lies pouring out of potential customers.

Sell You

Buttercup: You mock my pain.

Man in Black: Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.

Funny. Me, of all people, a salesman.

If there is one thing I’ve been trying in my life NOT to do, it’s SELL.

Trying NOT to SELL Jesus

Trying NOT to SELL myself to girls.

Trying NOT to SELL myself to employers and friends, churches, etc.

Trying NOT to SELL briercrest.

I’ve thought that generally they were things that shouldn’t ever be sold.

The last thing I’d want to do is to SELL Jesus to someone, like I was selling Pest Control. And I’d hate to SELL myself to some chick, like I was a new iPod she should consider. I’d rather just be me and have her fall in love. (I know I know, maybe that’s not working out...hahha. It’s ok, I sold myself for years like a used car salesman, and I’ll never go back)

But now, Selling is what God is asking me to do. (not girls, I mean like, for my job)

So let’s get on with it.

Is selling wrong? Convincing wrong?

Here is the first lesson God has humbled me on and opened my eyes about.

We are always selling something.

Let me explain. - it might be better to say that we are always COMMUNICATING something, and giving other people an opinion on it.

Some of it is out of our control. Some of it IS in our control.

What if I’ve been subconsciously selling myself to others as something I’m not?

I sell myself to MYSELF. I’ll say dumb crap like “you’ll never make it”, which is selling a lie. And yet I feel like I’m trying to convince myself when I do the positive “you ARE gonna make it”. The sad thing is, I’ll let myself do the negative, and I won’t even realize I’m selling myself some dumb lie.

Does that make sense?

I’ll let myself look like an idiot, and sell myself shorter than I should.

That’s not humility, thats coping out, and its not the TRUTH, but some negative attitude lie I’m buying into.

Why do I not suspect the negative, like I suspect the positive?

People try to sell me on the idea that I’m good “you’re great”

And I think “you’re only saying that”

But if they sell me on my own demise “you suck”

I think “oh man they are right, I suck”

And so goes the selling of negative messages, and our fast purchase of them from others and, mostly, from ourselves.

Can it be so wrong to sell good messages, especially true ones?

“sell” can be such a BAD word. I know. That’s how I used it to start off this thing.

To say that they are trying to SELL you something seems to imply dishonesty, or slyness. It also seems to imply that the thing being sold is cheap and people don’t just want it, so they must be sold it.

People who follow Jesus don’t want Jesus to come across as some odd cheap thing being sold at the kiosks in the middle of the Mall. Those people look down on the Jesus’ Folk with the tracks on the street corners and signs on the sidewalks and dance groups all selling Jesus like he was a new edition of the News for that day- worse, a give away offer, not even sold- like some crappy coupons people stick in your mailbox and you hate having to throw away.

The Jesus’ Folk that do the track-type stuff see it not as sharing Jesus himself so much as sharing a message about him, like journalists spreading the news that the Axis Powers had finally been defeated in World War II. They don’t understand why People who Follow Jesus don’t just jot down the message and slap it on the windshields of cars that are parked in the mall parking lot.

Is that even worse than selling Jesus? He’s a coupon?

But when they don’t use tracks, they are saying something about what they think the gospel is, they are selling it, only a different way. Like the idea that when two people talk they are always selling ideas to each other, or trying to.

When a salesman comes to your door, you are trying to sell to him the reasons that you can’t buy it, while he is selling you the reason why you should. Both are selling.

In a sense, you’re selling yourself on ideas all day long. The question that is most important remains- are you selling yourself lies, or truth? Are you feeding yourself negative generalities that are unhelpful, pessimistic, short-sighted guesses about the future, which all happen to be based on deep unresolved fears?

Don’t blame God or fate or the person to your right. Take responsibility for the hilarious things you try to sell yourself .

Open Rebuke

Watch it in HD on YouTube!

I wrote this little thing, this last semester. I didn't mean for it to be a locked-tight parable or anything, just something to stir the mind, and to ask questions about love, and how identity is formed by relationships.

It's about hidden love, open rebuke, and how we choose paths, and align our identities with others.

Who do you align yourself with that controls your identity?

Knocking On Doors

I thought it was Knocking On Doors.

I’ve always been so shy in those kind of social situations.

Knocking on a door for the first time is like standing before a firing sqaud. I’d come to a new friend’s house, and sit across the street for fifteen minutes examining the surroundings, and weighing all the evidence... determining if I was at the right house.

If i knocked on the wrong house apparently the sky would fall in on me, leaving only a mangled left foot. If it looked like i might end up knocking on a wrong door, i'd just end the friendship.

I was wrong.

That was the easy part, still is. i should know, i've done it now for almost two full weeks.

It takes you two full weeks to know everything about anything, a relationship, a marriage, kids, all of it.

I recommend using the first two weeks of anything to base your entire estimation of it on.

side note: sarcasm is also sweet.

My first day of selling i found my finger pressing doorbells and my hand knocking doors and my face smiling and speaking and selling and doing and- no sky falling, no left mangled foot.

I don't hate knocking on doors.

I kinda like it.

even the "no soliciting" people can be fun, and you can laugh when you hear people yelling at you through the window.

I like the Knocking On Doors part. I've knocked on hundreds of them already. for real.

Don't know why it was so easy

(i doubt i've grown up or anything... the bank still scares me..)

I guess i just told myself it's time to let the "boy" die in that regard and i'm gonna do this, even spend the whole summer doing this, and so i'd better ignore all that emotional stuff and just get a going.

done and done.

1st lesson learned is:

1. Direct Selling (door to door) is the hardest job in the whole world mentally.

I thought i was pretty strong in the whole brain department... strong minded, strong willed - all that good stuff that can be bad stuff when you step on others.

I was wrong. My mind has gotten so smashed, crashed squashed and crumbled,

you'd not believe it unless you've done sales before.

Sales is the hardest profession.

Other jobs you can suck at and earn money.

Other Jobs you get paid for what you know.

Other Jobs are easy, you only need to work hard to do well, to get paid.

sales you can work hard and with all you've got and have nothing to show for it.

that is hard.

I've learned that sales is harder than i thought, and my mind is a weak, shaky, flighty thing.

2nd lesson learned is:

Salesmen are great people, a piece of the best.

Ultimate lesson:

It's not knocking on doors...

I hate sales.

I thought I liked sales and hated knocking on doors and bothering people, but I had it wrong. I like bothering people, I just HATE sales.

Sales sucks.

Everyday I go through a roller-coaster of fear, then I hate this, then ‘this is easy’, then ‘this is fun’, then ‘I hate this I hate this’, then ‘I’m never going to make money’, then ‘I’m gonna be the best ever’ then ‘I’m wasting my time, I hate this’ then ‘get yourself back in this game’ then ‘why can’t I be doing something I like and getting paid for it, rather than doing this and not getting paid for 90% of it?’ then ‘I’m doing this, I’m not doing this’ “im going to quit’ then ‘how do they do this all summer” ‘what time is it- are we done yet?’ then “I’m so awesome at this!” then “I’m quitting soon”.

And on and on.

And that’s on a good day when you don’t get stuck in a pity-party.

Knocking on Doors is fun, it's sales that is the worst stupidest job in the world, and there should be a statue of every man that does it.

I hate it.

But I’m not quitting.

I kinda want to see what happens if I just keep going.

Will I make no money and learn nothing?

Or will I learn ‘everything’?

I think I need to do this. I need to not quit. I need to follow this through all these hard days where I feel like I’m holding my mind and self-worth together with strands of cheap tape.

Who will I be after a summer of knocking on doors, by the hundreds? A summer of mental fight- of mastering my self and emotions?

I don’t think I’ll quit, though I can lie and say I’m not results-driven and pretend I’ll stay it out no matter what. But I don’t think I will. I think I WILL stick around. I want to know who I will be if NO MATTER WHAT,

I just keep

Knocking On Doors