Ok, screw the Y2K scare with people afraid of everything from the Second Coming of Jesus' 2nd cousin Jimbo to being attacked by their toaster. I suspect the biggest letdown of the last millennium was the start of the new one. Something worse, something far more hideous is going to happen soon. I'm turning 30!!! 30, my god, it's only a few more years until I start dyeing my hair and combing the side over the top, driving a red convertible, and trying to pick up 16 yr. olds at the local high school. There' one thing I'd like to say at this point........ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR You see, supposedly, by this time I'm should have a direction for my life, be working some decent paying job so some bank will be willing to put me in debt for the next 30 years or so for a house the size of a Volkswagen bug, and picking out names for my future children that either will or won't get them teased in school, depending on how many beers I've had the night before. But none of that has happened and so I'm left wondering what happened to the kid that wanted to be a fireman, no wait, a writer, no, even better, international spy James Fucking Bond (emphasis on the fucking). Yeah!!! that's it, fun toys, cool job, hot women, what more could a horny, adolescent geek of a boy ask for, except maybe a mint condition vol. 1 issue 18, Green Lantern comic. Basically, I've been wondering what happened to the dreamer that used to be inside.

Anyone else remember that time? Remember when you used have these big plans of all the great things you were going to do, places you were going to go, the adventures you were going to have. Remember sitting in English while your teacher with the monotone voice droned on about conjugating verbs, day dreaming about conjugating with the blond one row over and two seats up. Recall, if you will (if you won't then don't bother reading any further) those time you sat around your variation of the local teen hangout with your friends drinking beer purloined from some unsuspecting parent and talking about what you were going to do when you got out of this fucking house, school, city, postal code, etc (again, emphasis on the fucking, but in a different sense this time). Now, look around, actually get up and look around and take stock of yourself, physically, emotionally, where you live, work, the relationships you have, everything. Go on now, shoo. I'll just stay here typing number signs till you get back. ############Hey, get your lazy ass out of that chair right now dammit!!#######Lazy motherfucker. ##########Jeezz!!##################################### ############################################################################ #Now ask yourself if this is where you'd thought you'd be, if you are who you'd thought you'd be, if you are living the life you'd thought you would. If your answer if "You fucking bet it is!!" (once again, emphasis on the fucking, but in a completely different sense that the first two) then save yourself some time and delete this message, and go surf the web, I'm sure Microsoft has another security patch for Explorer that you'll need. If not, read on, misery loves company.

Now, it's not that I'm actually miserable, or even slightly melancholy. I don't consider my life a waste or failure, far from it. But I am left wondering what happened to that adventuresome little voice inside that used to say, "GO FOR IT!" LIFE IS FUCKING FUN! (meaning #3) Now his sniveling younger brother says things like "You got work tomorrow." and "Don't bother she's only go to laugh at you. And "Why bother your only going to fail again." The whiney little prick. Somewhere along the line I've gone from "WooHoo!!" to "Eh, Whatever." And after much soul searching I think I found a metaphorical answer lying under some lint in my navel.

I call him "The Beast", "The" to his closest associates, I don't think he has any friends. Not a very original name I know. Hey, creative I am, but names are not my forte. Anyone who can come up with a better name gets a drink on me this Friday. The sole judge will be me, so good luck contestants. Bribes and sexual favors will be taken, but will have no actual effect on my choice. Now, what was I saying, oh yeah, The Beast. Now what this nasty, big old meany is all the negative crap that has ever happened to you and me. He's the date that stood you up on Prom; he's the one that unzipped your fly when you were in front of a roomful of your peers. He is ever asshole/bitch that you've dated or worked for. Every time you take a chance and fall flat on your face, he's the one with the foot out. Every time you give your heart to someone and have it handed back to you a bloody pulp, his size 11's are all over it. And every time you find yourself behaving like a bitch/asshole he is the one pulling your strings. For you see, he is actually a part of you and me, or she if you prefer, this is an equal opportunity metaphor. Oh, he starts off innocently enough the first time you burn your hand on stove or whatever equivalent let you know that life wasn't all cheerios on your head and Lego’s down your pants. (Ah, those were the days!! Um, wait, forget I said that) Annnyway...he starts off with the best of intentions, i.e. that hot stove is going to burn you so STOP TOUCHING IT!, and as the years go on grows in power until you find yourself in an unconscious fearful apathy. An empty void that most live inside of, unaware of it and on those rare occasions when it does come to their attention they run in fear further into the cave.

I'm sure everyone has experienced it at one time or another, to one degree or another. An uncertainty as to what you want, or why you're behaving a certain way. "Why did you just do that me? That really hurt" "I dun know." Afraid to do X or Y. "Why didn't you ask him out, he really likes you? "Maybe, but..." And a sense that life basically sucks so why bother. "Why don't you break up with her, she's a bitch?" "Yeah, but she's the kind of girl I attract, I'm used to it, so why bother." If none of this sounds like you then why the hell are you still reading this? Go on, git, shoo, vamooos, I hear Xena's on right now, so make like a beer and piss off. Generally the response to the sudden unpleasant feelings of discontent is to find some way to distract yourself until the feeling goes away. Burying yourself in mind-numbing work, getting completely plastered on a nightly or weekly basis, hopping from bed to bed in meaningless, one-night stands, Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons, whatever it takes to distract your mind off this hopeless, lost feeling. This mental bludgeoning can very in degree and intensity from the occasional binge to a full bore, balls to the wall orgy that leaves you with three brain cells, a liver with it's own area code, an ulcer the size of Rhode Island, and a history making collection of sexually transmitted diseases. Mix and match, take what you want and come back for more, it's a 2-for-1 sale, gotta go, gotta move, bob and weave, duck and cover, until, at last, finally, in the end, you work 9-5 to pay the bills, and thank god it's Friday, gimme another beer. A women becomes just an interactive sex toy, a man is just a way to get free food and drinks, and are nice adornments for when you're out in public (feel free to swap the genders to your own personal preference). Now I don't mean to suggest that any of the above is a universal truth, applicable at all time, to everyone, everywhere. This is just my observation of my own life here in Denver, CO on Weds. April 12, 2000. There are over 6 billion people on the planet. I have met less than one percent of the population here in my hometown. My ego isn't quite so big as to think I found the ultimate truth....not yet anyway. For most the distractions we use are probably much more mild and mundane. Anyone ever feel like you're in a rut, doing the same things every week because you can't think of anything better to do? I know I do.

There are times in most everyone's life when they feel disconnected, when they ask, "Is this really how I wanted to live my life? Do I really matter" These experiences can vary from mild to severe, can happen weekly or occur but once in a life. Where do you think mid-life crisis come from? And if you've never felt this, again I ask, why are you still here? If you're sticking around just to find out how this all ends I'll let you off the hook now. The butler did it........ in the pantry .............with the cook. There, feel better now? Good. Now you can move on with a clear conscious and do what you've wanted since the beginning, finding free porn sites. Perv. As for the rest of you you'll find you have three choices; change yourself, your beliefs and expectations, what you want in life. Or, you can decide this is all there is and just learn to live with it. In which case, stop whining, you're annoying the fuck out of the rest of us, and I for one like fucking and have no desire to see it leave (1st meaning). Or, finally you can get out, e.g. commit suicide, either literally or figuratively by blowing your brains out with a gun, or by using drugs and alcohol until your brain the consistency of Malt-to-Meal. These three choices, by the way, work can also be applied to relationships, with your boss, your friends, or your lover. Blowing your brains all over a wall, however, is considered bad form by Emily Post, try something a little more mild like quitting or breaking up with them. Bloodstains are hell to get out of the carpet, especially shag.

As the last two choices are pretty much self-explanatory I'll only deal with the first one, changing yourself. But before I do that my legal staff has advised me to put in a warning. Changing your life can cause depression, moral outrage, anger, fear, self-doubt, and have you crying in your beer at a touching Latter-Day Saints commercial. It can also induce compassion, love, a sense of wholeness, and general enjoyment of life, not to mention a strange sense of humor. It's Chapel Perilous, the Dark Time of the Soul, the Hero's quest, and that feeling you get when you wake up at 3a.m. clinging to the floor in the hope you won't slide off the world after one to many.

There have been times that I was so depressed I just sat around in my boxers living off the crumbs in my couch. I've been pissed off at everyone, friends, family, God, and random people in the street. I've been the White Knight riding on his horse, on a crusade to save the world from itself. There were times I wouldn't say a word, certain that if I did everyone would laugh and mock me. And I've doubted that I could do anything right, certain that I would fuck up if I took a chance. It's what Ross Jeffries, Neuro-Linguistic-Programing's (NLP) Don Juan, calls Microfuck 1.0. The belief that everyone and everything in the entire universe is there to insure that you fail. Is the process worth it? Even from the short distance I have come, I would have to say yes. You see, I never realized just how much my identity rested on feeling shitty until I decided to change. There's this part of my brain that right now is going, "Wait a sec, what the hells going on? Something's wrong, I feel good, but something's not right. I don't know anymore." It also runs around in my head naked, screaming at the top of its lungs, and tripping over random synapses. It makes for some surreal moments I can tell you.

As to how you can change yourself? Well, the truth is, I can't answer that for you. What?! You thought I was going to give you the keys to eternal happiness? Sorry bub, no theologians here, try the office down the hall. Everyone's different, so if your looking for a one-size fit's all path, try Jerry Falwell. What I can do is give you some pointers that I have found useful. I'll be brief, as this has already gone on far longer than I originally intended

First off is humor. The ability to laugh at yourself and life. To not take everything so seriously. To let The Beast know you're still alive and kicking. In Stranger in a Strange Land Heinlein defined humor as "crazy courage." He argues that because life (The Beast) is so painful that we have to laugh to let it know we're still unbroken, that we will not yield to it's crushing weight. By the way, there's a free lollipop to anyone who can think of something funny that doesn't have pain involved. And by pain I mean, loss of dignity, physical or emotional hurt, or humiliation. Humor, however, is a great tool for keeping one on an even keel. There's an old Buddhist saying I have on my wall. It say "Behave as though the fate of the Universe rested upon your every action, and laugh at yourself for thinking that anything you do could have any effect whatsoever." It's a beautiful saying. Acting as though you matter and laughing to keep yourself from becoming a moralistic fanatic. The Christian Coalition could use a collective bellylaugh. It'd probably kill some of the more devoted members, though. HEY! A win/win situation. I LIKE IT!!

Next is a Yin and Yang thing, Solitude/Friends. First, take some time for yourself. Step back from everything and ask yourself what you want, without considering what everyone else thinks or expects. It can be just a few moments in the morning just after you wake up to toss your alarm clock across the room to a full blown trip to "Australia." (For those of you who don't know, going to Australia started off as a weak attempt at humor by me to let people know I was taking some time off for myself awhile back, and turned into a code phrase for anyone who wanted some time alone with offending anyone). Hell, take yourself out on a date, go have a nice dinner, see a movie, whatever. If you can't spend time with yourself, what the hell makes you think the rest of us want to? Then, talk to your friends. Ask them questions; share your concerns, dreams, and yourself. If I had been more open with my friends I probably wouldn't have gone through some of the hells I put myself through. Others can often see things that you can't, both about you and about life in general. They're your support group, and it's a poor friend who's only around when you're in a good mood. So use them, and let them do the same. The problem with trying to do it all by yourself with no or minimal support is that you take on the weight of the world, even if the only problems you want to solve are your own. And if you feel that you can't share with someone, or they cause more problems and hurt than they help, dump them. They're not a friend as I define the term. Someone who constantly takes from and dumps their problems and insecurities on you without returning the favor is using you as a landfill, a prop for their ego, nothing more. You're one of the distractions I was talking about earlier. You'll probably be doing them a favor and certainly doing one for yourself. They may like it, but don't let that stop you; such individuals usually find someone else to psychically leach off fairly quickly. So let them go.

Finally, find some sort of internal work to help you through the kinks in your brain. It can be psychoanalysis, journal writing, painting pictures, a shamanistic journey, learning to read your future in your coffee grounds, whatever. Just so long as it's an organized system for making changes in a person's life. An organized system helps because you'll get a sense of progress, a feeling that your going somewhere and not just bouncing around life like before only using self-improvement fads instead of alcohol to distract you. If you're uncertain what to chose, e-mail me. I'm not an expert but I am familiar with allot of what's out there and can help you make an informed decision. Fair warning though, I have been subliminally conditioned by NLP masters Ross Jeffries and Tom Vizzini to promote their training and products. Hey, I'm just starting to learn NLP. I haven't had a chance to attend one of their seminars yet, so until then I'm at their mercy. Beside, if I get 10 people to try it, I get 10% off a seminar. In fact, I feel a strange compulsion to share one of the techniques right now. This technique was developed by Tom Vizzini and modified by me to suit this essay, any mistakes in the steps are mine not his, but it's guaranteed to have no ill effects, so you've got nothing to lose by trying. It's called Smurfing.

What you do is this; picture The Beast, toss in all the negative crap from your past, all the hurt you feel now. Build him up 'til you can see him, hear him, taste him. Just don't though any actual people in, no matter how much of a prick they may be. Not only is it not nice, it can give you a sever case of bad karma, and we're trying to avoid that. Once he's clearly in your mind's eye, surround him with a cold, blue field of energy. Then turn him cold and blue, and shrink him down. Keep going, small, cold, and blue until you've turned him into a smurf. Hence the name. Now, stick out one of your hands and picture a lightning bolt launching out and striking him. Vaporize his ass; launch him into the farthest reaches of space. Keep it up until you're sure he's gone. Then do a Kevin Spacey; stick your fist in the air and go, "I RULE!" If he comes back, do it again, don't let the fact that he's got a warp engine tucked up his ass stop you. It gets easier each time. Have fun.

In conclusion (collective sigh of relief) remember, everything here is just an opinion. You can use it, or not. You can do something, or not. The choice is yours. This essay, organized religion even my beloved NLP, can't make you happy, or solve all your problems. They're just tools. Something to help work things out and have some fun. Only you can decide how you want to live. And if you don't want to, or doubt you can change, don't worry. By this time tomorrow I promise you'll have forgotten all about reading this. Now I'll leave you with a short, very short, story about Richard Bandler, co-founder of NLP. Thanks for reading this far.

Richard is not a man who takes kindly to the words "can't" and "impossible." The more you say them, the more he gets ticked. Say them often enough, loud enough and he'll storm out, don his leathers, hop on his Harley and drive back through the fucking door of whatever fool pissed him off. Then he'll park his bike in the middle of their office floor. "You can't park that here!!" "I just did."

Doing my bit to make the world Furbie free.
Pat Vawter

P.S. This essay is 100% free of any subliminal message, NLP sneak trances, or hidden pictures of Opus the cat who's a good boy and loves his momma. Any changes in attitude, beliefs, or sudden psychotic episodes you may be experiencing are entirely your own. So don't go blaming me.

P.P.S. Feel free to pass this on to co-workers, friends, family, random people in the street. Just make sure their not easily shocked or offended. I don't want someone's sweet, old granny with the bad heart on my conscience.

P.P.P.S. Send me feedback. Let me know what you think. This started out as a rant a 'la The Onion about turning 30 and took a right turn into something else. I think Microsoft stuck a black hole on my 'puter. It's longer than I original intended but not nearly long enough to go into the depth the topic deserves. So if you have questions, or just think I'm full of shit, let me know. I'll try and answer them if I can, or maybe you'll have thought of something I haven't. It's that whole Solitude/Friends thing. I came up with my own ideas about life, now I'm looking for what you think. Note: Flaming will not be tolerated. I have e-mail filters and a delete button, and I know how to use them.

P.P.P.P.S. At no time was there any moralistic finger pointing, so anyone who thinks I wrote this to them how they should be living their life can just chill. This is my soapbox dammit, get your own. The same goes for anyone who feels I'm disparaging getting older. The turning 30 bit was just a metaphor about my recent internal dialogue, not about the ills of getting on in life. So relax, have some Geritol, and go watch Diagnosis Murder. Old fart.

P.P.P.P.P.S. Why are you still reading, I'm done. The rant's over. Go make yourself some tea. Go on. Shoo.