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Welcome to Sad Salvation. Day by day by day by day ... this is my attempt to make sense of the world.



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Saturday, October 06, 2001


The Dream

I had a dream about work last night. In the dream my company was taking to Pennsylvania. My parents had decided to throw a reception at a house they had just moved into. In the dream the house was just down the street from where my parents live in real life. I spent most of my time at the reception just looking around my parents' new house. It seemed very small. I noticed that it only had two bedrooms. That means that I could not move back into my parents house. My sister Kathy was living in that other bedroom.

TiVo had hired an event coordinator for the retreat. I was standing in my parents bedroom and she walked in. We were away from all the other people at the reception. The event was about five foot ten, round face, glasses. She has long light brown hair. There was a good vibe between us as we talked. I took the chance and kissed her on the lips. After the kiss she was flustered. She said something about it not being the right time or place for that. I told here that I just wanted to take a chance. Then she kissed me back. It was a long kiss. I looked at the doorway and there were a bunch of people looking at us. The people were the people of my same level from work. They started to make fun of me right away. I moved so the event coordinator would not see the people from TiVo.

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Friday, October 05, 2001


Work, Web Logs, and the Real World.

I know that I cannot write everything that I want to write about work on this Web Log. I want people who I work with to be able to read it. I want to mention the name of the company that I work for, TiVo. I also want to mention my name. The problem is if I have these two things in this web log, who knows who will be able to find it. Some one might be able to search for it. I could cause some bad times for myself.

I never know how people are going to react in the world place. If someone fines my bitch about my job, it might be bad for me. I can see people say to me that if that is how I feel, I should look for another job. While I have problems with my job, I do not want to get fired because I am blowing off steam. That is something that I do not like.

A lot of the web logs I read people comment about their jobs. Most of my life revolves around my job. Am I going to be able to write anything interesting if I do not include my job in the mix. Will I feel there is a wall between my life and what I am writing? This is a tough question. For right now I will be careful about what I write about my job. Maybe I am kidding myself that anyone will read this.

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Thursday, October 04, 2001


Welcome to Sad Salvation

I looked at my life a few years ago and thought about something. I was sitting at a coffee house thinking about starting a new zine. I was trying to rack my brain trying to figure out what I could personally publish that would be interesting for people to read. I was thinking of the zines that I had read recently. There was nothing that I was reading at the time that really excited me. Most of it was pretty meaning less.

I had read a decent number of zines. I have even published about a half dozen issues. I looked at what other people were writing. I found something incredibly personal in zines. They were a place where people could try to construct some kind of story about their lives. The zines I was reading at the time where unlike any of the other stories I was finding in the rest of the world.

Being 23 years old there was something really empowering about zines. I was right out of college and I seemed to be going nowhere in the world. All of my friends were facing the same situations. We were working at bookstores and restaurants. We were clerks and temps. We spent our time watching clocks and find ways to slack off. Zines seemed to be the best way to work out our artistic frustrations. Using the office copy machine to cut the cost of a zine was a natural thing to do.

I was sitting at this coffee shop and I was not 23 years any more. I was 27 years old and my friends were starting to find their way into careers. They were becoming teachers, designers, and engineers. It was my day off from a dot.com start up. The way my life was happening was slowly sinking in for me.

For most of my life, my friends have been the artist type. Growing up we would tell stories, dream up comic books, and talk about the kinds of movies we wanted to make. We were all writers at heart. As I went through my life, these were always the kinds of people that I became friends with. We were people who dreamt about making our impression on the world. We thought about big ideas and big ways to express them. The problem was that we were becoming regular people.

There is a whole generation of people that are just like me. People that in their heart see themselves as writers and artists, but their job does not reflect that. We are sitting around playing in bands for recreation. We write zines and web sites as an artist outlet. We keep on thinking that someday we will be able to break out and become a true artist.

In this light, writing a zine is Sad Salvation. It is not only our artistic salvation, but it is also salvation because it is what we value most in this world. I am not speaking about everyone. I am just talking about a type of person I seem to be close with. We are not starting families, we are not growing roots in a community, we are not working toward building specific lives for ourselves. I wonder if we will ever find that Salvation we are looking for.

(I have the feeling this needs a re-write)....

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