From these ashes....

Well...it's been a while.

In a few weeks I am about to embark on the next chapter of my life. 2009.

As I look at this past year, a feeling of accomplishment, no of gratitude, washes over me. God took me out of a position and placed me on a different path in life. I have done what I thought was never possible. I have lept off the precipice of sanity and logic and have been caught in the net of fortune and fate.

I have made the insane moves. The daring risks. I stepped out the boat in the middle of the storm. I let go of my fears of failure and spiders. I now live on my own. I thought I would never escape the grasps of the woman who raised me, but ultimately, killed me.

I was heart broken by the same person who I would have, at the time, sacrificed it all for. My mom and I no longer speak as much. My dad and I are now in contact. I am planning to visit him this January. My heart is taken by somebody. She's the awesomest. And I am glad God put her in my life. Again. My friends are a total new breed of people.

I own a blackberry. While I resent the fact that I assume the look and demeanor of other corporate peons flicking their thumbs over glowing trackballs checking personal emails amid the morning commute, it nonetheless makes me feel...cool? In the now? My balanced personality prevents me from swaying right or left on the issue. Also because my job pays for it. So...booyah.

I have come to hate cursing. Helps that the people in my inner circle despise it with a passion, but also I found my vocabulary. I also sing. Wow. Me? Apparently someone thought I had a tenor tone, and put me on the choir. So now, every saturday...I am up there belting it out in rehearsal.

This blog was somehow started out to voice my gripes with the corporate world, and being a low level leech in the midst of that, but somehow, through personal circumstances, my position, vision, and way of life has been elevated from that....

Define New Post

It's amazing.

Everywhere I go, people tell me..."I see you doing great things!"

I was having a discussion with my room mate and he kept mentioning that I was put here for a purpose. Ever had that scary, eery feeling that you are here...but really not...sorta like an alien?

That's how I feel.  

I don't see myself as a leader, or a hero, or anybody with any worthwhile contribution to society to make. I am barely existing as it is!

But somehow, somewhere...someone sees some worth in me.

Regular Rant

Saw Max Payne the other day...and I have to say...I am insulted as a New Yorker!  New York is not as dirty, dimly lit, infested with used warehouses as they portray. I am so tired of Californians trying to create a New York from slices and excerpts they catch from old photos and dime novel thrillers. They did the same thing with Spiderman...what the heck? An Elevated Subway line running along the west side? Ok...stop. Do your research. Or even better...take a trip to the place...take a sketchpad or movie camera, and feel, smell, taste New York before you start wasting millions creating some fanciful creation that insults the very natives you are trying to portray!

So I will be going to CT the first weekend in November

And it excites the crap out of me...

For the simple fact that I will be pampered and prepped for the measly costof 150 bucks.

I need, want, yearn for a break from the monotony of the changeable.

Feeling much better, I decided to go do some online shopping for cameras, because I intend to ditch the one I have now. No particular reason except I want a change. 

That in and of itself scared me. Have we, as a society, become so focused on this disposable mindset? We get tired of something, we throw it out...replace it...reinvent it.  I think we take this mentality where ever we go.  We been programmed to do that by greedy corporate conglomerates who know that contentment, in the long run, is not profitable. The only way you are going to get people to open their wallets is to constantly provoke them to feel inadequate about what they have.  Make them uncomfortable, and they will pay to shut you up.

Now on the flipside, we taken that mindset and applied it to so much else. People don't stay in jobs, careers, relationships, homes long enough to actually build some resilience.  "You can do better!" and "What you have isn't good enough" are the mantras that pervade our society.

And the saddest thing about that is, although I see myself falling prey to that mindset, I honestly don't want to change it!

I finally get my own space

This weekend I moved. 

A quiet little nook in the Bronx, sharing a basement apartment. It's dark most of the time, which sucks, but in light of my recent spirits, sorta fits my mood.

But yes, I now am able to consolidate my sleeping area and my office in one cozy little spot.  Now that I have all these projects going on...my main focus is actually holding on to it. I have no help in the running of my company (which is in the process of being incorporated) so I have to do the sales, the marketing, and the work. Grrr....

It's time to hire some people...

And yes, I lost a client this weekend because of my illness. My pinkeye prevented me from churning out any work, and now I lost about 400 in net sales because of that. 

I definitely need to hire people. This is ridiculous.

OK...I will blog on a couple of topics that been on my mind, but maybe when I am sitting in the quiet coolness of my den will I be able to think and parse out my emotions.

Do Heroes really exist?

This is an outcrop of the discussion at my job about the popular tv show, HEROES.  

Now I have never watched an episode of it, but from what I hear, it sounds pretty interesting. It draws me to the whole notion of superhuman powers being within the reach of humans.

For instance, I think that sometimes I am weird...(in a good way)

In 2002, I had a dream that I was hanging out on the shore of a lake with my old neighbors from my old block. We were kicking it, when one of themm, Justin,  (a dude I was never close to, but knew well) fell in, and got caught up in the undertow.  Renzo, another neighbor of mine, dove in to pull him back, but he went down.  After a few minutes, Renzo was able to drag his body back to shore, but it was too late.

 

Two days later, my neighbors went fishing.  Justin drowned. As was the style at the time, Justin was wearing super baggy denim jeans that soaked up the water and weighted him down.  I didn't go...but I was shocked nonetheless

Then a few months ago, I think in late April or early May, I had a dream I was standing on 91st street and 1st ave.  Never been there before, however I knew where the cafes were, the bodega, etc.  I turned, and saw a crane towering over a construction site. It was lifting some metal object really high and then it sorta snapped.  The crane toppled and I screamed as it went down....literally it was falling on top of me.

I woke up in a cold sweat, and I looked at the time. 6:00 AM. Hurriedly I dressed and ate some meager breakfast, and went to work. At the job, the radio was on, and the music was interrupted by an alarming report that a crane had collapsed, killing two and damaging millions of dollars worth of property. It took place on 91st street and 1st ave.

Another example was yesterday. I was able to describe to someone, in detail, all their personality traits and nuances, (favorite color, particular drink they enjoy, where they were born, etc)  all from pictures on their online social network profile. I shared this with my other friend and she also concurred with my assessment, having been the neighbor and friend of this woman for five years...which up until that point I did not know.

I have also jumped rooftops in the Bronx, that had 10 feet gaps between them. I kid you not.

So, I wonder, in the midst of all this...do I possess some unseen ability? Do you? Do we all?

Are there heroes among us?

It's whatever

So the working world called me back last Thursday and said they had another desk with another name on it that matched mine, in some non-descript office building near South Ferry.

I said yes, and thank God I did, because in the face of what I learned over the weekend, keeping busy is the best thing for me.

Being let down by human promises only reinforces the sad fact that people will fail. No matter who, what, where or when...no one is exempt from making decisions that ultimately result in harm to themselves, reputation, to those who are close to them, and even to those who don't even know them (for example of that, look to our current president)

Last week, I was happy-go-lucky...enjoying life, smelling the roses (not literally...it's fall here in NYC after all) and just absorbing it all.  Today, I feel as gloomy as a London rainstorm.  Life isn't sweet, it isn't pretty, and the one who calls you friend today, will fire the gun that kills you tomorrow.

Thank God I believe in a Jesus that somehow, although the world is jacked up, maintains His stance. I'm kinda glad there is a Heaven...stuff like this makes me wanna go there ASAP.

In a way, I am kinda glad that I have that bitter experience under my belt. Short of seeing someone die in front of my face, I need things like that to harden me up...toughen me up...make me get in touch with pain and emotions that will ultimately create something positive within me.  Maybe it will help my writing...maybe it will help my ability to help someone else...maybe it will help me to have that attitude of..."It's all about me"

At any rate...I'm going to be ok.

It's insanity

To be willing to talk to someone after they shred every ounce of trust you had in them. It's insanity to miss breakfast because your so mortified at the depths to which they descended in their personal life. It's insanity to be not be grateful that you got out before the crap hit the fan, as any successful Wall Street worker will attest to when they make a killing before the Dow Jones slid thousands of points.

Its insanity to feel a sense of grief at the loss of those people who do that. Its insanity to want to mend them. Its insanity to feel that no matter what you got their back. Its insanity to feel anything less than wanting to cut them off entirely.

So yes, I am insane.

I found out I look good

In a bookbag, hoodie, jeans and converse.

My work day starts whenever I get up. Drink some coffee, read me some Bible (Yes, God is first) argue with my room mate about the ethics behind asking permission prior to consuming my food, bang out a half-hearted letter to my head hunter of choice, and then browse the boards to see who needs some cheap labor.

I don't consider myself cheap labor. Just smarter. I don't have a secretary, classy office, I don't even have a printer. That's what my roomie is there for.

Morning goes on, phone calls trickle in. Jane from Acme Staffing* calls, Sony wants to interview. Ehh...ok...they better be playing the song I want to hear. John from Top Dog Search* saw my resume online...problem is...he is calling from Wyoming (Are IT people that hard to find?) and he wants me to be some nameless peon at some nameless corporation in the middle of the Boonies in NJ. (AKA Nameless Junk)

Then some smart aleck emails me from two weeks ago, to pick up our conversation as to where we left off. Contracts are discussed, prices are kicked higher and lower, and then...a meeting is set up.

I look up at the time, o crap...it's 11:00 and I am meeting a client for lunch....

Shower, change into a choice pair of 30 dollar jeans, throw on my Phat Farm hoodie (Just the way it slinks on me, makes me feel like one of those cool kids from campus!) and head out the door.

Usually it's a woman I am meeting up with...and I don't mind that at all, except when we sit down she wants to talk about matching "the exact shade" of color that she picked up from a paint swatch at a Benjamin Moore store. It irks me just the slightest bit because as much as I want to please her (as a customer, you perverts!) it sucks that I have to rely on a non-calibrated monitor to do only what a calibrated, 5000 dollar machine can do.

No matter...

Moving along, make sure she tips my bill for the coffee I drink, head out...with a check in hand, no less, and then head to a bank to deposit.

I wish it would all sit there and vegetate and triple in a months time...but no...it's going to have to go for bills. Groceries...rent...light...and when my roomie decides that he needs to hit me up for a loan for gas.

Come home...by now it's dinner time...having spent the entire day meeting with people or hanging out at Barne's and Nobles on 34th...so I fix myself some quick spaghetti, avoid my roomie yet again, slink into my office, and then just hunker down on my laptop.

By this time, my inbox has filled up with headhunters desiring me to meet them, or head hunters pissed that I blew them off and didn't meet them, or clients asking for updates on their projects.

I especially like those emails from elated people who say they LOVE their site.

Makes me feel halfway important.

Anyway, I can only put in two hours of usable work, so I blast my Crystal Method to get me in the juicy, bass-line induced state of mine to stare at endless strings of code and figure out the hexidecimal value of London Fog paint.

Lights out. Sleep. Repeat.

Forget You

I haven't written in a while because lately I have been enjoying the freelance lifestyle.

I said goodbye to my desk and cube with no name on it, said good bye to the incapacitated notion that I am only as good as the building I am walking into at 9 AM, said goodbye to the corporate etiquette of flagrant worship of flawed human leaders, said goodbye to the commute.


I'll go back to it eventually. I been interviewing profusely, but I don't rush it.

By the way...new novel coming soon!

So this morning

The following tick me off

- Being required to wear a white shirt and then being told to unjam a copier full of black toner.
- Being asked my opinion on last nights Met's game while I am "watering my garden" in the john.
- Having to do his work on my time, before she gets angry.

I have more to say, but the copier jammed again...and everyone is on lunch.

How the heck

Am I supposed to risk everything on a four year degree when the boss of the department just got let go?

Is that what college guarantees? A bigger lie? A bigger dream?

Scary.

I cannot enter your office without an official escort.
I cannot look you directly in the eye as we ride the elevator together.
I dare not sit at the same table as you in the cafeteria on the 20th floor.
I feel really tense when we pass each other in the hall. You sorta, scrunge up against the wall so I don't brush the fabric of your shirt that probably costs more than the rent I pay.
You would rather talk about me, than to me.

Is this who I will become when I get an office with my name on it?

Survival of the fittest

I find there are four types of co-workers.

1 - The smoocher. The ones who always try to get ahead with the boss by seeming smarter, look more interested in the briefing, and bolster their vocabulary with haughty words just to hide their (at best) averageness and normalcy.

2 - The complainers. They never have a good day, and neither should you. I work next to one of these. Mail run time, and he is griping about the secretary who didn't want to give him eye contact, or the package that is a millimeter too big for his hands to carry. Not to mention if he notices any outright social injustices in the office...he is the first one speaking on it, but the last one taking a stand against it. Ironic, to say the least

3 - The ones that never do any work, but EVERYONE likes. Usually these co-workers are highly flirtatious, jovial, and just all around...nice. Well, they probably aren't nice...but they will make YOU feel like you are extra special...or just plain good. I have yet to see one of these get tossed out.

4 - The quiet killers. These I try to emulate, and to watch out for as well, while they sit their quietly pushing their carts, stocking the shelves, moving the boxes. You know, just by spending time with them, that they actually have a LIFE that is put on pause when they punch in, and resumes when they punch out.

Which one are you?

Dispelling the Myth

It is now my educated opinion that there is no such thing as a perfect boss-co-worker combination. Either you have co-workers who are looking to knife you in the bathroom stall, or you have a boss who is so overtly "goal-oriented", "managerial focused" or basically too messed up in their own personal lives to make a good judgment between chocolate and vanilla, to make your day nothing but eventful and exciting.

Let me explain. The Mary Tyler Moore Show, for those of you who are cultured or old enough to appreciate that show, was produced and written and directed by liars. There is no such thing as a boss that cares about your problems and will listen while your pour your heart out in the need to find peace and solace. You most likely won't be able to have pure, unadulterated friendships with co-workers of the opposite gender without someone feeling weird, pulling away, or talking about you over the coffee machine. Personal problems will never find a home in the workplace. And your clothes will never stay neatly pressed.

Again, a perfect workplace does not exist. Let's get that firmly implanted into your mind. How you handle that truth, is where the real issue lies. You can either a) open up your own business and become the boss that others fear, cajole, coddle, and run from or b) you can continuing trudging along in the daily routine of pursuing the almighty dollar prior to it being forked over to your creditors.

How do I know this?

I, Fabian Basilio, am an office grunt. I get your coffee, I un-jam your copiers, I smile at you while pushing a mail cart at sub-mach speeds just to get to an end of a day that will ultimately lead to another, I laugh with the freight elevator guys, I play handball with the interns. As such, I get to be part of the underground corporate culture. Sure, you see everyone on the train in the morning with suits and ties, but look for the guys and gals who look pensive, but not dressed up. Maybe polos and khakis, real unisex, real bland, but dressed to kill in the corporate world as office grunts.

For in that crowd that spews forth from the bowels of the earth at a quarter to nine at every train stop in Manhattan, there is a chance that I am in one of them, free newspaper in hand, with a blank expression on my face....still standing at the fork in the road of decision, weighing the options of both endeavours.