Paul Got Blog’d

I live in Los Angeles, home to Hollywood, the so-called entertainment capital of the world. So of course I’ve had my share of encounters with TV and movie stars. My most memorable being when I was in the same theater watching The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course with Adam Sandler, who signed my ticket stub after the show. But to those who have never had the opportunity, I can assure you that it most often will lead to disappointment because your celebrity is never what you imagine them to be. That is because that’s just who they are. A celebrity. And when you get down to it, as my old roommate liked to put it, “they just peoples”.

What I just can’t stand is the way people obsess over these stars, these “peoples”. How we buy into the gossip and tabloid magazines. How these ridiculous stories actually come up in day-to-day conversation! As if it was of any importance to our lives! I don’t think many realize what celebrities really amount to in the world today. Aside from being their own persons, celebrities are nothing more than just another product for us to consume. Except this product isn’t just dish detergent, fashionable clothes, or an energy drink. It’s a living, breathing human being. What’s probably most incredible is the ability a celebrity has to be a human ad-machine, a biological billboard if you will. Movie studios and sports teams package your celebrity for optimal likeability and then use them for even more product endorsements. The very lives of celebrities are also up for generating cash as there is an entire industry developed for the chronicling of their every move.

Sure, I guess the talent these stars possess may justify this sort of treatment, but then again it’s all just relative. If we really paid every worker in the world by their real contribution to society, things would be a lot different. But that’s just not how things play out. We are all foolish enough to close down Downtown streets for a L.A.-welcome for the Beckhams and we all actually have, at one time or another, given some sort of undeserved attention to Paris Hilton, the Michael Jackson trial, or the death of Anna Nicole Smith. It’s a shame that we let ourselves be pummeled with trash every day by today’s media. But it makes money and people just can’t seem to stop giving in.

I believe it’s the fascination with celebrity status that makes us all weak. We are disillusioned by those who package these celebrities to believe that these “peoples” are more than what we can ever become, which is completely false. We want to know if celebrities are anything like us normal people. That’s why we want to watch their reality shows on finding “love” and live out their simple lives. But the truth is when a lot of us finally meet a TV/movie/music/athletic star in person we get disappointed because we realize that we have been played. They are nothing like they are in the entertainment world. We take all this time and effort to become attached to a human product that we idolize and become best friends with over the years, and then all of a sudden they have no idea who you are because they’re on a tight schedule and need to go make another commercial or movie or album or practice session.

And it’s sad, I know. Because even with this entire rant and break down of the human condition, how can you imagine a world without entertainment? Why else would we go out and pay $11.50 for a movie, $14.95 for a CD, $0.99 for an iTunes download, $150.00 for basketball tickets, or $1,300.00 for a brand new HD-TV? It’s to escape from reality they say (whoever they are). But if we try to escape so much for so long, we may never really even know the place we are all trying to get out of. So take a step back. Look out for what you might be missing. Stop watching E!, VH1, MTV, and all those celebrity news shows. Start enjoying your own life instead of living it out through someone else’s. Your life is only crappy as you make it to be.

In all of this though, I can’t help but feel sorry for these stars that are used every day and paid millions upon millions of dollars in exchange for their life. It sounds weird saying it, because there are people out there whose lives have been exchanged for mere pennies, if anything at all, but celebrities are pretty much forced to live out a life that no human was really meant to live. And then we all try to imitate this lifestyle that is so appealing to us. That’s why there’s so much depression and self-consciousness in our lives as well as celebrity lives. It’s all too much. It’s unfulfilling, this rockstar life. We need to put this all to a stop.

Because when you get down to it, we’re all just peoples.

It’s final–I’m going to be transferring to USC and won’t be coming back to Union next fall. I still can’t believe that’s what’s going to happen. I stop and think, “Did I really do all of this?” Sometimes I think that some invisible-spiritual-ghostly version of me was doing all the work behind the transfer applications, as if it was routine. I just went about the entire school year revising my application essay or sending grades or doing financial aid work; all while going through the motions of school work and trying my best to keep that impressive GPA. I just shake my head now ’cause I really question if it’s all going to be worth it. Sure, it’ll be more “comfortable” being back home, but I’ve just started to feel comfortable here at Union. And I’m gonna be living back home for the rest of my life. Should I really have ended my life out of the comfort zone so prematurely?

I want to tell you about my day. I also feel like writing.

I wanted to play poker, or just do something after I got out of the shower. I called Dan to see if they were going to play cards anytime soon, but he said he’d call me back when he’s done showering as well. (It’s been a humid day, folks. Everyone’s showering.) So I wait around in my room in my boxers, trying to see if I can trick myself into getting some homework done. But no, I want to scour through popurls.com for interesting articles and check my e-mail. Sooner or later, I find myself dressed, on my bed, and watching Gladiator. Commodus is such a tool–but I digress. As I drift in and out of sleep and wake up to different parts of the movie, I hear a knock on the door and to my surprise, Vincent’s there saying, “Let’s go play POKER, man!” So I take my usual bag of “just-in-case” items (an umbrella, sweater, and my glasses, if you really wanted to know) and also the two boxes of frozen DiGiorno Four Cheese Rising Crust pizza that belonged to Joe and has been stuck in Vincent’s fridge for the past couple of weeks. I wanted those out of there.

Walking out of the dorm Vincent says, “Yo, man, you hungry? Y’wanna order Homestyle?” To which I reply, “Yeah, sure man, let’s do it.” So now I got poker, pizza, and wings on my mind. It’s gonna be a good night.

Riding up on the elevator Vincent hits the button for the 2nd floor. “No, it’s the 7th floor, man.” “Oh, right.” He hits the 7th floor button, but as soon as we reached the 2nd floor, I could already hear the sound of people, a lot of people, doing something. As the doors opened up I didn’t even think about who was there; maybe it’s just a floor program. But I recognized a few people and they sure as hell recognized us in the elevator. And then I knew. Oh man. I really couldn’t believe it. My friends got together and planned some sort of surprise send-off party. I make some lame joke, “Oh, well, we were actually going to the 7th floor, so I’ll see you guys later.” Yeah, yeah, now get in there.

I’ve already told everyone, “Thank you so much,” but even saying it then, that many times, didn’t seem enough. You guys really went beyond what I would have ever expected, that is if I had even expected anything at all. And really, thank you, ALL of you. It’s the friends I’ve made and all of the great times I had that are genuinely the only things that I will ever miss at Union. Probably the most regret will come from losing the chance to make more good times. I’m really going to miss all of you. You’ve all been able to be a part of making this L.A.-boy cope with his homesickness and self-pity, and was able to make life at Union so much more bearable. I love you, guys, and I’m not drunk so I mean it.

When I said that I’d keep in touch, I really meant it. But if it so happens that our connection does fade, know that it’s never an awkward moment to say Hi to an old friend. I will come to your graduation. You guys better come to mine :D. New York and California aren’t as far as you’d think. Believe me, I’d know. If any of you do happen to drop by in my area, it’d break my heart if you didn’t gimme a call. We can always “do lunch” and anyone’s more than welcome at my place.

This isn’t goodbye. Like you guys said, it’s more of a “see you later”.

So I’ll see you later.

So for those of you just tuning in, I’ve been trying to transfer out of my current school, Union College, to somewhere back closer home in Los Angeles ever since my freshman year. It just hasn’t been what I expected college to be, which I’m fine with, but I can’t say I’ve been completely happy with spending my youthful days living on campus 24/7 at a tiny liberal arts college studying how to engineer electricity. And the snow–don’t get me started.

So now that my second year’s coming to an end, I finally have what I’ve always wanted. Out of what I completely believe is sheer luck, USC has picked me “as a result of [my] outstanding achievements both in and out of the classroom”. Woo-hoo, right? I dunno. It’s been a real pain in the ass these past couple of weeks. It’d be great to go back home, but I’ve actually been able to find a pretty nice niche here at Union. It’s just really sad to think that after all that I’ve been able to push through, it kind of feels like I’m just giving up on all the work I’ve done.

I whole-heartedly will never regret my coming to Union. I didn’t know it then, but I needed to be uprooted from home. I would have never left LA by my own choice. I love the city too much. But I’m glad I did get sent out. It’s cliche, but I was able to learn a lot about myself. Those transcontinental plane rides and spending that night at O’Hare has taught me a lot about traveling. Like learning how to turn an uncomfortable terminal bench into an even more uncomfortable piece of furniture for sleeping. I’ve also learned that I just can’t get along with everybody in the world all the time. I can also be quite an asshole if I really wanted to be, which I gotta say is never one of my proudest moments. For that matter, I learned that I could probably do just about anything if I really wanted to, which is a liberating revelation. I learned that a long distance relationship is definitely not for the weak-hearted, ’cause believe me, it will tear you a new one. And man, I’m a real softie when it comes to my girl. The guys who live beyond my thin walls probably think I’m a pussy. Whatever.

When I think about it, I guess I’ve really been able to find my potential here at Union. See what I’m made of. It’s the people. I’ve been able to find myself in the people I identified with, or whatever. And for that I will be forever grateful. I could have been anywhere else during these past two years, physically or mentally, but I was rejected from a bulk of my college applications in my senior year in high school for a reason.

Not to say though that Union’s been all peaches and cream. (Haha where’d that come from). Which is why I’m transferring for sure. I think. I dunno. I don’t think I’ll ever want to make up my mind. I’m just gonna let it happen, like I’ve always done.

Or at least that’s what I’d like to think.

Oh my God. I’ve officially joined the world of bloggers; the “Blogosphere” if you will. Blogtastic.

It’s kind of weird. I’ve always thought that having a blog would only fuel my screaming inner ego, so I always tried to stay away from it. But now that I haven’t really written anything except lab reports for a year, my left brain’s really starting to itch. Or is it the right brain? Let me Google it. Ah-ha, it’s the left. Haha that was fun. See how I just wrote as if I was actually having a conversation with you? And then I left a little link so you’d feel like you were interacting. Oh, this is gonna to be fun.

Hmm, I’m not really satisfied with this inaugural entry for Paul Got Blog’d. Perhaps it’ll take some time before I really get into the blogging habit. Like a snowball effect, I’m sure it’ll get there.

Here’s to the beginning of further procrastination and the celebration of self-importance.