Regrets? I've had a few...

What follows is a litany of paths I've chosen to make other people feel good.

Contrary to popular belief I'm actually a nice person. I know, it's hard to believe with all my bitching and shit on this blog. But, I am. I worry (to a fault) about other people. Their feelings, their well-being, their... at the expense of my own well-being. It's a trait given to me by my mother. Or, by taking care of my mother. Or, something.

Example #1:

I heard about that job. The one a while back, before moving to Dublin. I could have called in a favor or two. Instead, I chose to help out a friend. That friend maintains that I would have never gotten that job. This might be true. It might not. I might have been shortlisted after she was fired (which is apparently what happened). Who knows? Well, actually, that's the point, no one knows, because I didn't even try. Chances are, things wouldn't have gone my way. But instead of sitting here with regret, I'd at least know, if I'd tried.

Example #2:

This is a weird one, and one I just found out about from an old acquaintance-slash-new friend. Okay, so, uh I was bidding on a lunch with the writers from some TV shows at a charity event/fan party. I outbid the person I was bidding against and seemed poised to win the lunch. This would be a great coup, I thought, because I was being told by others that I needed to meet some people in the business, and what better way to network than to have lunch with these folks?

So, I bid the extent of our credit limit. Mr. Boom was a-okay with this, as he knew it was important. The girl I was bidding against checked the auction list, and saw that she'd been outbid. She began to cry. I overheard her talking to her friend, she was seriously upset. So, I struck up a conversation. Apparently she was from out of town, and had flown in special to bid on this event.

Did I mention that the amount I bid was the exact amount we had left in credit? Did I mention that the hubby and I were unemployed? Did I mention the fact that without credit, we'd be broke -- like, no groceries?

It was a no-brainer to withdraw my bid. Besides, the hubby mentioned that maybe I should meet the writers under my own steam, and not as a fan -- maybe I'd be taken a bit more seriously that way. I somewhat concurred. So, I asked the girl how much she could afford to bid, she told me, and I said if she bid that much, I'd withdraw my bid. And, I did. And, for that evening, I felt good about it, I'd garnered some money for charity and done something nice for this girl, and hey! Hubby and me? We'd be fed for the next two months -- without having to do the embarrasing hands-out-to-parents. All good things. Right?

I woke up the next morning with a pit in my stomach. I'd made the wrong decision. I should have been going out to lunch with the writers to network. Who cares if I was a fan, I could charm them into realizing that I wasn't an uberfan/obsessive fan/stalker fan. That I just loved their show(s) and needed some guidance. That I wouldn't ask them to read me or get me a job. Just, you know.

Fast forward about five years. My old acquaintance-slash-new friend knows about all of the above. She knows because she knows one of the writers of the show(s). And she's heard horror stories of the girl who "outbid" me. You know how I said I wasn't an uberfan/obsessive fan/stalker fan? Uh, well, turns out that girl is. It also turns out that she's not from out of town. That that whole show (the crying, etc) was to get me to lower my bid. Which just screams "Kuhrazy" to me.

Would life have been better if I hadn't let her outbid me? Would I be friends with all the people I could have gone to lunch with? I'm friends with some of them now, so things have worked out well. But, really who knows?

Example #3:

I regret the whole Disney thing. It weighs on me. It makes me doubt that I'll ever have a career. Oh sure, I might, and that will be grand. But this is my depressing post about regrets. Actually, this one isn't something I did for someone else. But, of all my regrets, this is my biggest. It's that one small moment that could have changed everything -- if I'd just THOUGHT. But I didn't.

So, we come to the resolution. No regrets. I just can't stand living like this anymore. Wondering what might have been if I'd only looked out for number one. So, here it is:

No more Mister Nice BooM. I'm sick of being nice. I'm sick of putting things out into the universe and not getting anything back (though the no cancer thing was really really really good -- so, you know, that's a point to Karma). I've already got wheels in motion. I've already done some things that are somewhat integrity-challenged. And, I'm not looking back. I'm going to start calling in some serious fucking markers. Hell, at one point I even thought about blackmailing my way onto staff. Uh, but I won't be doing that, because there is a point that is actually too far.

But, everything else? That bullshit about not asking my friends to read me? Out the window. I told my agent last year that he was not to contact any of my friends (he went against that with one of my friends -- but she was cool about it and said that's what he should be doing). This year, watch out. I'm telling him no holds barred -- contact anyone and everyone. I really really really really need to get on staff. And, here's why:

My resolution is nice and all, but the hubby's is way better. His is: to not be as stressed. The major component in that "not being stressed" thing? His job. So, yesterday, he quit. We're moving back to LA in Feb (with a quick detour to NY to see my dad get his award!).

Oh. And bitches? I'm writing. A lot. I'll be armed and ready for staffing. So, you know, get yer armor on.

Also: Happy New Year everyone! May you all be as determined as me, and if we're up for the same job? May I get it.

Booyah.