Decimation of Dreams

Plenty of so-called linguistic purists claim that most people use the word decimate incorrectly. Most people know the word to mean "destroying a large percentage of" something, while the purists claim that it actually means to "destroy or kill exactly one tenth of" something/a group of people. There is actually much debate over the oldest or "truest" meaning of the word.



Today I can't decide if I'm referring to the "killing 1/10 of" meaning of the the word or the "absolutely obliterated" definition. One of my dreams has been killed. Now that I've had a couple of days to reflect upon this loss, I'm trying to move past the rejection and focus on move forward. All the little rejections I've experienced since moving here keep piling up and I continue to be filled with doubt regarding almost every decision I've ever made and continue to not feel like I belong anywhere. I know rejection is just a part of the entertainment industry. I knew it when I got my first rejection at age 12 after auditioning for the school play, and yet I keep jumping back in like a crazy person for 18 years, expecting the rejection to hurt less. It doesn't.

Alright, enough mystery. Remember when I got to audition for something that I (and everyone who knew me) knew I was perfect for? It was an audition for a little YouTube channel called SourceFed (maybe you've heard of it.) Well, I suspected for most of the time since that audition that I did not actually get cast, since as the days ticked by, I failed to hear anything from them/on the channel. But until I got an answer one way or the other, I stilled held out a sliver of hope. Or at least I thought it was just a sliver. SourceFedNerd officially introduced their new female host this last week. Guess what? It wasn't me.

I was already having a bad day at work when I found out. I was on my lunch break and pissed off about various bullshity things and thought watching some YouTube on my phone would make me feel better. It did not. Already in a fairly high-strung state, after it dawned on me that not only was this little dream of working on SF dead, but that I had met the girl who got the job at my audition day. As soon as I met her, I knew she was going to give me a run for my money. She just "looked" right. The bright side of this situation is that she is a completely different type than I am. Had they cast another tall blonde girl with glasses, I probably would have jumped out a window.  
But at the time I found out it wasn't me, all rationale kind of just flushed out of my body. And I cried. I put my head down on the conference room table and cried. 
The ugly cry, you guys. 
It was a bad day. 

I knew I needed a couple of days reflection before trying to write about this because the sting is still a little bit there. Otherwise had I wrote what I was actually feeling right after, you all probably would have put me on suicide watch. I think the worst part about that day was I had to take the bus home from work and Boyfriend didn't get home until late so I didn't have him home to hug me. Also, we were out of beer.  It was truly a horrific day.

Well, this post has gone on long enough. My dreams are still alive, they just get tweaked more often than I generally prefer. It's the life I've chosen for myself, I suppose. I have other blogs I read that help me keep some perspective and boost my morale. I have Boyfriend. I have Leeloo. I'm ok. Dream on you crazy dreamers!


"Having a dream isn't stupid, Norm. It's not having a dream that's stupid."
                                                                                      -Cliff Clavin, Cheers


"So dare to dream. Dream your wildest dreams. You can climb the highest mountain. You can drown in a teacup, if you find a big enough teacup. And if somebody tells you that you can't do something, you say, 'Yes, I can. 'Cause I'm doing it right now!'"
                                                                                       -Barry, Dinner For Schmucks