kaet@rachacha.com
August 29, 2007

People talk to me about their problems all the time. It's true, it's part of my job as a barista when customers come in with woes because I'm the daytime bartender. With others, with strangers, with people I barely know when I'm not at work, it's different and I don't like it. Maybe I enable it; maybe I give the look of someone who wants to listen to people's problems. After all, my parents are therapists; it's only natural for me to be the mom with an ear to lend other people. Lately, I've turned it off to some people - people who's problems are on repeat, people who won't do anything to fix what they seek solace in me for. Comedians do this especially with me (on several occasions). It's irritating because as much as I understand what they do, I want to remain naive to the demons inside.

"I hear Adam's life is in shambles," the stranger from California says to the Russian Jew, Wednesday night. The Russian Jew responds, "Yeah, pretty much." That was the only sound byte I heard as I borrowed matches from the latter. And oh what a sound byte I did not intend to hear. I knew that Adam was full of issues, we all are, but he holds the reputation as the resident alcoholic among other things. I thought he was perfect, as perfect as a man could be for someone as unique as I am. "Love" holds no definition or concrete reasoning of why it exists. But it's not love and he doesn't talk to me, nor do I talk to him. We did, once, at one point. He smelled good above his upper lip, was interesting and although we no longer speak, I'll always find him to be one of the most attractive men I've ever met. It's not love, I know this, and I'm over him but I feel sad for Adam if his life really is in shambles because he's a good person.

I'm surprisingly happy in my life, this worries me because I understand that life is a roller coaster, full of ups and downs, and this up will not last forever. Within this person, I guess lies a part of me that says to people, "vent on me, please, just do it, you'll feel better." I don't know if it makes me a good person in their eyes, or just a really good soundboard. But like I said, I only, now, do it for so many people. I spent a good two hours talking to a friend of mine about his recent breakup. I wasn't supposed to be at that bar, I was trying to get rid of some writer's block and was in a bad mood... I just ended up there. He talked about the sadness and emptiness he felt and somehow the conversation turned to the craft of comedy and how he disagreed with the presence and success of viral video comedians. I will not go further with what was said or specifics but the feeling was that anyone can make a video and anyone can get famous these days without having to serve their time. He felt like that maybe it was the road he should go down because it was easy.

I agreed with my friend over the way he felt about the way comedy was pretty much headed but told him that he shouldn't take the easy route. I felt the same way about bloggers and the increase in the professional publication of their works due to the screwed up nature that is a blogger. Bloggers are taken much more seriously than the common writer. I told my friend, John, about the former's woes about his life and his career, and John thought I should blog about it. John thinks I should be a comedy blogger, much like The Apiary or Brooklyn Vegan's Klaus Kinski. And as much as I've been toying with it for the last few months, I feel like I wouldn't know what to talk about... how much I hate comedians? What one groupie said to another: "I just want to get drunk and take off my top." How I hated that girl who put her hand on my shoulder, while I was writing this column and tried to get me to come to her show, like we were buddies? I really wouldn't have anything positive to say if I were a blogger, I'm no longer wide eyed and happy with comedy and feel cynical toward the whole process, as an audience member. It would be the easy road to go down, but would it be worth it?

Like my friend, I'd be unhappy and right now, I'm happy. I don't believe in selling out, I don't believe and never have believed in taking the easy road. Why else would I be living in an apartment in the north part of Washington Heights with two girls in a one bedroom trying to be something in New York City. It's not easy but I'm happy. There's something to be said about the challenge of success and the eventual happiness you feel in accomplishment. How can one look themselves in the mirror knowing that their blogging, their comedy viral videos or their crappy emo music are putting valid people with actual skills and time on their side in the corner? Personally, I blame the hipsters. I hate listening to people's problems sometimes but sometimes it can help you evaluate the decisions you are trying to make in your own life. Thanks for listening.