Safety Pins and Mismatched Socks

I had a meeting today with Cathy. Cathy works for an advertising agency in Fullerton. Cathy thinks I'm a videographer and audio technician, because I told her I was one. This week was about putting up a false front. "Fake it 'till you make it," as Sean would say. Or, "Act as if," As Sean's brother Mike would say. 

Step one: pretend you've got your shit together.

Step two: get your shit together.

My shit, this morning, was held together loosely, if at all. I sat in the meeting room of DSYL Advertising, intimidated by the ornately carved Buddha in the corner, and giant print on the far wall displaying a quote by T.S. Eliot.

I am one of the lesser known Elliotts. There's T.S. Eliot, then Pete's Dragon, followed by that kid from E.T., then my father, my uncle, my older brother, my cousins, and me. I'm sure there are some others that fit in between, but I'm definitely near the bottom at this point. I hear there's a writer named Stephen Elliott in San Francisco. He writes erotic political fiction. I hope Cathy hasn't heard of him. I might not be erotic enough for her.

I'm here because of my false front. I know I don't belong. I made up a business, and printed up fake business cards with materials I bought at office max. I drew a little picture of a polar bear leaning up against a brick wall, and put it on there. I stayed up until three AM to do that. Loosely held together. I wondered if Cathy would notice that all my clothes were from the Goodwill. Or that one of my socks was black and the other white. I prayed against the cuff of my pants riding up at all to reveal my secrets. My false front. I've always been somewhere between black and white. D id anyone know that my sweater was too big, and that I had hemmed it with safety pins last night? Professionals don't do that. Professionals spend more than 5 dollars on a sweater. Professionals buy sweaters that fit them.

I don't belong here and I know it. I'm living on pins and mismatched socks. It's like the prayer I said this morning. If I succeed, it is because God has blessed me to go forward. If I fail, it is because he has cursed me in that direction, and wants me to go somewhere else. I'm nothing but a false front, but today was bigger than me, today was about someone who knew me to be false from the start, and loved me into legitimacy. To this great love that surpasses all hate, that gives peace that surpasses all understanding, I am indebted. I owe it my life, and even that is insufficient, but we'll start there. We'll see if art can be made from my loosely held together shit.

You know me better than I know myself. To know you is all I want.

"For I know the plans I have made for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future."

-I am ashamed for all the times I doubt his ability to provide for me.