Springtime for Danzorz

It's tough to know what to write about. Lot's of things go on in my life, and it's hard to know which are actually relevant. I guess I'll start with comedy:
I got into the Festival. That's actually really important news, and I'm super psyched. But also at the same time, it freaks me out badly. I'll be producing a show (self producing is still technically producing), which I've never done before. I still have to rent (they called renting "hiring" here. It's fucking goofy) a venue, come up with a title, verify visa details, and take a set of photos for the show's theme within the next 3 weeks. Oh, and beyond that, I need to write about another 15 minutes. I'm not so much worried about the comedy; I know it's mostly all there, and what isn't will come within the next 5 months. I still don't have a title yet. I've been considering something dumb like "Dan Juola Conquers Melbourne" and then take photos of me pretending to take over places American military style with lot's of spectators ridiculing. But I'm also considering being more genuine, like "Becoming Melbourne" and have a description of everything that I've been through to get to where I am, and how I feel like a Melbournian. It's less gimmicky, and there's more honesty in that title. The way I've been organizing the show is by just putting together all the bits I've been working on written on post it notes, and arranged on my wall. I've attached a picture of the process, which is neato torpedo!

Being here is certainly weird. I knew I wanted to move, but I didn't know if it was going to be permanent. Now here I am with inroads, and friends. I very much miss Minneapolis, but Melbourne has become to feel like home. I'm sure I'd leave if I had the option to stay. Melbourne is definitely will always be a home away from home now. I can't imagine this being my last Melbourne Festival.

I'm not looking forward to the extreme heat that's coming. Spring has brought variable weather, which I'm fine with. Melbournians winge quite often. I don't worry too much about it. I went to the beach yesterday. City beaches tend to suck, and while they're better than any of the oceanic beaches of Minneapolis ("Oh I see what you did there"), they still kinda suck. I'm going to have to get a job soon in order to do the festival, but I really want to travel. I may have to postpone my trips around the country due to cash. Ideally, I could get a halfway decent bar job during the day that paid under the table, but that's probably too much to ask for. Realistically, I'll just go to Melbourne Central and hand out my resume to everywhere I would even remotely consider working. I think if I work until January or February and I can get by. As long as I can get about a grand a month I can live off what I've got. I know I'll be getting tax and super annuation (mandatory retirement fund, paid by employers), so that will set me up for when I get back to the States.

I think I should include more than just scratch the surface of my life bullshit in this post. Part of why I don't write often is that I know it's just "these are random events in my life blah blah blah" that I find utterly dry and unuseful, which is apparently not a word. This sabbatical has entailed a lot of soul searching that I did not fully expect. Well, it's not that I didn't expect it, it's that it manifests in ways that are unexpected. On election day a couple of months back, I had a hard night of drinking, took a cab home, passed out, and woke up to see that I'd thrown up during the night, but hadn't woken up (gross). The first thought I had was christ that's gross I need to clean that up. But as I got to thinking about it, the more disturbed I became. That's the kind of thing that people die from. Hell, I've know people who've died that way. I could have died. While I haven't stopped drinking, it's definitely been a wake up call (which is ironic, because I didn't wake up to throw up (gross)). I mean, I've already been concerned with mortality lately, and that kind of event stares you right in your fucking face. The invincibility was a myth.

Something tells me that that last paragraph contains a very funny, very dark joke.

Why Melbourne

I just realized I hadn't yet addressed this question. It struck me as odd. I've explained why many times to many people, and it seems like something I should have addressed here long ago. My stint in Melbourne is reaching the two month mark. It's time.

Two events led me onto the path that I'm on now. The first is the end of an era, and the second is the beginning of a new one.

On a Tuesday in late June of last year, my life changed abruptly. I had been dating Alissa for over 8 years, and we'd lived together for more than 3. There were definite signs that I should have seen that meant she was drifting away, but I didn't. I understand now why she left, but at the time I was thunderstruck. Though the week of extreme ju-wallowing filled with marathons Mad Men and True Blood (classy, I know) and a lot less ice cream as tv and movies led me to believe, ended shortly after and I'm still living in the shadow of that relationship, following me even here (I may touch on that topic at a later date, or I might just tell you to mind your own business, jerk). The most important reason I needed to remove myself from the situation was because Alissa wouldn't. Despite agreeing to my plea to leave for a while, she went to a party the following weekend, and started dating another comic immediately and generally kept coming out to comedy events (shows, the plethora of parties that happen when you live a rock and roll lifestyle yet somehow involves neither rock nor roll, etc). I don't want to come across as petty (despite being incredibly petty), so I won't address my feelings regarding her actions, but I since she wouldn't leave, I knew that I had to. As early as August I knew it I had to go. I also don't want to come across as simply running away from my problems (I probably am (Ok, I totally am), but I don't want you to think that's my sole factor). 8 years attached to another person, considering someone else before making life decisions, colors the way you think about making seismic changes. And at 27 years old, I knew my opportunities to make drastic moves were diminishing.

Immediately after that traumatic event in June, I applied and was hired for my first paid job at a political organization. It was a temporary position at America Votes working with voter data. I really loved that boring work. It both helped me determine a timeline and provided the financial means for me to make my move. The position came with an end date of November 30th. Along with the constraints listed in the last paragraph, the planned termination helped me determine my next actions. The two options real options I had been considering in August had been Austin, TX and Helsinki, Finland. The two had very different purposes: Austin is known as a fantastic stand up scene, and Finland is a far off land I've always wanted to see. Neither, though, fit both of my criteria for what I wanted. Austin felt too close to home, and Finland speaks Finnish, precluding stand up for all but ex-pats, which, totally no thanks. London came to mind when I thought of places that fit both of my needs, but it felt a bit obvious, and I knew it was expensive. The real breakthrough came when late at night I was watching stand up videos on youtube. I was watching Hannibal Burress videos, and one of the suggestion videos was of a set at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. Obviously I'm not a headlining comic who could just do the festival, but there's no way a festival can happen if there's not a local appetite for comedy. Figuring that the festival had to be supported by some kind of scene, I instantly made my decision. While I didn't tell anyone for more than a month, the decision was firmly made, and I began planning for it. I researched my best options, including whether I could even move to Australia. After finding the Work-Holiday visa, I thanked my lucky stars that events had played out the way they had and not later in life, because the visa's requirements preclude anyone over the age of 30. 27 isn't skin of your teeth close, but it's not far off either. By mid December, I'd purchased and received my visa, and I would be living in Australia for a year.

I'm not sure it was the best decision of my life (Taco Bell, remember), but if it's not it's damn close.