On Pyromania

If you don't know/haven't seen it, it's about blowing up a bridge.
Also, it's a fantastic film.

I have a habit. A problematic habit that I only realized I have the other day in the shower when I was using my apricot face scrub on my legs because I can never get my shit together enough to remember to moisturize.

I realized, as I was considering the pictures of a baby who is the progeny of a friend from college, that I have only really retained contact with a few of the people with whom I attended college. And in fact, I completely cut ties with many of them, decisions to sever connections borne out of fits of angst or annoyance.

I don't just burn bridges, I blow them right the fuck up. And I need to stop.

Perhaps it's my overwhelming frustration with the kind sycophantic behavior which one is expected to perform during "networking" that prevents my super ego from relinquishing the idea that once I've moved on from a place, I'm done with it. I am not great at maintaining friendships over time and distance. I'm not sure why, exactly, especially with all our social media available that allows us to discover every whim and bowel movement that Sally in Shanghai has, but I tend to let relationships ebb and flow and - more often than I should - entirely dissipate. It's nothing intentional, but perhaps a symptom of introverted laziness, or shyness, or fear.

Here and there I have a smattering of friendships retained from previous employers, but never with supervisors or the so-called movers-and-shakers who could help retrain my career on the right path. I keep close with my peers, my teachers - the friends who show me something new about life every time I see them or speak to them - and my fellow proletariat worker bees.

The problem is that I see no intrinsic value in superficial relationships designed solely for my professional advancement. And even while I can type those words, I am extremely aware of the practical benefits of exactly those same relationships. But I have never been able to reconcile the two.

Recently, I applied for a job at a marketing company that seemed like a fantastic place to work. I was rejected form the initial position, but the CEO liked me so much, he called me in to interview for another position later on. I was flattered, extremely excited, and dare I say even optimistic when I interview for the social media manager position. I took a risk, then, and sent them to this blog. I also know that this blog is probably why I didn't get hired, but it was worth the gamble if it helped me obtain the position. Truthfully, I was also aware that my second go-round with the company was ultimately my last opportunity with them, job or no job. And the rejection hurt, even though I know I shot myself in the foot on this one. Regardless, I burned that bridge before it was even completed. Perhaps on some level, I knew I wasn't right for that company, or perhaps my irreverence toward authority got the best of me and my continual thumbing-of-nose at any and all structures of power overtook the practicality of finding a job that doesn't make me feel like I'm slowly being lobotomized.

I know I'm not the only one who does this. Adam told me once of his father's "Jerry Maguire moment" at a job; he wrote a scathing "manifesto" about the company he worked for and quit, presumably going out in a spectacular ball of flame as I am wont to do. I quit my last career-oriented job without notice, without any warning, and when I spoke to the HR manager later that day, I read her the riot act. She was a nice woman, well-meaning and entirely powerless. I only speak to a handful of people I worked with there, and even them, am cautious and guarded and can feel those friendships slipping away.

There's a resistance in me to play the game, as I've said before, but this is something much worse. I look behind me and see islands where there should be contiguous land masses, shadows where there should be friends and acquaintances. Irreverence only works if you can get paid to do so.

So, as the cliché goes, may the bridges I burn light my way... and hopefully one of those burning timbers will smack me upside the head the next time I'm tempted to strap dynamite to an abutment.