Door & More

Last night David and a friend of his went to a presentation at the Museum of Television History on a video game, which (from what I understood, because I only got to this event five minutes before it ended) is a simulation exercise in how to solve political, ethnic, etc. conflicts in a non-violent manner. The event was held in a hidden-away conference room just next to the public parts of the museum and it was harder to get into it than into the Hungarian Parliament. Perhaps sixteen people were there, but (strangely enough) I happened to know one of them. Of course, it's not that strange that he would be there because the guy work in the Human Rights Defenders Program of HRF (where I used to intern) and this video game is aimed (in addition American high school students) at freedom fighters and "activists" around the world. (I wonder, of course, how someone in Darfur for example would be helped by logging on to a simulation of non-violent conflict resolution right after she narrowly escaped being raped or having his head chopped off by a couple of savages...I might be too cynical though.)

The HRF guy asked me what I was doing and whether I was missing HRF. My answer (NO) came a little too quickly. I also felt compelled to add that the reason I was NOT missing it despite my long hours, etc, was that my former boss was so incompetent. The moment I said it, I regretted it, especially because I could see that it made him slightly uncomfortable (though he essentially agreed with me).

The strange thing is that it was true. I am not missing that place at all. In fact, the longer I am in my current world, the more I despize and resent them. I can only remember the bad things: how they are so hypocritical and up their own butts; how they are rude and incompetent as far as handling personnel issues goes; and how behind the holier-than-though attitude there is all this petty political maneuvering going on (not to mention, in the case of most women there, a rich lawyer or banker husband who provides nicely for Park Slope life and private school for the kids). I decided not to do any (more) pro bono for them and work for Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts instead. I never read their emails and I don't "take action" or even consider ever giving them a penny of my hard-earned money. But in my more sober moments, I know that this is not all true, or even if it is true to a certain extent it is not the whole truth. I am painfully aware that I need to believe all this because it makes it so much easier not to despize what I am in right now. If I can convince myself that not only is the grass not greener, but that there no grass at all on that much talked about other side, then I will feel more content or, at least, less frustrated about what I do, even if I am being told not to shut doors and have to be here until 10-11 pm at night at least three nights a week.