Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Holy Mood Swings, Batman!

I’d like to start this one off by apologizing to the people that see me on a regular basis; my mom, co-workers, any sort of ice cream vendors, my dog…all y’all. I’ve been in kind of a crazy mood lately! And I do that thing, and ladies - you know you’re guilty of it too - where you find yourself crying for no reason, getting crazy road rage and eating obsessively, and you automatically blame it all on that little monthly “visitor” of our’s…I mean, period. (Why do I feel like adulthood means getting rid of fun euphemisms from my vocab?) That’s right. I have been blindly accusing my ovaries of being the basis of all my bad moods lately…until I realized, I am probably not PMSing for 3 weeks out of the month (or I am, and it’s time to consult a doctor…:S) but instead maybe, just maybe, all these cray-cray emotions are flying out of nowhere because I haven’t had an artistic outlet through which I can more usefully direct them. Simply put, I wasn’t acting enough! I figured this out once I finished that casting director workshop, and left the studio higher than a kite - and not just because of the second hand fumes you usually inhale in East Van. I was so elated to get to put my all of my energy into a scene and watching other people do the same thing, so I signed up for some more classes for this coming weekend! Plus I have this wonderful agent who is getting me out to lots of auditions - like seriously, they just keep coming! My day job, or as I like to call it, my Interim Income Generator…or my McJob*, is taking getting a little neglected by me lately. The moral of the story is, if you see me getting moody, on the verge of a meltdown or pulling my hair out…don’t throw chocolate in my direction. Seriously. I’m really trying to diet, and that would just make things a lot worse! Instead, give me a script! Carefully slide a silver platter under my door with a highlighter and some sides. I’ll be switching to my ‘upbeat’ playlist on my iPod, and the cartoon birds who are usually responsible for braiding my hair in the morning will return to my window sill, chirping gayly. *This one is actually not a Grey’s Anatomy reference. It’s from one of my favourite books, “Generation X”, by a local author my brother got me into - Douglas Coupland. Read it. More than once. Seriously.