Payment Due.
I'm riding the Emo Rollercoaster, for sure. Who's got a ticket, too? I've realized that I have a hard time posting to LJ because it really will bring into sharp relief (some chiaroscuro if you will) that I am a nutcase. But you all love me anyway, how cool is that?
Saturday I was having a ball - went to a Moving to Portland party for a dear friend and drank a lot (it was a whiskey bar, so it was expected), and met some of her amazing friends and realized how much I love this wonderful person and I wish she was not moving to Portland. But that's life, and I have to remind myself to be vigilant in friendship-keeping now that my friends have moved from NYC to LA, Portland, Denver, Tampa, etc. Like rats off a sinking ship. Did you hear about those protests in Wall Street? I confess I have been keeping sheltered from the news.
After the party I met no_detective, ahab99 and mistresscurvy at their dinner just in time to scarf some leftovers because I am classy like that. Then we saw the Scissor Sisters at The New Yorker Festival. Being drunk, I did not care that John Seabrook did a poor Q&A. They were amazing enough to overcome this, and then when they started up the music, I was a) Not dancing, b) Not falling in love with them, c) Not singing aloud to every song and d) NOT thinking of the Master. You may also choose e) None of the above, not even close.
Sunday was the Blessing of the Animals at St. John the Divine, where I represent my cat rescue group outside. It's pretty cool. Sunday nights I now have this Storytelling Class. It's kind of scary and awesome. Long story how I got into it, but I'm required to create a personal story that I will tell at a performance later this month - like The Moth, if you know what that is. The plus is that everyone in the class is kind of neat, and very supportive. We're all in it together. Which I did not expect. I expected that the people who already have one-person shows and are wanna-be actors and stuff would be sort of above the fray and difficult to deal with. Not the case. Even the young'uns are very cool, and everyone is obviously VULNERABLE AS HELL. So critique is positive and helpful, and everyone loves everyone else's stuff. Next week, we'll see if they like MY STUFF as I have my initial rehearsal (with two weeks after that to polish it.)
Part of me wants to scream and hide and run away as fast as possible. Part of me wants to rock this class and be amazing. Part of me wants to do it. Part of me does NOT want to do it. Either way I think it is good for me because in addressing my anxiety, it is, let's face it, a great way to analyze how and when the anxiety arrives and what form it takes.
Essentially, late Monday afternoon there was the reprisal. Which is a dramatic way of saying that I am a grand self-saboteur and apparently can't allow myself to have a good time or any successes without making myself pay for it. Then I get anxious and down and spend large swathes of valuable time in bed. It's demoralizing. A definite no-win, or can't-win situation. Did you smile today? You'll pay for that later.
And now there is bad news on the job front - no trip to London and the whole project I've been working on since March is being pushed to next year, when I won't be here (ugh, talk about demoralizing)... and bad news on the home front - people complaining about the cats and trying to make life difficult for us. Oh and also, PAYMENT DELAYED again because someone forgot to cross a T. Rent due. Crying at work. Again! Bad tear ducts, very bad.
Saturday I was having a ball - went to a Moving to Portland party for a dear friend and drank a lot (it was a whiskey bar, so it was expected), and met some of her amazing friends and realized how much I love this wonderful person and I wish she was not moving to Portland. But that's life, and I have to remind myself to be vigilant in friendship-keeping now that my friends have moved from NYC to LA, Portland, Denver, Tampa, etc. Like rats off a sinking ship. Did you hear about those protests in Wall Street? I confess I have been keeping sheltered from the news.
After the party I met no_detective, ahab99 and mistresscurvy at their dinner just in time to scarf some leftovers because I am classy like that. Then we saw the Scissor Sisters at The New Yorker Festival. Being drunk, I did not care that John Seabrook did a poor Q&A. They were amazing enough to overcome this, and then when they started up the music, I was a) Not dancing, b) Not falling in love with them, c) Not singing aloud to every song and d) NOT thinking of the Master. You may also choose e) None of the above, not even close.
Sunday was the Blessing of the Animals at St. John the Divine, where I represent my cat rescue group outside. It's pretty cool. Sunday nights I now have this Storytelling Class. It's kind of scary and awesome. Long story how I got into it, but I'm required to create a personal story that I will tell at a performance later this month - like The Moth, if you know what that is. The plus is that everyone in the class is kind of neat, and very supportive. We're all in it together. Which I did not expect. I expected that the people who already have one-person shows and are wanna-be actors and stuff would be sort of above the fray and difficult to deal with. Not the case. Even the young'uns are very cool, and everyone is obviously VULNERABLE AS HELL. So critique is positive and helpful, and everyone loves everyone else's stuff. Next week, we'll see if they like MY STUFF as I have my initial rehearsal (with two weeks after that to polish it.)
Part of me wants to scream and hide and run away as fast as possible. Part of me wants to rock this class and be amazing. Part of me wants to do it. Part of me does NOT want to do it. Either way I think it is good for me because in addressing my anxiety, it is, let's face it, a great way to analyze how and when the anxiety arrives and what form it takes.
Essentially, late Monday afternoon there was the reprisal. Which is a dramatic way of saying that I am a grand self-saboteur and apparently can't allow myself to have a good time or any successes without making myself pay for it. Then I get anxious and down and spend large swathes of valuable time in bed. It's demoralizing. A definite no-win, or can't-win situation. Did you smile today? You'll pay for that later.
And now there is bad news on the job front - no trip to London and the whole project I've been working on since March is being pushed to next year, when I won't be here (ugh, talk about demoralizing)... and bad news on the home front - people complaining about the cats and trying to make life difficult for us. Oh and also, PAYMENT DELAYED again because someone forgot to cross a T. Rent due. Crying at work. Again! Bad tear ducts, very bad.