This is my passion
When it's six o'clock in the morning, and I step outside to watch the sun rise, a cool breeze dancing across my exhausted skin after wrapping on a 16 hour night of shooting it is then when I realize: this is who I am, this is what I do, this is what makes me happy. No matter what other frustrating shenanigans are going on behind the scenes. No matter what other fears or anxieties I have about the rest of my life. This is it. My calling. The true love of my life.
This film has reignited my fire...and has made me realize what a fucking workaholic I can be. Today is the first in weeks when I've had nothing to do, and I'm all twitchy. Gone are the days when spending a day at home in my pa-jay-jays with my muffin-headed canine companion are a comfort.
And as much as I long for a human companion to spend my life with, the idea makes me squirm in an unpleasant way. I am realizing that I don't want to be in a relationship. I like hogging the entire bed, spending an hour reading before sleep, marching to the beat of my own drum, and not having to think about the needs and wants of another person or how my actions affect them. But I'm afraid if I allow myself to not want the big LTR that by the time I do want it, it'll be too late - even when the right guy comes climbing out of the woodwork, as so often happens when you put down your binoculars. I know it sounds ridiculous. Of course I won't always be adverse to a relationship. Of course the idea won't make me feel claustrophobic forever - especially if/when Mr. Right shows up. Perhaps the fear is a part of letting go of the idea that I have to have a man to be happy.
So here I am. Taking the dive to listen to myself and stop looking for what I don't even really want. Until the next one comes along...and when he does, he will be excited about me. He will be just the right amount of persistent. He will tell me I'm beautiful and talented, and Ashby will immediately love him. He will keep me laughing constantly, and will be super intelligent. We'll be able to finish eachother's sentences almost immediately. He will be tall and big and really good in bed. He will be handsome, but not enough to be intimidating. It would be rad if he were an FX artist, so we can geek out over techniques together, but a horror movie buff with an affinity for my craft would be enough.
I am not going to admit to myself that I just described my most significant ex to a T.
Instead, I am going to go watch another episode of True Blood (I'm behind a few weeks), eat Whole Foods imitation Oreos (which are actually pretty tasty) and actively put all boys out of my head, since I don't want them there, anyway.
This film has reignited my fire...and has made me realize what a fucking workaholic I can be. Today is the first in weeks when I've had nothing to do, and I'm all twitchy. Gone are the days when spending a day at home in my pa-jay-jays with my muffin-headed canine companion are a comfort.
And as much as I long for a human companion to spend my life with, the idea makes me squirm in an unpleasant way. I am realizing that I don't want to be in a relationship. I like hogging the entire bed, spending an hour reading before sleep, marching to the beat of my own drum, and not having to think about the needs and wants of another person or how my actions affect them. But I'm afraid if I allow myself to not want the big LTR that by the time I do want it, it'll be too late - even when the right guy comes climbing out of the woodwork, as so often happens when you put down your binoculars. I know it sounds ridiculous. Of course I won't always be adverse to a relationship. Of course the idea won't make me feel claustrophobic forever - especially if/when Mr. Right shows up. Perhaps the fear is a part of letting go of the idea that I have to have a man to be happy.
So here I am. Taking the dive to listen to myself and stop looking for what I don't even really want. Until the next one comes along...and when he does, he will be excited about me. He will be just the right amount of persistent. He will tell me I'm beautiful and talented, and Ashby will immediately love him. He will keep me laughing constantly, and will be super intelligent. We'll be able to finish eachother's sentences almost immediately. He will be tall and big and really good in bed. He will be handsome, but not enough to be intimidating. It would be rad if he were an FX artist, so we can geek out over techniques together, but a horror movie buff with an affinity for my craft would be enough.
I am not going to admit to myself that I just described my most significant ex to a T.
Instead, I am going to go watch another episode of True Blood (I'm behind a few weeks), eat Whole Foods imitation Oreos (which are actually pretty tasty) and actively put all boys out of my head, since I don't want them there, anyway.