Bumpkis

What is it with life, huh?

So, I've got this friend, let's call him Bumpkis. OK, so Bumpkis can go through one week feeling really well, and then the next week maybe he'll be down. Or, then maybe he'll have a good day and then a bad day. But what about having like a good morning, a weird afternoon, a strange evening and then a lousy night? How does life do that?

I can't ... um, strike that. Bumpkis can't figure it out. Mood shifts, emotional swings, feeling alterations... what the heck he wonders? Why can't he just be happy all the time? Why does he have to beat himself up when things aren't perfect? Hasn't he figured out yet that life, like his namesake, can be bumpkis sometimes? Dull, boring, terrible, lousy, unfeeling, ineffective, irrational, stupid, difficult, crazy, insane, problematic, unseemly, depressing, poopy ... the list goes on. But, othertimes, everything can be sunny, cheery, warm, wonderful... hmm, that's a significantly shorter list.

Anyway, he just needs to eat some pizza, watch some futbol and take a siesta and start the week over again tomorrow. Thank goodness for Mondays.

PS: He doesn't even care about futbol.

Dear Diary

Here, now, a sort of entry perhaps I should have reserved for my locked-and-chained-pink-and-white-flowered diary:

ARGH! I'm so frustrated. I don't know what's wrong or why and it's just making me so mad. AH. OK, so, I didn't go to the audition today. In fact, I didn't go to an audition all week, and now I have to wait until Friday morning for another opportunity. And I don't know why I'm not going. Well, that's a lie. I sort of do. I'm nervous. I'm nervous to go to any audition at AEA and sit there and not be seen. WHY? For goodness sake, I should be less nervous because the odds are I won't be seen, therefore no need to be nervous. I should be nervous when I go to a non-eq call and actually am seen, because I am sucking at those and people are actually seeing me suck at those.

Of course, the hour of the morning doesn't help. If an audition starts at 9:30, and I'm told the doors open at 7:30, then I sure as hell better be there at 7:30 to get my name on the list in the hopes of possibly being seen. If I get there at 8:30, I have a zilch chance, I am assuming. Of course, in high school, I was up at 5:55am every day. But that was a long time ago.

I don't understand this. And it's frustrating because I don't have a survival job, and so all I can do it sit at home, surfing the various audition notices, trying to find out which audition I won't go to next. COME ON. I can't figure it out. And I need to stop being a baby about this and actually go. That's the only solution to not going: going.

So there. Actual insight into my life. And about twelve hours earlier than I've been posting lately. And hopefully it will make me feel better when I now go and watch my Ti-Vo'd REGIS AND KELLY or last night's infomercials. Of course, (well, maybe not of course, but truly) I am kidding. I'll now have lunch, do some reading and then head off to rehearsal.

Gracious sakes.

Depressed? I'd rather lather.

I don't know what it was. I'm still at a loss, I guess, but either way, it doesn't matter much. Depression, that is. Or, more specifically, the cause of my depression. No, not like clinically. But... what's the opposite of clinical? Home-ical? Nothing went right yesterday. It was blah. I sat at the machinery at work, unhappy. Not even my iPod could cheer me up. I mean, I've listened to a lot of the music on there, no not all of it (gimme a break, you try listening to 11,451 songs--that's right.), but I didn't want it anymore. I'd had it with musicals, and my non-musicals weren't hitting the spot.

So, once home, I figured I should go the gym. I wasn't in the mood at all, but I went. Whatever. I eliptical-ized for, oh, say eight minutes, stopped, put on my long pants and coat and drove back home. I wasn't having it. At all. Don't know why, just bummed.

So I had a beer. The day before I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work (also depressed...) and bought beer, chips, candy... anything to make me feel better. I'm like a pregnant woman when it comes to food. Give it to me or you're gonna die. I bought Carlsberg. I thought I'd had it before and enjoyed it. WRONG. It sucked. I dunno, smells bad and tastes like a mediocre Bud. I know! How terrible.

Then I went to the mall. I decided to see a movie and had an extra hour to kill. I bought the soundtrack for DREAMGIRLS (details to follow), avoided the cell-phone-kiosk-a@#hole, yada yada yada... it was time for the movie, BABEL (details to follow).

Anyhow, what got me all day, all that depressing day, was how much we deny ourselves. I mean, I didn't deny myself anything yesterday. I wanted it and I took it -- whatever it was. Because I was in a crappy mood. But on regular days, why do I force myself to go to the gym, work a job where I have to get up at the God-forsaken hour of 8:45am? WHY DO I SCRIMP AND SAVE THE SOAP IN THE SHOWER? You know, this new liquid soap everyone's been using with those loofah things? I don't use those, but I use the soap, sparingly of course. But yesterday, standing there with my washcloth, hot water scalding my shoulders, I decided, actually said it outloud, "I want more soap." So I poured on some extra soap. And I lathered all up. Mmm. I did the same thing today. YES! Now I know what that girl in the Herbal Essence commercial is so excited about. LATHER!