I stayed up late watching the Pope's funeral. I don't know what I thought I would see, some kind of miracle or secret Catholic papal rituals. I believe in angels and saints so my favourite part of the mass was when they read/sang the names of the saints -- that made me happy for some reason.
I got Beau to take a shower, that was something, heh. I played with the cats, knit a little bit with some luscious Pluky Fluff yarn. I got caught up on wishing all of my LJ friends who list their birthdays on their journals a Happy Birthday -- if you haven't done this, at least put the day and month so I can come and give you a hug on the day you were born. I remembered to call my beloved Scott -- I tend to get sucked into some kind of time vacuum when we come out here, I forget to call him and naturally it hurts his feelings. What else did I do? Oh, I played with our new rat, that was fun. He's darling, I'll be sure to take a picture of him. I'd run and do this right now but I can't seem to get any of my digital image transferring processes to work, not with the Sandisk, or even using the USB cable and my camera.
I keep pushing forward through my new camera's manual, although I haven't gone out to take any pictures. Manuals and tutorials are super hard for me. I don't know why. It isn't from a lack of trying. I've started and stopped trying to learn Dreamweaver and Adobe Photoshop more times than I care to share here because it's just so embarrassing. If it isn't easy to learn in an intuitive kind of way, I struggle.
At this point I honestly can't tell if it's because of medications I take, or the underlying conditions I take the medications for. Like most folks who live with chemical imballances, I suppose because of the stigma, I have a hard time believing that I need them and that they're good for me. I often think if I just ate right, whatever that is, got off anything I could possibly be allergic to, worked out regualry, and lived more moderately that I'd be okay. I'm pretty sure though that while all of those things would certainly be helpful, that I would still remain deeply feeling, sensitive, empathic, creative, generous, and on the down side, goofy, distracted, disorganized and struggling to cope : (
I'm watching an episode of Seinfeld that I never saw that has an old college friend of mine featured pretty prominently on it. I see him from time to time. He had a big featured part in Johnny Depp's pirate movie. It's good to see my fellows working -- it brings up my ache to act. My friend Susan just went to get some new pictures. I'm waiting to see how they went and then I may just follow her on over there. Any fellow actors here who love their headshot photographers? Anyone wanna recommend to my agent on the strength of my journal personality? Actually I've got an in, I just need to get the pictures.
Oh gross Malibu has been farty today and he just walked by trailing his, ummm, scent. Blech.
I've been obsessing on my appearance lately -- something that's not really like me. Other than making a small effort to look unique, or to have fun with my clothes and accessories, I've always ignored my appearance to a certain degree. I always took my relatively attractive looks for granted. My Mom always says that I'm the least vain person she's ever met and while she's meant this as an insult, I've always taken it as a compliment. But now, because of my gastric bypass surgery, all of the weight I've lost, and all of the compliments I've received, my appearance has become more important to me. I think I've finally accepted how ridiculously important this is to people, and whether I think it's a stupid, shallow thing to care about or not, I've begun to tune in to the cultural zeitgeist of it.
I find myself looking in the mirror, worrying about the small amount of weight I've gained back, pulling the loose skin along my jawline back to remove these new furrows around my mouth, wondering what cosmetic surgery would do to my face -- if I could do it and not end up looking like a ghoulish version of my younger self -- not end up with a frozen Lion-woman face. I've begun to obsess about aging and am finally feeling, like so many of my same-aged friends, like an old-ish person. Where before I never saw age spots or wrinkles on my face now I do. Without all of the extra fat in my face, it's fallen, and shows my true age. It doesn't help that my vision keeps getting worse and worse.
There was an article in More, (or some other magazine that gives a damn about women over twelve), that had quotes from actors, (women actors), over forty, who were talking about how hard it is to find work -- that there is this kind of black hole for women who aren't young enough to play the hot sexy ingenue, (says who?) and not old enough to play full blown character roles yet. Great, so now I won't just be competing against my usual room full of fat semi-known and unknown character actors, but proven actors as well. I'd like to see some producer take me over say, Glenn Close.
I know I'm obsessing over something I haven't even got off my butt to do in a couple of years here but hey, it's my journal and I'll cry if I want to. Besides maybe this musing is my way of clearing the way...
Hey, that's what I should do today to capitalize on this astrological momentum. I should take a step or two in the direction of my art. I wonder what I could do here in the desert that would further my career... I'll let you know when I think of something.
Funny, while I was writing this, I saw two more old friends on television.
Mom had a bad, and I mean baaaad stomach ache tonight so I gave her some pills and now she's all better but not making a hell of a lot of sense, poor thing, she just said some weird rambling thing about the pope and making cookies and not leading men on. She was in so much pain so I gave her Tigan for the nausea and Hyoscyamine for the cramping, but I didn't know it would knock her out so badly. These are all meds her doctor has prescribed for her so please don't worry. I think she just needs to go to bed instead of laying here trying to read this romance novel, I wonder if she's really reading it.
Okay, gotta go, Beau wants me to come see his space ship, heh.