ladymirth

This may be the most hilarious wikipedia article ever.  

Which inspired me to search out the Cracked article on the subject.  Which is not half as funny as you'd expect, considering the source material. Whatevs. 

I've been reading Questionable Content obsessively for the last two days. I blame viciousberries. I also kind of have a crush on Marten Reed. He is almost my ideal man, and posesses a lot of Boy's more endearing personality traits - being more sexually inhibited than his girlfriend, charming self-deprecation etc. D'aww! 

I'm turning twenty-two in less than two hours. It figures that I've been spending the majority of today curled up in a fetal position, having anxiety attacks.

What have I done in the past year that's worth mentioning? 

1. Built a successful relationship. (Although I'm not sure whether I deserve much credit for that since I spent the greater part of the year in a depressed funk trying my best to chase Boy off)
2. Wrote two enlightening research papers: "Is pornography harmful to women?" and "Should FGC be criminalized?". 
3.Finished my transfer credits at ANC.
4. Held down a job for two months working for a creepy psychopath.
5. Interviewed an international sports celebrity in the process. 
6. Starred in a semi-professional play. 
7. Donated over a hundred of my old books and helped build a library for underaged kids. 
8. Almost got my driver's license (final test is in August). 
9. Wrote a fuckton of poetry. 
10. Discovered Batman, Christian Bale and DC Comics.

Hmm. That's more than I thought. And yet, I have yet to feel a sense of acheivement from any of them. I suppose this is because of my complex and deep-seated psychological issues. 

And on the flip side of that coin, I: 
1) Failed to maintain some promising friendships. 
2) Got one "incomplete" and and one (completely unfair) D, thereby tanking my GPA. 
3) Only made the Dean's list one more time after my first year. 
4) Failed to apply for and transfer to Canada and am now grappling with the fact that I don't even want to study or read or do much of anything anymore. 
5) Failed to hold down the job for more than two months; failed to find another job after leaving the place or even kick-start my freelancing career. 
6) Tanked the closing night performance of the play (Holy hell, I forgot I never followed up my post on that) and came out of the experience thoroughly disillusioned with acting. 
7)Failed to keep a long-term involvement with the library-building charity because of depression-related issues. 
8)Failed to get over my depression. 
9)Failed to re-take and this time complete ballroom dancing classes.
10) Failed to maintain the needful exercise-and-diet regimen. 
11) Failed to write any fanfic or anything much save the aforesaid fuckton of poetry.

Failed, failed, failed, failed. 
 
And to cap it off, Christian Bale flipped out, Batman turned out to be a manipulative asshole and then DC Comics killed him and proceeded to completely fuck my favourite characters to shit. 

No wonder I'm depressed. 

I think I need a stiff drink so I don't start thinking about what my next birthday might be like. Maybe I'll be depressed, alone and single. 

So...I'm in a play. A professional one.

I realize it's odd that I've never talked about it after that first mention of it back in January, especially considering it's virtually takn over my life for the last couple of months. The more something stresses me out, the less I talk about it.

Here's what it's about, in a nutshell:


Here are a couple more articles, if you want pictures.

We had a preview performance yesterday for the university and school kids. Some of them didn't quite get it, but they weren't bored or anything, and most people were positive about it. Tonight is opening night. I don't suppose I'll be very nervous tonight, since I was only a little nervous last night and I think I got it out of my system. But the critics are coming today, so I hope I don't gum up just the same.

It's going to be very strange on Monday, when I won't have any rehearsals to go to. I'll have to get myself partially lobotomized to stop myself reciting random bits of dialogue at intervals for the rest of my life.

Wish me luck.