MORE on the Haircutting Incident.....
I got it trimmed at the local Armenian salon for $12 today. It's not bad, it's just....short. I haven't had this haircut since I played a flapper in "Splendor in the Grass". That was when I was 18 (I'm sure Sassy recalls....). ON the upside it's a super easy do and now I can color it and worry no more.
AND for the sake of sanity Therapist and I discussed all manner of things today, and it would seem that a.) new job possibility , b.) Heroin Boy (I've given Gumdrops and Feathers a new moniker; this is far more accurate. I'd mentioned the heroin metaphor with regard to him before, and it fits. I should note that I'm borrowing from Stephenie Meyer there; when Edward ( the vamp) meets Bella ( the girl) and gets a whiff of her scent, he goes kinda wonky in the head, wanting her, even though THAT is a completely BAD idea. His now-famous line is " If I were a drug addict, I would say you are exactly my brand of heroin." Unbelievably appropriate in this sitch.). Finally, c.) , money woes have me living on the verge of sanity, moreso than usual. Mix and combine with Turning 40 Stuff and a slight dip in the seratonin levels ('cause of .....well, who knows, really?), throw in a splash of not talking to hardly anyone about it and WHAM! Julie officially melts down and now looks like Dorothy Hamill. (Which, as far as haircuts go, could have been worse. But frankly, I'd prefer not to repeat this experience.)
All in all, I AM feeling very restricted in lots of ways, and talking it out with people post-mortem has made me a bit clearer on what's going on.
I would only add to the summation that I've already given, the sort of general state of my life, the de riguer: I don't have any room for pleasure, I don't have any creative outlets, I don't have my support group anymore in case I need to talk, and I'm trapped in the house alot lately because they're cutting hours at work, and I have no money to go DO anything.
I read somewhere once that if creative people don't have an outlet they get a little...well, itchy and intolerable, and sometimes destructive. I don't buy into the "tortured artist" bit, mind you-- (I had a teacher once take some of my peers down a peg for putting that on in art school. She said, "Life hands you all the suffering you can handle, so dont go looking for it to be dramatic and make your work. Snap out of it, it's just a pose. " I almost stood up and applauded.) -- I don't think all artists are fucked up.
I DO think, however, that everyone needs to express their gifts and talents, in some way. And with this particular type of temperment, the impetus to do so is more urgent for some reason. (I don't know if it's a wiring thing, but its' been there since I was born, and I don't think it's a dysfunction.And I've since met lots of other people wired the same way). And when you can't, it feels like you're going to explode.
I feel like I'm going explode ALOT. From creative emptiness, and from all the things I can't control right now that I've already listed. The only thing I look at every day is all the things I have to fix around the house which makes me frustrated and bored. Something has to change.
So maybe you're right. I don't know what to change, so I changed my hair. Pretty radically, and maybe it was kinda crazy. My next task, I see, is to fix the underlying problem so I dont feel so pressure-cooker anymore. But that's a task that's harder than it looks ( although see afortmentioned Therapist J session; we're on it.) *Sigh*.
Meanwhile, I think I'm going to go color my hair into something sexxxaaayy and scrape up some money for some new perfume. I've decided to look into a cheap acting class as well, and in addition to therapy, seek out a new DBSA support group. I'm going to have to do some juggling to fit it all in, both financially and time management-wise. I may not be able to do it all at once, but it will give me hope. Hope the sense of possiblity is something that's been in too short supply around here ( I suspect the whole country feels that way, but that's a whole other topic.)
*Sigh*. Some days I wish Oprah would do one of those shows where she gifts people who are good or lost a limb or suffered enough to boost ratings with paying off their debt and having Tina Turner sing for them or whatever their dream is, for ME. Sad that I actually fantasize about it. ( In my fantasy she pays off my student loans, I get a new Saturn Skye Roadster-- silver-- and Keith Urban sings 'You Look Good in My Shirt' -- no Nicole in sight--. That's not too much to ask, right? I'd nominate myself for this kind of show, but that would probably be in poor taste. )
And that's about the size of it, folks. Sorry it isn't rosier, but as everyone keeps telling me, it could be worse. And I suppose that's true. However, I would prefer it to be better, and I appreciate all the support I can get in trying ot make it so. Thanks.
So be it....
I got it trimmed at the local Armenian salon for $12 today. It's not bad, it's just....short. I haven't had this haircut since I played a flapper in "Splendor in the Grass". That was when I was 18 (I'm sure Sassy recalls....). ON the upside it's a super easy do and now I can color it and worry no more.
AND for the sake of sanity Therapist and I discussed all manner of things today, and it would seem that a.) new job possibility , b.) Heroin Boy (I've given Gumdrops and Feathers a new moniker; this is far more accurate. I'd mentioned the heroin metaphor with regard to him before, and it fits. I should note that I'm borrowing from Stephenie Meyer there; when Edward ( the vamp) meets Bella ( the girl) and gets a whiff of her scent, he goes kinda wonky in the head, wanting her, even though THAT is a completely BAD idea. His now-famous line is " If I were a drug addict, I would say you are exactly my brand of heroin." Unbelievably appropriate in this sitch.). Finally, c.) , money woes have me living on the verge of sanity, moreso than usual. Mix and combine with Turning 40 Stuff and a slight dip in the seratonin levels ('cause of .....well, who knows, really?), throw in a splash of not talking to hardly anyone about it and WHAM! Julie officially melts down and now looks like Dorothy Hamill. (Which, as far as haircuts go, could have been worse. But frankly, I'd prefer not to repeat this experience.)
All in all, I AM feeling very restricted in lots of ways, and talking it out with people post-mortem has made me a bit clearer on what's going on.
I would only add to the summation that I've already given, the sort of general state of my life, the de riguer: I don't have any room for pleasure, I don't have any creative outlets, I don't have my support group anymore in case I need to talk, and I'm trapped in the house alot lately because they're cutting hours at work, and I have no money to go DO anything.
I read somewhere once that if creative people don't have an outlet they get a little...well, itchy and intolerable, and sometimes destructive. I don't buy into the "tortured artist" bit, mind you-- (I had a teacher once take some of my peers down a peg for putting that on in art school. She said, "Life hands you all the suffering you can handle, so dont go looking for it to be dramatic and make your work. Snap out of it, it's just a pose. " I almost stood up and applauded.) -- I don't think all artists are fucked up.
I DO think, however, that everyone needs to express their gifts and talents, in some way. And with this particular type of temperment, the impetus to do so is more urgent for some reason. (I don't know if it's a wiring thing, but its' been there since I was born, and I don't think it's a dysfunction.And I've since met lots of other people wired the same way). And when you can't, it feels like you're going to explode.
I feel like I'm going explode ALOT. From creative emptiness, and from all the things I can't control right now that I've already listed. The only thing I look at every day is all the things I have to fix around the house which makes me frustrated and bored. Something has to change.
So maybe you're right. I don't know what to change, so I changed my hair. Pretty radically, and maybe it was kinda crazy. My next task, I see, is to fix the underlying problem so I dont feel so pressure-cooker anymore. But that's a task that's harder than it looks ( although see afortmentioned Therapist J session; we're on it.) *Sigh*.
Meanwhile, I think I'm going to go color my hair into something sexxxaaayy and scrape up some money for some new perfume. I've decided to look into a cheap acting class as well, and in addition to therapy, seek out a new DBSA support group. I'm going to have to do some juggling to fit it all in, both financially and time management-wise. I may not be able to do it all at once, but it will give me hope. Hope the sense of possiblity is something that's been in too short supply around here ( I suspect the whole country feels that way, but that's a whole other topic.)
*Sigh*. Some days I wish Oprah would do one of those shows where she gifts people who are good or lost a limb or suffered enough to boost ratings with paying off their debt and having Tina Turner sing for them or whatever their dream is, for ME. Sad that I actually fantasize about it. ( In my fantasy she pays off my student loans, I get a new Saturn Skye Roadster-- silver-- and Keith Urban sings 'You Look Good in My Shirt' -- no Nicole in sight--. That's not too much to ask, right? I'd nominate myself for this kind of show, but that would probably be in poor taste. )
And that's about the size of it, folks. Sorry it isn't rosier, but as everyone keeps telling me, it could be worse. And I suppose that's true. However, I would prefer it to be better, and I appreciate all the support I can get in trying ot make it so. Thanks.
So be it....
posted by Jessica @ 2:45 AM
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