Happy IRS Enema Day!
I’m very discombobulated today and have been blaming it on the weird tax vibe mojo going around.
This weekend I start Advanced Film Acting at the Portland actor’s Conservatory. I miss it so bad!
I didn’t realize how much I missed it until a mother of one of my students asked during a conversation if I ever intended to go back to the Conservatory. I said I didn’t know.
“Do you ever miss it? Acting, I mean?”
I shrugged and tried not to think about it anymore. Then the next week my manager said something like, “You remember when you first started here and you were doing your movie stuff and acting? You were so bubbly and happy… you are not like that anymore.”
DOH!
So I walked out of her office, angry and a little hurt and stomped around the building a few times before I thought, “Crap. She’s right.” So I went back to my office and dialed the Conservatory and Sara answered the phone.
Sara was in my class when I was there and when she said, “Athena! Where have you been? You just disappeared!”
I nearly burst into tears. “I want to come back! I went off and traveled and adventured and wandered and I really miss you guys and I want to come back and are there any classes I can do on a Saturday and I miss you all so much and….”
I surprised even myself with how rambley and silly I got just by hearing her voice. So, long story short, I took Advanced Film on Saturdays and I can’t wait. Just knowing I would be starting has helped me balance better with the understanding that I would soon have an outlet for whatever I cannot express by writing and scrapping. I will have my outlet back! A new social circle to explore and a chance to reconnect with some of my peeps. I’m stoked!
So anywhoo, the next twelve weekends I will be occupied by something I love that I’ve been away from far to long… something that has affected me so much and on such a deep level that I didn’t even see it – but my boss saw it, and a total stranger somehow picked it up. When the Universe tells you once, it’s a hint. Twice and it’s a statement. Three times and you’d better fucking act on it because there is not a fourth warning.
Twice is good enough for me. I’m on it.
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