In the last week, I've discovered that musical theatre withdrawal not only wreaks havoc on your emotional state, but also does a number on your body. In addition to feeling moody and reclusive, I've been in a massive amount of pain. My entire body aches - the joints, the parts in-between the joints - I've got it all covered. I must have been running on adrenaline for the past several weeks with all the singing and dancing and incredible rush you get from the audience.

And now, I have crashed. Not just any crash, but a graceful downward spiral pirouette, perfectly timed to a decending scale. Damn musical theatre. Why can't I just flop on the floor?

In trying to get my body back to normal, I've tried a few different things. First, there was yoga.

I've taken yoga classes before and always thought I was pretty good at it because I'm reasonably flexible. But this instructor is more about the "power" moves, not the lazy stretchy ones I adore. If there's one thing I don't have, it's the ability to lift my own body weight with various other parts of my body. Still, the class was going pretty well at the beginning of this month, pre-musical theatre withdrawal. The end of the show seemed to coincide with the instructor's need to have us be upside down for the remainder of the classes. We're suddenly doing headstands and handstands and I realize that I'm in over my head (literally). I spent the majority of the hour in child's pose, feeling like a failure and wanting to cry (is that why it's called child's pose??) The instructor came over to ask what was wrong and I mumbled something about withdrawal and being in pain. It's possible he now thinks I'm a drug addict.

I've discovered that walking into a room and saying the phrase, "Yoga is the devil" is a great conversation starter. I've already accepted the fact that my co-workers find me odd and slightly amusing, and now, everything I say just reinforces that notion. I walked into the lunchroom and called yoga the devil, which of course piqued their interest and a discussion on the topic.

Saviabella: [whining] Why does yoga have to be hard? I just want to do the kind of yoga where you lie on the ground.
Co-worker: You know, you could just do that on your own.
SB: If I have to do it on my own, I'll never do it. I want to pay someone to tell me to lie on the ground.

Okay, I admit that does sound pretty pathetic. But, mmmmm, corpse pose. My favourite pose, and I'm really good at it. Not only am I corpselicious, I'm also corpsicorpse, corpsulous and corpsetastic. And although the class ends in corpse pose and I get to drift in and out of consciousness for a whole ten minutes, I just couldn't do it today. I boycotted my last class.

My next foray into physical rejuvenation was physiotherapy. My jaw has been bothering me lately, to the point that I've been investigating braces and jaw surgery. My orthodontist sent me to a jaw physiotherapist, which I didn't even know existed until last week. The procedure consists of someone pushing on the parts of your jaw that hurt, and you trying not to scream "physiotherapy is the devil!!" It also involves the therapist putting rubber-gloved hands inside your mouth and attempting to pull your jaw out of your head. The best part is that when the hands come out, they leave trails of your own saliva all over your face. This just makes all the pain seem worthwhile.

Apparently, the musical theatre experience has created a huge amount of tension in my jaw and has made my TMJ problems worse. As the physiotherapist held my face, she kept telling me to stop clenching my jaw. "But it's not clenched," I said. Her response: "Oh dear." So, there will definitely be more pushing and tugging on my face in the next few weeks.

The third adventure of the week was massage therapy. This is possibly my favourite thing in the world. I mean, you get to lie in corpse pose for an hour and have a stranger rub you with oil - all at the same time! The person I go to is exceptionally talented. I just lie there, blissfully floating above my body while she irons out its kinks. I reenter my body from time to time to engage in conversations about how Tom Cruise is a psycho and how anorexic some of the Hollywood starlets are getting.

In my blissful state, I felt light and warmth and pleasure coursing through my body. I was in another place and time altogether. Then, I felt the therapist lean over and gently brush her lips against my forehead. She had never done this before, and I thought it was an odd addition to her repertoire. But I was so far gone, I didn't care.

A few seconds later, I realized that it wasn't her lips - she had gently put her arms around my head to straighten my neck. Man, I'm so glad I didn't pucker up.

Labels: health, jaw surgery

1. Times black and white cat threw up in my house yesterday: six
2. Incidences of unwittingly stepping in aforementioned cat puke: three
3. Hours since last cheezy musical theatre performance: 35
4. Withdrawal symptoms from cheezy musical theatre performance experienced in last 35 hours: one (see number five)
5. Hours slept last night: four and a half
6. Schmutzie's least favourite number: six
7. Castmates from cheezy musical theatre performance I will actually make an effort to see again: three
8. Smarmy male castmates who couldn't take a hint and quit crawling on me already: two
9. Times my ass was pinched on stage during the last performance: two
10. Times the above act was perpetrated by a smarmy male castmate: zero
11. Days until grad school starts: 43
12. Percentage of people who actually complete the grad program I'm starting in 43 days: 30%
13. Anxiety attacks from thinking about starting grad school: four
14. Pounds lost in last ten months (intentionally): 24
15. Pounds to go: 15
16. Promises that I will start going to the gym on a regular basis, starting tomorrow (July): 25
17. Incidences of going to the gym (July): one
18. Resolutions to pay down my debt and get my finances in order (2005): 1,567
19. Amount spent at Home Depot yesterday: $1,365.34
20. House energy efficiency rating (2004): 45 (not very efficient)
21. Expected rating after recent energy efficiency upgrades (2005): 70 (pretty efficient)
22. Amount spent to earn that rating: $5,850
23. Years it will take before that "pays for itself": 23.2
24. Incidences of banging head against energy efficient wall (yesterday): 25

25. Days 'til 30th birthday: 106

26. Anxiety attacks about turning 30: zero

27. Days until auditions for next cheezy musical performance: 34

28. Withdrawal symptoms now being experienced from last cheezy musical performance: three

29. Number of times computer crashed while writing this entry: two

Labels: misc

After three hours of singing, dancing and acting in a cheezy musical, Saviabella goes out for drinks with her castmates.

Male Castmate: So, do you have a boyfriend?
Saviabella: No.
MC:[Gives her an odd look and seems surprised] A good-looking gal like you? Why not?
SB: [Biting her tongue because this kind of a question always makes her want to go on a rant about the pressure our society puts on everyone to conform and pair off and procreate. She wants to ask, "What's wrong with being single? Why does it make me a freak not to be with anyone? And what does what I look like have anything to do with whether I'm with someone or not?" She resists the urge to bite part of his face off.] I'm not really interested in being with someone right now. I'm enjoying doing things just for me, and I'm having a blast. I suppose if the perfect person came along, that would be alright, but I'm not really looking.
MC: I see.
SB: Besides, I have no idea how you meet people nowadays. I mean, I'm involved in musical theatre. How on earth am I ever going to meet straight, good-looking guys?
MC: Hey, I'm straight and good-looking.
SB: Well, you may be straight...

Okay, I actually didn't say that last part, but I really, really wanted to.

Labels: relationships

Yesterday, Schmutzie and I celebrated our periods. This is the first time in my life that I've ever high-fived my period, and it's not because I thought I was pregnant; it's because what comes before the period is much worse than anything that could come after. The sight of red when I look down means the following:

1. I am not crazy
2. I am not clinically depressed
3. I am not fat
4. I do not want to quit my job for no apparent reason
5. I do not hate everyone around me
6. I do not hate myself
7. I really don't want that vial of my male friend's sweat after all

I remember a time when my period was something to dread. In the beginning, it was really horrible. I would throw up because the cramps were so bad. I wouldn't be able to get out of bed the first day, and I would have hot and cold flashes.

***Flashback***

When I was in Grade 8, we used our periods as a weapon. Whenever we wanted to get the teacher out of the room, one of the girls would be elected to fake her period. She went up to the teacher and whispered the words like some horrible secret, then was taken to the nurse's office where a cabinet was unlocked and opened, and a thick pad was presented to her. While she was gone, distracting the oblivious teacher with her "female issues", we were able to do whatever we wanted. We felt very powerful. What did we do when the teacher was away, you ask? One time, my friend F sat on the floor in the middle of the aisle, wrapped both of her legs around her head, and swung her body back and forth on her arms. She is the only person I have ever met who could do that.

***End of flashback***

Now that I'm older, the PMS is what gets me. And while, theoretically, I know the above seven points to be true, for one week every month, I get sucked in to the whirlwind of hormones and emotions and let them take over. Because as much as you can understand something intellectually, it's hard to help how you feel at the time.

This is compounded by the fact that I work in an office with more than two dozen women. Let me preface this by saying that I am honoured to work with such an amazing group of talented, intelligent, fabulous women. There is one downside, though: through a straw poll, I determined that many of our menstrual cycles have synchronized. I wouldn't have known this without the poll other than the telltale sign of women going into the bathroom with their purses, and I've never witnessed anyone treat others poorly because it was 'that time of the month.' But I can feel it in the air. It pulsates with female energy and hormones. I can almost see this mass, swirling above our heads. There is such incredible power in our bodies, and it emanates from us, making the air dense and stifling. I feel like I'm being smothered by it. I want to claw up the walls to get above it, to breathe.

And then, the red comes. The tension, stress, anxiety flow out of my body. The air clears. And I wonder how it is possible that I ever felt that way. I remind myself how I feel right now and try to archive that knowledge so I may draw upon it 28 days from now. But it's like I have menorrhic amnesia or something; every month, like clockwork, the cloud descends.

With that, I would like to raise my glass (red wine, of course) to toast you, my period. Thanks for making me sane again and helping me see the light of day. You rock, Aunt Flo.

Labels: misc

Apparently, you can improve your self-esteem by playing computer games now. Screw therapy; this is much cheaper.

The games are three variations on the same theme - faces float by on the screen with a variety of expressions - smiley, neutral, pouty, surly, constipated, etc. You click on the smiley faces and get points. You also click on your own name or birthdate. So, basically, you are choosing positive people and you are also choosing yourself, creating acceptance and positive associations with yourself, or so the theory goes.

As I was clicking on all those smiley faces last night (and although I hate to admit it, it does give you a bit of a warm fuzzy feeling after awhile), I thought about how far I've come in the past 10 years. Because, as much as I'd like to think that approaching 30 really doesn't mean anything, the number does remind you of how much time has gone by, and how much you've changed in the last decade.

I've learned that there's no sense pining over men, and that it's okay to be single. In fact, it's fucking fabulous to be single. At rehearsal the other day, there was a young woman (about 21) pining over some guy who was sending her mixed signals and playing mind games. I had a flashback to when I was her age and twitched when I thought about how much time I used to waste thinking about and longing after these loser guys who were just not worth it. I wish I knew then what I know now. This gal obviously needed the benefit of my years of knowledge, so I said, "Sorry, hon, he's just not that into you." And handed her the book. As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I wondered if she would be upset and think that I was extremely callous and rude. But she was just relieved that she didn't have to play any more of his games.

Another thing that has changed is that I used to think about the past a lot and lament all of the horrible things that have happened to me in my life. I don't do that anymore. I think I've let most of it go. It will always be there and it helped make me who I am today, and much of it scarred me for life, I'm sure. But I try not to dwell on it and let it get to me anymore. That feels really good. I'm much happier now than I probably ever have been as a result.

As I was watching the fireworks on Canada Day, I had a bit of a revelation. As the bright light filled the sky and cascaded down like molten amber, I realized that the three people I was standing with were completely unknown to me one year ago. One I met in September, one in May, and one just that day. As I thought back, I realized that this past year has brought me so many amazing, positive new friends whom I have instantly "clicked" with. That is so incredibly rare for me, as I tend to keep my circle small and find it difficult to meet new people that I can connect with on a deeper level. But this year has been different.

As I thought some more (because I had the time - the fireworks actually lasted longer than 10 minutes this year!), I realized that there was a very good reason for this. This last year, I have become more "myself" than ever before. I am finally pursuing the things that I want to do - singing, acting, dancing, grad school - and I'm doing it for me. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not - I'm just being myself and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it. I've cut the negative friends out of my life (for the most part, anyway) and I just do my own thing, regardless of whether anyone else is free to join me or not.

In just being me, without all the bullshit, I'm attracting these positive people. Or at least that's the theory. So click those smiley faces!

Labels: self-esteem, transition