I have decided that, so far, 33 is all about balance.
Personal
Earlier on the same day I bought the best jeans ever, it turns out that I also bought the worst jeans ever. I knew they weren't great when I tried them on, but at the time, I felt I wasn't in a position to be choosy and they fit - kinda. Why didn't I return them when I found my perfect jeans minutes later? Well, because I always need shlumpy jeans I don't care about to walk the dog in and these were on sale.
Once I started walking in them, it didn't take me long to figure out that there is nothing right about these jeans. They're just a little too short. They're strangely slim-fitting around the knees. They grip my stomach tightly, yet they simultaneously try to claw my ginch off my ass. They bunch weirdly around the thighs, a few inches below the crotchal area, which creates a lot of angry friction (not the sexy kind, you pervs) and now I have a big welt on the front of my leg. The final straw came yesterday, when I wore them to walk the dog up to the vet. After helping the vet hold the Emmy Lou down for her various check ups (Lovely vet over the sound of Emmy breathing hard like a warthog while she injects a vaccine: "She really doesn't like to be confined, does she?" Me, sweating and failing to grip my writhing, corn-chip smelling dog: "Nope.") I started to walk Emmy home and felt a breeze. Because my fucking fly was down.
These jeans make the Baby Jesus cry.
I can't wear them but I can't throw them out either. So I really hope that whoever ends up with them at the Goodwill finds them to be HER perfect jeans.
Professional
I submitted a short script for a festival here in Vancouver about a month ago and was supposed to hear about whether I got in this past Monday.
I was strangely excited about it - I thought my little script was a good fit and I haven't actually done any theatre in Vancouver yet and I thought this could be a fun way to start, yadda yadda. As the announcement date drew near, I found I was hanging around at home like a 10th grade girl waiting for her 12th grade possibly-maybe-quasi-boyfriend to call (mine always called - way too often, actually, but that's probably because he was gay too and didn't really know the protocol).
Yesterday, the phone finally rang - and it was one of my favourite Toronto theatre gals calling to tell me that an hilarious idea I emailed her about a couple of weeks ago looks like it's going to actually happen in the fall (I'll let you know what it is once we have an official title for it but trust me - you will ALL want to come.) We laughed our heads off talking about it and when I got off the phone, delighted, I noticed I'd gotten an email...rejection from the Vancouver folks. And I totally didn't care. HA ha!
Musical
I just noticed that the latest mix I made for my iPod includes both Choctaw Hayride by Allison Krauss & Union Station and Britney Spears' latest single Break the Ice. Maybe that's not balance, though - maybe that just means I'm a hick. Shut up.
Culinary
Some crazy lady liberated a chicken from me at the Safeway; International Carnival of Pozitivites founder Ron Hudson is mailing me a homemade poundcake (waaaaay better than chicken)!!!!
Talking Rabbit
I got Kate a Nabaztag for Christmas. Then she got ME one for my birthday! More on that later. The short version is: We're NERDS.
I've been yapping away to Katr about trying to find more balance lately, what with all the fun and frolic of wife life, work life, creative life, Dawn French, donuts, Gina Torres - and I've been having some success in these areas. So it's nice to feel that the universe is also supporting me in my efforts to achieve perfect balance.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go listen to Break the Ice while icing my welt.
