A Conversation in the Key of #Depression

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Get up.”

“No.”

“You’re being depressing.”

“Probably because I’m depressed.”

(Beat)

“Do you plan on leaving your bed today?”

“No. No plans. Except when the exterminator gets here. Because he’s apparently forcing me to leave on account of spraying toxic chemicals.”

“Freaking tiny, endlessly annoying, quickly multiplying, nameless beetles.”

(Beat)

“How about a shower?”

“No.”

“You’re kinda smelly.”

“So?”

::huffs in exasperation::

“You know, you won’t get anywhere career-wise if you’re set on remaining facedown in your pillow.”

“I’m not getting anywhere career-wise when I put in the effort, anyway, and this position is much more comfortable.”

(Beat)

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“You haven’t eaten all day.”

“Probably because I’ve expended no energy lying here; therefor, I have no appetite.”

“Sound reasoning, albeit flawed logic.”

(Beat)

“Don’t you think it’s been enough time? It’s been months…”

“It still hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Everything. Everything hurts. My whole life hurts.”

(Beat)

“Still holding back those tears?”

“Yup. Too proud to let them go.”

“Patricia told you that you’d feel better if you just had a good cry.”

“Can’t. I’ve made it this far. I’m already committed to being obstinate. Plus, you’ll probably beat me up about it if I do.”

“No, I won’t. I promise.”

“Right.”

(Beat)

“Hows about some Netflix?”

Good idea, but that isn’t going to get me out of bed, I’ll just watch it on my phone.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I know.”

(Beat)

“This is an unforeseen turn of events…are you going to stop pestering me about getting up?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“DID I STUTTER?!”

(Beat)

“Why are you relenting now?”

“Because…”

“Yeeeessss?”

“Because I’m very understanding, and gentle, and kind to other people experiencing depression. Why wouldn’t I be just as understanding, gentle, and kind to myself?”

(Beat)

“Maybe we’ll get up tomorrow.”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s think about ordering pizza.”

“Good idea…I love you, you know…even when you annoy me–errr…us.”

“I know…let’s get some Murder, She Wrote up in this piece.”

 

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A Random Smattering of Online Dating Messages

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I’ve been pretty open about being at the bottom of an ice cold well of feelings these last couple of days. I’m adding PMS to the mix and now I’m a flood of human emotion mixed with full-body aches.

If I tell one more person, as a response to the question “How are you?”, that “My whole life hurts”, I’m sure someone will call a qualified healthcare professional and have them cart me off to a residential location with padded walls and no sharp objects.

All these feels got me like:

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The Tudors | Showtime

Going through a breakup, even the most amicable (which I guess this one sort of was?), hurts like a bitch–especially for extra feisty people like me that consider emotions to be for the weak:

Mean Me: Hey, me! Cry us a river, build a sustainably-built-eco-friendly bridge, and get over it!

Sad Me: Since when did we care so much about the environment? Also: sadness, sadness, rejection, loneliness, sadness.

Mean Me: Just kidding about the crying. You better not cry over this!

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Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs | SONY

But that inner-monologue tennis match gets old: there’s only so much time I’m willing to dedicate to staring at the undulating shadow of the ceiling fan, lying sprawled on my bed, pondering what I could have done differently to not have ended up here, in this pitiful state.

And because I had already dedicated the weekend immediately post-breakup to alcohol therapy, I decided that this past weekend, I would dedicate to online dating.

Somehow, in my mood fogged, discombobulated brain, I thought that physically seeing the other fish in the sea would cheer me up and make me feel less like the dejected quarter-life hag that I keep seeing in the mirror every morning.

WRONG.

And this is where I propose that grown adults should have “internet babysitters” to keep them from making crappy decisions when they’re emotionally unstable. Because in my hurry to check out dating options, I forgot what a mixed bag of people online dating sites contain. And by “mixed bag” I mean a few examples of Prince Charming ranging all the way to Creepy McCreeperson, with the majority of men falling toward the latter end of the spectrum.

Most of the horribly egregious messages, I’ve just been straight deleting, but tonight, I was inspired to keep the rest and share them with the world.

Originally, I thought I would sign on and just browse, not answering any messages (because it would be unfair to start a relationship when one is not emotionally available AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT KIND PEOPLE DO, RIGHT?). And I haven’t made much of an effort but since I am a generous blogger, I’m going to share a few selections of messages I’ve received with you now–

I signed on last week, and I’ve already received upwards of 80 messages.

THAT’S NOT A BRAG–it just goes to show how many dudes are trolling this site, participating in a numbers game by messaging everyone labeled “woman”. Most of the time, they haven’t actually read your profile, and they’re copy-pasting like you won’t figure that method out.

A small handful of dudes make real efforts at making conversation, based on the information that I have written in my profile, which is AMAZING and I won’t be profiling them here–I’ll never sneer at someone making a true effort.

But most messages look like this:

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He’s got that comma, but forgot to write the rest of his message.

Bonus points if he calls you “gorgeous” because that’s the most overused greeting on these sites. The first time you see it, you may feel great because maybe you’ve been starved for romantic attention, but then it just gets old:

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See what I mean? You could say, “Oh, they’re giving you a compliment!” but maybe you could compliment me on one of the many things I took the time to write in my damn profile and not just look at my photo and pass judgement on my appearance! Also, without identifying factors in the message, it’s most likely a copy-paste and that’s just lazy. 

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Oh, sorry, I was being presumptuous, thinking you may be interested in my intellect and not just my photos. Next time I WILL LEAVE EVERYTHING ELSE BLANK.

Also, the state of Iowa finds me beautiful, y’all, don’t get jealous.

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Just “pretty” cute? No, let me fix that for you: I’m “gorgeous”.

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A “dusk sunrise”…hmmm…dusk and sunrise are opposite astronomical occurrences. Is he saying I’m an enigma wrapped in a paradox? That’s deep. Also the answers to your questions are written in my profile.

At least this next guy read my profile, supposedly more in-depth than any other dude so far:IMG_2042.JPG

Sad that I’ll never know what.

And speaking of interesting conversation openers:

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And this one:

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No, no, I don’t think that I am.

And then there are those that have openers that leave you scratching your head just a little:

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If my future ex-husband had spent more time reading my profile instead of telling me about his medical prowess while neglecting his patients, he would have realized that EVERY SINGLE QUESTION he asked me was answered in my profile. His copy-paste game is strong.

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How do you know I like to travel and why are you making plans for my future-self without consulting my present-self, first?! And it’s a trend, apparently:

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Then there’s this guy, who isn’t short on confidence, but neglects to ask a leading question to get me to respond:

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Maybe he’s expecting, “This all sounds super. Sign me up!”

One of my personal faves, this guy who thinks it’s sexy to accuse me of being a phony “To Catch a Predator” profile:

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And this guy who does not have 4 hours’ worth of patience (although, he probably shouldn’t hold his breath):

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And the pièce de résistance:

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Now y’all know I was rip, roaring, and ready to answer this guy and take him up on his blessing me with his sexual abilities. Note that he does not guarantee my climax–it only happens if there’s a connection between us–so take the free sex on the off-chance that it could be enjoyable.

I posted this final missive of undying love for some of my internet pals to swoon over when one of the more attentive friends pointed out that this is, verbatim, actually a huge scam by some casanova that assures men that this pick-up-paragraph will guarantee they see action from total strangers on the internet.

Talk about insulted! I couldn’t even inspire this future-ex-husband to write a more original love sonnet to me!

Oh well–guess I better stay logged in and wait for the next offer of anonymous sex.

 

 

 

Been in LA for 4 Years and All I Got Was this Lousy T-shirt

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On July 20th, 2012, I arrived in Los Angeles to start my professional acting and writing journey. I was 24, slightly heartbroken/very single, without an acting agent, without a job, and wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into.

4 years later and life has proven that it can be cyclical in the shittiest possible ways.

I’m newly heartbroken/single, without an acting agent (though, I did briefly have one), and still wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.  But I have a job so I guess I can be thankful for small mercies. And I’ve learned to avoid Adele this time around, which is hard because her latest album is perfection.

4 years seems like a lifetime ago–24 year old me had just left her collegiate bubble not long before her journey and was so optimistic about all of the golden opportunities that surely abounded in Tinseltown.

And then I got here, inhaled my first lung-full of the months of dust that had collected on the streets due to the extreme drought conditions and learned what racial type-casting parts are available to women that look like me (maid, thug’s girlfriend, slave, repeat).

It would have been easy to high tail it back to the East Coast. It would have been easy to quit pursuing this astronomical goal and resign myself to a life behind a desk or wiping baby butts that don’t belong to my progeny.

But for some reason, which is frankly beyond all sane thought and comprehension, I am still here. epdlt

 

I am still here and still as in love with lists as when I arrived back then, so I’m going to give you a bunch to sum up what I have accomplished and what I’ve learned.

Things I HAVE accomplished:

  • I’ve lived in the same apartment consistently for the longest period of time EVER. As a Navy kid and due to a turbulent teen experience, I’ve never lived in one house/apartment/dorm for longer than 4 years.
  • I’ve somehow chipped out a reputation as a highly sought after childcarer. As a nanny, I’ve reached the top of the pay bracket in the last 4 years and established myself in many celebrity and high-networth circles as the girl to hire (now, only if my acting and writing took off like that).
  • I’ve managed to support myself financially since I graduated from college 6 years ago, and paid off my student loans (which were supporting me the previous 4 years) in less than 5.
  • I have significantly reduced the amount of panic attacks I experience and that’s probably my GREATEST accomplishment.

On Work:

  • There has to be a balance with the rest of your life. You’ll go crazy/lose friends if you don’t.
  • Having lived a life constantly trying to make ends meet, it’s hard to say no to paying job opportunities, even if you’re financially in a good place. Practice saying “NO” or you won’t have time to pursue other goals.
  • Sometimes we have to do jobs we don’t actually want to do in order to fund our dreams. You are not in the position to be a freeloading millennial. You are not a trust fund kid. Suck it up. Go to your survival job.

On Hollywood and The Grind:

  • It’s all about who you know–and even sometimes making big industry connections won’t do shit unless they are ready to go to bat for you. WHICH WON’T BE OFTEN because so many people here are “risk averse” unless there is something specifically in it for their benefit.
  • Connections can be formed in the weirdest places–like when you go to help someone potty train their kid and they mention they’re an agent and would love to read your work (happening right now, in real life).
  • You have to put in the hours, the thousands of hours, to even make the tiniest bit of headway. But if you don’t, you’re not getting anywhere fast.
  • If you’re a POC, Hollywood is currently interested in “diversity”–and “diversity” includes anyone other than cis-gendered straight males. So white women and white LGBTQetc men are clumped in there with you. Don’t let this be a fad–let it be the new reality by refusing to play a stereotype or a trope (as much as possible). It is entirely possible to write POCs without being offensive, predictable, and boring.
  • Be supportive of other artists–you can’t play ALL OF THE ROLES so try to be excited when your friends/colleagues book.
  • Many people outside of Hollywood won’t know what a coup it is to even GET the audition in the first place. Celebrate every small victory.
  • Even when it feels like you’re banging your head against the wall with new headshots, new (expensive classes), and invested money leaking out of your ears, just keep going. Half the battle is sticking around and outlasting the competition.
  • And the best advice I’ve received (this tidbit of wisdom coming from a successful comedy producer): BE PATIENT.

On Love and Relationships**:

  • Dating is hard. Dating sucks. It’s a necessary evil unless you live in a culture with arranged marriages (and by all accounts, those aren’t fun).
  • Getting hurt is the worst. But if you don’t open yourself up, if you refuse to be cautiously vulnerable, you run the risk of never making that meaningful connection again and pushing away something that could have been great.
  • Don’t settle–you will find someone that loves you just as much, wants to be with you just as much, and isn’t afraid to both show and tell you often.
  • If you’re with someone that is changing how you perceive your value or self-worth in a negative way, END IT. RIGHT NOW. GO. DO IT.
  • Don’t stay with someone because you’re afraid of being alone. Worse than that, don’t stay with someone because you’re afraid of being “the bad guy” by initiating the breakup. Inaction in stringing someone along is more hurtful than taking action.
  • And if it doesn’t ever work out that you meet “the one“, Jane Austen was a spinster and a #BadBitch so you’ll be just fine.

**Full Disclosure–Newly heartbroken/single me thinks the above advice is complete horse shit. But some day (hopefully soon), I’ll let it sink in again.

On Life:

  • Hiring a housekeeper to come once a month is WORTH IT–especially if you’re horrible at cleaning. Paying the money for this luxury will truly raise your spirits beyond measure.
  • Getting married, having babies, owning a house, the “normal life milestones”, etc. may come at a slower pace than your friends back home. But you’ve got a goal, here, and dwelling on what you “don’t have” won’t get you any further to it. Those things aren’t out of reach for you, so be happy for those who are taking the fast track to them.
  • Keeping in touch with non-LA friends and family is key to longevity out here. Having your own cheering section to comfort you, even if over the phone or internet, is sometimes more meaningful than in-person relationships.
  • Your metabolism will slow down. Exercise isn’t an option–it’s a necessity to keep you from turning into a blob.
  • Wash everything in cold water with cold water detergent. And bras last longer if you air dry them.
  • You may miss the simplicity of the life you left behind–but that life wasn’t meant for you, so think about it in the past as a learning experience and not something you abandoned.

And finally, “nothing worth having comes easy”. Life is hard,  but wanting something bigger and better for yourself–wanting your dreams to actually become your reality–takes an incredible amount of moxie–remind yourself that you’ve got it.

“There’s been trials and tribulations
You know I’ve had my share
But I’ve climbed the mountain, I’ve crossed the river
And I’m almost there, I’m almost there
I’m almost there!”
–Princess Tiana, The Princess and The Frog

I’m Ready to be a Housewife

I am ready to leave the American workforce.

My two jobs, 7 days a week are finally getting to me, and this single gal is ready to throw in the towel.

I am growing weary of the first dates and the stress of the constant “will I ever get married” mantra scrolling through my brain [to be fair, it only flutters in a couple of times a month now, but for drama’s sake, we’ll say it happens every hour].

Let’s get this girl settled in a homestead, already!

Disclaimer: I know being a homemaker and a stay at home mom is hard work––I do. No. Really, I do! I was a full-time, live in nanny of three children under 5 in a former life. That’s like being a SAHM, minus the conjugal duties and the ability to make decisions about how the children should be raised (which is tough when you’re a primary caregiver).

So, I’ll add that I don’t JUST want to get hitched–I want to marry a billionaire. Because I think rich housewives have got it made. Screw the bachelor’s degree I am still paying off, I’m ready to be a woman of leisure And here’s how I’d live my life:

  1. After ensuring that my three full-time housekeepers have everything they need to scrub my house from top to bottom, I’ll pour myself a mimosa–giving orders takes a lot out of you. Don’t worry, I’m compensating them well above industry standard because I know how hard they’ll have to work to clean my mansion modeled after Windsor Castle.
  2. I’ll be the primary care-giver for my children because I won’t lose my maternal instinct and love for kids just because I’ve got piles and piles of filthy cash. However, I will have an army of nannies “on-call” just in case I need to go to the bathroom in peace (something almost impossible to do while watching an ankle biter) and eat a meal without someone asking me if they can have some. Beyond that, I’m homeschooling and raising my kids to be geniuses. I’ll spend a fortune on tutors to train my kids in Math (the hard kind), Classic and Modern Languages, Art, and Sudoku (because I am really bad at that). I’ll sip on champagne while they work. 
  3. Which car will I drive (Lamborghini or Maserati?) to take a luxuriant trip to the public library? I know, not everyone fantasizes about spending time among stacks of moldy books, but I can’t imagine that gaining money will automatically change my abhorrence of shopping and spas. I’ll treat myself to a glass of wine in those hallowed halls. Everyone’s gotta “Treat Yo’Self” once in a while.
  4. Speaking of “Treat Yo’Self”, I will have every television, one per room, set to loop episodes of the hit NBC show, Parks and Recreation. That show is my Reason for Life and if it ever gets cancelled…I don’t even want to think about it. Hopefully, it doesn’t get cancelled before I’m rich. When I have briefcases full of greenbacks, I will pay NBC to continue airing it indefinitely. And by “indefinitely” I mean FOR ALL ETERNITY.
  5. I’d give half of my wealth to charity–but only for the tax write-off. That’s just standard protocol for people that have stupid amounts of money. But, HEY, I’m giving to charity! I’ll toast them with a glass of port (because apparently, my mental imagery of the incredibly wealthy also coincides with people who have issues with alcohol).
  6. I’d buy a fleet of horses, but never ride them, as I’m terrified of getting thrown (even though I did take a couple of lessons in western riding–never fully conquered that fear). It’s just a known fact that rich people have an impressive collection of animals and such. Maybe I’ll trade in the horses for white siberian tigers. Well, maybe not, we saw how that worked out for Siegfried and Roy.

What’s that, you ask? What about my husband? Well, obviously, he’d be my love slave and give me whatever I want, and always agree with me, and not care that I don’t like to shave and never lost the ‘baby weight’. Because as long as I’m in this fantasy world, I’m goin’ all out.

A perfect example of a "Desperate Housewife" | Photo Credit: Mummy-Mayhem.com

A perfect example of a “Desperate Housewife” | Photo Credit: Mummy-Mayhem.com

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