It's a small world in movieland. I found out yesterday that the Camera guy I've been pressing for a job is THE Mr. S. The Mr. S that used to work on indies in Dayton with Aunt J. The Mr. S that moved to New York with Aunt J to make it big. The Mr. S who lived in a shoebox apartment with Aunt J and another woman in Chelsea in the 90's. Whoa. So I think I have a really good shot at getting a camera PA gig with this guy. He's kind of awesome, and he works with a DP who's kind of awesome, so I'm pretty excited about that.
Anyway, now that my on-set life is in full swing I've found myself a whole new set of buddies and I'm drinking a lot again. I would like to drink less perhaps, but socializing with these people does several things for me. First and foremost, I like them a lot and enjoy hanging out with them. Second, it is necessary to build rapport with people to nurture the whole job-getting network thing. And also, all the social time I'm getting is helping to keep me happy. I genuinely like it.
So anyway, I don't know if I said so earlier, but I have a great suspicion that I have the same manic-depressive thing my dad had. Or maybe it's different, but it's definitely there; I definitely swing back and forth every few months. I've been doing great since the middle of the summer and things have been really good. I trained for and ran my first half-marathon, I totally switched gears with my career and am loving the changes, I got through The Starlet moving out and have been coping fairly well with a new roommate that I don't especially enjoy living with. That's the major stuff. Little things have fallen by the wayside, like normal, but mostly I'm getting tons done and really enjoying myself, which is totally great.
So manic phase has been in full swing for oh...four months now? And I'm watching every moment for warning signs that the pendulum is swinging the other direction. So far I think I'm okay; I'm dealing with my feelings openly and using running to help release my stresses, but the other night I'd had a drink too many and then the old pain came back when the 22 year old was all sunshine and roses with me one minute and then all icicles and vanishing acts the next. So I put my head on the shoulder of my friend and though I put up a good fight, the tears won. I had a Drunk Girl Cry in front of three of my new friends and some chick I'd met five minutes earlier and then and there I vowed henceforth to become a great consumer of ginger ale.
