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I know I was grumbling about a month ago that I needed to make up a list of things I wanted to do before I turned 30. I stopped stressing about it for a while and got on with other things. But that little nagging thought at the back of my mind that time was running out did wander in my direction from time to time.

As of today I have 8 months left to do whatever it is I come up with. And after a long weekend of many things, I think I have that list nailed. It’s not a lot of things. And my last post on this topic ended with me realizing that I needed to find my mojo first. And that at last has been located. Silly of me not to realize that I may have left it somewhere that I last felt alive in. I took a drive down there over the weekend, found it dancing away with the waves along the Unawatuna beach. It was promptly packed back inside my system where it’ll hopefully remain this time.

With the return of my jinthu, so to speak, things are so very much clearer. There was a deliberation about me earlier which I realize now was highly unnecessary. I was purposely searching for what I thought would be best for me in my present predicament. It never happens that way. And it was also not necessarily what was best for me, just because I imagined it would be that way. Things are going to happen far more naturally from now on.

Without any further ado, here’s my “before I’m 30” list :

1. Take a walk on the wild side
2. Don’t be answerable to anyone but myself
3. Don’t give a damn about the opinions of others who have no clue who I really am
4. Find my dream home, rent it & move in
5. Turn 30 in Una or on a beach away from Colombo!

Short & sweet innit?

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Ok, I think it’s safe to say I established my present age in numerous posts before and see no need to continuously repeat it. But I with a friend on Monday night who asked me about the list in my head of what I wanted to do before I’m 30. Not things I wanted to achieve, mind. Just do. And besides a couple of things, I came out blank. Me? The queen of list making couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do before the year was out. I gazed and gazed and gazed at Lulu trying to type something on her for the last 3 days. To make that list and post it here. Nothing came to me. So instead of trying to think it out, I though I’d start to type this post and see where it takes me.

I’m wondering if it’s that I’ve lost my mojo or jinthu so to speak that could think up a million kinky or adventurous things I wanted to do in a nanosecond. So why am I drawing a blank now. As we grow older and more jaded are we meant to lose those the few nicer things about ourselves as well? The things which never came into the equation when you needed to shave off the ugly, pick up the remains and move on? These things were meant to be constants. Like my muse. She just upped and took off a few months ago and I’m wondering what it is I have to do to get her to come back.

I woke up in the heart of Colombo on Tuesday morning at the crack of dawn because I was hanging with a friend. And I was in awe of what I saw. A city coming to life. Light just beginning to creep in. A man pounding away at a gym on the 13th floor somewhere. A soldier stifling a yawn on the streets below. A series of bulbs going off in tall buildings, making way for the sun. The ocean glowing like a bed of jewels. A solitary bird looking for a perch. Put all of that together and I have no words to describe how beautiful it was. I should have been inspired to start writing right away. But all I did was light a cigarette, take it all in and go back to sleep. Why?

I’m honestly clueless. I’ve taken every possible drastic action possible to get her back. Trust me, I have. And still nothing. Ideas are my life. Creative ones. And minus the muse, I’m getting bored and complacent at the same time. Bored with what I’m doing now. Complacent because I can’t seem to figure out what else I could do. Under normal circumstances as much as I love advertising I could also come up with a lost of alternatives in a nanosecond too.  

That’s what I need I guess. My muse. My ability to come up with a big list of things. With alternatives. With the ability to never be bored just because I conquered the mountain I wanted to. Hopefully I’ll get it all back soon and I’ll be able to make that list. 30 isn’t going to be a far away number for too long and I’m running out of time.

There. I put it all out. Hopefully things will start to improve now.

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Help Brandix, Murphy is on my back now. I have this scary, hollow sense of dread at the bottom of my stomach. Its like my mojo is missing all of a sudden. I’m not going to get into a long harangue of a post because I’ll just end up crying by the time I’m done and all I want is to get through tonight and tomorrow. That’s it. That’s all really. Not much to ask for right? There’s just a few things I need to list down, both good and bad because if I don’t do it now, the moment would have passed me by and I don’t want to let go of the good bits of it just yet, especially when there are so many upsetting things intermingled with them…

1. My throat is not functioning. I can sing only my lower range notes and I squeak when I go any higher. And this IS a musical after all. 

2. I’ve been on 2 different courses of antibiotics, 2 different kinds of cough syrup, Samahan, strepsils, bees honey and anything else that has promised a cure for one week now to no avail

3. I saw the set on Monday when I walked in and it took my breath away. When I’m up there I actually feel like I’m in an Olde Englishe Pub

4. I’ve been connecting more and more with cast members everyday. So much so that my heart is already starting to break. One tells me that he is just getting back on his feet again after his girlfriend died in a car crash. Makes me want to hold him tight enough to take the pain away. He’s a strong boy and I am proud to know him

5. Another’s shares L word downloads with me and never hesitates to walk upto me and hold me when he knows I’m down. Last night was a classic example. I thought I was going to curl up in a ball and howl. But I didn’t because just before the tears fell, he magically appeared there.

6. My costumes which went back for adjusting were virtually falling off me and I couldn’t really have a proper run through as a result. My fellow Rosie has taken them home for last minute adjustments and I hope I can move around in them properly tonight & tomorrow. We’re both ill and in a foul mood. I can soooo relate.

7. I finish the rehearsal wanting to jump off a cliff and our very own stool breaker comes to sit next to me and tells me it’ll be fine. He’ll bring me a flask and we’ll make this miracle voice cure we’ve been talking about and makes me feel a little better instantly. For someone who thinks he feels awkward in these situations, he did an amazing job. To add to it, he even started blogging yesterday siting Brandix & I as possible inspirations. Read his first post here

8. Even our “evil vocal director” as I call him to everyone who asks how the play is going told me that I sounded really good singing last night. Now I know he was lying because I opened my mouth and not a single note popped out. I appreciate the kindness though, especially with him picking on my bad breathing habits & inability to remember any harmony for the last few months. 

9. I wake up this morning with my voice worse than ever. So in a panic I gulp half a bottle of cough syrup and needless to say, along with my lack of sleep, I now have the shakes. I’m trembling so badly that its taken over an hour to type this post.

10. Absent dropped in to have a smoke with me. Although it was more a case of him not wanting to be at work because of the hype of the production, I really appreciate the company because I was very close to losing it completely this morning. 

11. I have an opening night occurrence that is almost ritualistic for me and is not going to happen with this production because the source of it has become a non-entity. I am going to be really upset when I walk into my dressing room tomorrow as a result.

12. I am contemplating popping into church. That I think is the biggest shocker of all.

13. I’ll end off with an ominous number 13… I’m afraid. I think that’s the biggest issue. A deep, dark sense of fear. Afraid that I’m a crappy ass actress who’ll ruin the show for everyone and sing off key and leave the audience and my fellow cast members disappointed. I need my mojo back. I need my smile back. I need me back. 

I want to end off with a flourish and say “on with the show”… but I just can’t. I’m sorry. 😦

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Thus titled, is a letter Richard Bach writes to his younger self in chapter 2 of The Bridge Across Forever. It reminded me of how we constantly tell ourselves that we wish we knew then what we know now. We’d always be able to handle younger situations better with our older wisdom neh? But I guess that’s just the point. We’d never learn the lesson if things happened that way. Someone asks Richard how he is going to send a letter to 20 years ago? He replies that we all know that at some point time travel will be invented, and when it happens, we’ll have nothing ready to send back in time. So he was concentrating right now on the package and will worry about the delivery later. Amusing.

Anyways that’s not the point of my post. The book I’m reading right now is. Once I had read Jonathan Livingston Seagull when I was 17, I was hooked. A Bach addict, so to say. I’ve read Illusions, the One, the Messiah’s Handbook and many more. But the one book my 17 year old self was really looking for was the one I managed to find this week, purely by chance at Barefoot, 12 years after my search began. Bach believed in soulmates. And he was on a quest to find his. The Bridge Across Forever is the semi-autobiographical tale of how he meets and marries her. Can you imagine with what vigour the my 17 year old self searched every bookstore in Colombo for it? Now its my slightly jaded self whose reading the book, but since I finally managed to find it, I thought, what the heck. I’ve only managed to get through 9 chapters of its 49, but I must admit that it isn’t as cheesy as I thought it would be. 

But I need to add to this story. In 1997, when I first came to know of the existence of this book. Richard Bach and his soulamte, Leslie Parish had been married for 20 years. I was amazed. You know, you hear these stories as a little girl about how some people rarely ever get to meet their soul mates and even if they do it only lasts a fleeting moment, or something as god-awfully corny like that. A few years later, as a working girl, I was online and was reading up on the Bachs and was punched really hard in the gut. They had divorced. So now a doubly jaded I, am reading The Bridge Across Forever. The dash of scepticism as I turn each page increases, I smirk a bit, but I still can’t shake the fact that what I’m reading, I find interesting. Even amusing. A few reluctant laughs escape my throat now and again. Hmmm.

You see, the whole concept of soulmates, even in my jaded kinda view is limited to a piece of fiction now. It’s a classic called Wuthering Heights. You may have heard of it. 😉 The only reason that still holds true for me is probably because it IS fiction. So its an image that has been preserved with no one being able to tarnish it. In the real world, everything’s a tad tarnished, is it not?

Anyway. I’ve only read 9 chapters, like I said. Let me get to the end of my 12 year search and I’ll tell you if I’ve changed my mind.

In the meanwhile, let me leave you with a tiny excerpt from Chapter 1 that caught my attention :

Why should it be that the most advanced of people, whose teachings, twisted into religions, last for centuries, why should it be that they have always been alone?

Why never do we see radiant wives or husbands or miraculous equals with whom they share their adventures and their love? They are surrounded by their disciples and their curious, these few we so admire, they are pressed by those who come to them for healing and light. But how often do we find their soulmates, glorious and powerful beloveds right close by? Sometimes? Once in a while?

I swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

Never. 

The most advanced people, I thought, they’re the ones most alone! 

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Thanks for the tag D.

So what have I done?

  • I’ve learned to be independent
  • I’ve learned that only my dogs understand the language I speak
  • I’ve gone through a series of unfortunate events that even Lemony Snicket can’t compete with
  • I won my first ever medal for athletics (in case you don’t know me, I’m allergic to sports when it comes to anything other than spectatorship)
  • I smiled way too much for my own good
  • I cried for one week straight as a result of my overdose of smiling
  • I realized that I am stronger that I have ever given myself credit for
  • I became a cynic
  • I was kissed senseless for 6 hours straight
  • I shared an apartment with 2 other wonderful people for a while, and loved it.
  • I lost a considerable amount of weight (needed to add something superficial in here)
  • I came out of the closet, not that I was in one to begin with. I just started telling people instead of waiting for them to ask me. (Just for the record, I’m not gay, I’m not straight, I’m not bi-sexual. If I am in love or in intense attraction mode, your gender or sexuality is irrelevant to me and in turn mine should be to you. And ya, that means I might hit on the occasional gay guy as well. 😉 )
  • I’ve come to believe that once you’ve gone through that one big love in your life, everything else that comes your way pales in comparison. (The Darkness was so right when they said that love is only a feeling)
  • I’ve discovered that there’s nothing I’d like to do better than play hooky, sit at home and watch re-runs of just about anything on my couch with loads of food and my babies flopped by my side
  • I have told women in Puttalam how to put a condom on their husbands & helped them to find their erogenous zones
  • I have changed my opinion of lady cops, considering the 2 wonderful female officers I’d sit back and drink my blues away with who I am proud to call my friends.
  • I can say that my biggest, proudest achievement this year was being a part of the Solidarity Gaymes and seeing the whole event come to life despite every single obstacle we faced
  • I never stopped believing in Santa Claus

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