I went outdoors properly for the first time in months. People keep asking if the cabin fever has gotten to me, but the truth is, I’m one of those people who sits exactly on the center of the introvert/extrovert scale – I’m extremely social, but also extremely solitary. Going into lockdown wasn’t hard for me because of the lack of social interaction, it was hard because of the cold-hearted crushing of my new york hopes and dreams, thanks corona.
I honestly didn’t expect to ever be back on a set again, especially since I moved away and the media’s memory is decidedly goldfish-like (unless you make a public mistake, in which case, you will nEVER LIVE IT DOWN) but I was invited to appear in a Hada Labo skincare ad! I walked into the studio and announced ‘hi everyone i havent had a proper conversation in months so i might have forgotten how to be a normal person’. Thankfully it went over fine.
That was all good. The thing that was unexpected was my body’s completely melodramatic reaction to the sun. I suppose sitting near a window occasionally does not count as sun exposure, because after a brief, uncovered stroll to buy a coffee, I felt all the energy slide out of me, and melt into the pavement. The same when I went to do my hair, the day before the shoot. The word is sapped. Sapped! I went home and was knocked out cold.
When I woke up again it was basically nine pm. I was so shocked. My entire day evaporated, just like that. Worse: I sat down to start work, and started yawning. Nonstop. It seems the sun has destroyed me. I shouldn’t be shocked, given my long standing antagonistic history with the sun (see: heat rash, also, living on the equator). But I am.
Random segue to say that I have two reviews out for the Columbia Journal and that I dyed my hair ash purple and blue.
Actually come to think of it a lot has happened these few days. And yet, things stay the same, more or less.
“Review: Real Life” – Columbia Journal (Non Fiction, Online, 2020)
“Review: Little Eyes” – Columbia Journal (Non Fiction, Online, 2020)
& said blue/ purple hair.
Y’all, I can’t stop yawning. And neat closures are the domain of the clear-headed. Goodnight.