I survived the attack of the giant truck. He’s behind me now gesticulating rudely in my direction resembling an angry deaf person. I pretend to be an angry blind person and ignore him. I’m only a few kilometres from home and things are looking up.
I think I’m one of those people who function well under stress. My mind clears and becomes ready to make quick decisions, like out-manoeuvring oncoming trucks. I am so pumped with adrenaline that I envision myself in a Wonder Woman costume driving in a reasonably priced car on the Top Gear track with The Stig nodding in approval at my driving expertise.
Saturday:
I heard through the grapevine that a casting director for a soap opera is in town. I had to do some serious networking. I planned to meet the casting director at 10h15. After doing some serious facial panel-beating at 6h00 in the morning and applying a whole tube of Preparation-H on the bags under my eyes, I headed out to town. I was tired. My age was showing. I have had late nights performing and rehearsing all week. I decided to arrive early at the casting studio, because I had a class to teach at the local university at 11h30, which is on the other side of the city. I arrived at 9h30. Nobody was there. The building was still locked. It was cold outside.
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Lack of sleep.
2. Not knowing how long I will have to wait.
3. Worrying about being punctual for my class.
4. I’m freezing. Isn’t it supposed to be summer?
Solution: Breathe.
Meanwhile young girls started to arrive. Each one, on arrival, looked at me as if I was from another planet. (Okay, so I am, but that’s not the point.) One girl even asked me if I worked here. Honestly! At last, at about 10h10, a production assistant arrived. She looked at me with a quizzical expression.
“The casting director is running a little bit late, but we are only casting women between the ages of 25 and 35.”
“I’ll wait.” I replied confidently. Why did she give me the age run-down? Do I look old?
“But…” I did not wait for her to finish and followed her into the building, followed by the gaggle of hopeful twenty-something auditionees.
The casting director arrived at 11h00. I had half an hour to get to the university and have not met with anyone of importance yet that could be beneficial to my career.
Stress level: High
Cause: 1. I knew I was going to be late for my class and then
2. My students will think that I am not coming, and being students
3. They will leave, and then
4. I will be in trouble with the HOD, and
5. My contract for next year might not be renewed, and
6. If I drive too fast I will get a speeding fine, and then
7. My whole day will be ruined.
Solution: Boefie get a grip! None of this has happened yet. Focus!
Eventually I saw a gap and took it and found myself in front of the casting director. The evil assistant gave me another dirty look. Time was tight, but I needed to do this.
“Hi, I’m Boefie Bronkhorst, sorry to barge in like this, but here is my business-card and if you want to have a look at my CV you can call my agent, or call me, my number is on the card, but I have to go now because I am teaching a drama class at the university and my class starts in ten minutes. Bye!”
I dashed off, dove into my car and did some serious low-flying all the way to the university.
Stress factor level: High
Cause: Time
Solution: Don’t anticipate. You cannot predict the future and once you stop to smell those proverbial roses you will find that you can be master of your own destiny and find solutions. I sound like Sophocles, but then again, maybe our destiny is in the hands of the gods…or maybe not… Just be prepared to carry the consequences of your choices.
While speeding along the M3 I phoned the head of the Art department. “I’monmywaypleasetellmyclasstowaitsorryI’mrunninglate!”
My class was waiting for me when I got there. I love them!
As I drive into my drive-way, I feel my stress level subsiding. I survived the traffic! I’m home at last. Stress can be destructive. At one stage I contemplated murder, but not having a lethal weapon in my car, only a cigarette lighter, I found myself contemplating arson. I quickly snapped out of that fantasy as I visualised myself getting arrested for something as silly as arson, and then being forced to wear an unflattering orange prison overall. Orange is sooo not my colour.
After the class I drove back to Planet Gorgeous, exhausted, I had to get into costume and make-up for the 21st birthday party gig with Belg. But that’s another story…
Stress factor level: What stress?
Reason: I live on Planet Gorgeous.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Stress Factor Part 4
Traffic. Still. I switch on the radio. Maybe the DJ will play a happy song! Maybe he will be funny! No. He’s playing an intelligible pop song. “Boom boom boom!!” What is this? Have they run out of vocabulary? Oh, wait! This next bit sounds like actual English words. I identify “chickens jackin’ my style”. What? I don’t understand this. What does this mean? “yalstu n super 8 shit… lofistupi apeshit…ionat HD fat?…flat…Boom Boom…” I’m confused. New language? New jargon? New technology? Is this song written in a code that only Robert Langdon can crack? I’m stressing out! Have I missed a generation? Where have I been? Does everybody talk like this? I suddenly feel old. No wonder nobody understands the younger generation. I doubt they understand each other, and they say “shit” a lot.
When did people stop speaking the Queen’s English? When did things become so complicated? I can now understand why some of the stress symptoms include weight gain and substance abuse. I’m in my car, stuck in traffic, listening to a song I don’t understand with a fast tempo that makes my heart palpitate. I need a drink! I need chocolate!
Thursday:
Performance day.
When I arrived at the theatre, the stage manager was still running around looking for furniture to dress the set, the actor playing my husband was stuck in traffic and I only have one ‘daughter’ now instead of two. The little rubber thingy of the heel of one of the shoes I was supposed to wear as part of my costume broke off, which resulted in having to walk with a noisy limp.
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. No time to get new shoes due to
2. Costume malfunction.
3. Late ‘husband’.
Solution: The show must go on. Aaaaargh!!!!!
My ‘husband’ arrived at last and we could do a run-though. While Feral was giving us last comments and bits of final direction, the television crew arrived and started to set up. The film director gave Feral directions on how the play will be filmed, which he in turn gave to us.
New challenge: Play to the audience as well as the cameras. We had new marks to hit and new angles to work into our stage performance – which has become a film performance as well.
Stress factor level: Low
Cause: I love a challenge!
Wait a second! Let me think about that…
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Not sure how I’m going to pull this off.
2. Do I ‘underplay for the camera?
3. Should I play to the audience and look like I’m overacting for the camera? 4. I might be wearing too much makeup.
“Feral!” I screamed, totally confused, “What are my priorities?”
“Just act for your audience. The film-crew will do close-ups afterwards.”
Stress factor level: Medium
Cause: 1. Close-ups!
2. Hooray! I love close-ups!
3. I’m ready Mr. De Mille!
The traffic is moving steadily now. At last it looks like we’re making congestion progress. Thinking about stress is stressing me out, but so far this week I have managed to handle stressful situations by smiling, communicating with people, having time out (drinking champagne), being positive, and enjoying what I do. Those little foxes nipping at my heels can be kicked in the mouth. So far so good.
Friday:
Rehearsal with Belg Droller for a 21st Birthday party gig on Saturday.
Stress factor level: Medium
Cause: 1. Not giving a shit what 21-year olds think about two aging performers strutting their stuff.
2. We may be old, but we are still getting gigs.
Why is this bloody truck trying to push its way in front of me? Honestly! Do they own the road? I did not see this coming because I was multitasking: driving; listening to disconcerting pop songs, trying to analyse the lyrics; thinking about stress (and becoming more stressed out by the minute); and lighting a cigarette. I’m female. I can multitask. Maybe I should focus on not getting killed by this truck, though. Maybe.
To be continued…
END OF PART 4
When did people stop speaking the Queen’s English? When did things become so complicated? I can now understand why some of the stress symptoms include weight gain and substance abuse. I’m in my car, stuck in traffic, listening to a song I don’t understand with a fast tempo that makes my heart palpitate. I need a drink! I need chocolate!
Thursday:
Performance day.
When I arrived at the theatre, the stage manager was still running around looking for furniture to dress the set, the actor playing my husband was stuck in traffic and I only have one ‘daughter’ now instead of two. The little rubber thingy of the heel of one of the shoes I was supposed to wear as part of my costume broke off, which resulted in having to walk with a noisy limp.
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. No time to get new shoes due to
2. Costume malfunction.
3. Late ‘husband’.
Solution: The show must go on. Aaaaargh!!!!!
My ‘husband’ arrived at last and we could do a run-though. While Feral was giving us last comments and bits of final direction, the television crew arrived and started to set up. The film director gave Feral directions on how the play will be filmed, which he in turn gave to us.
New challenge: Play to the audience as well as the cameras. We had new marks to hit and new angles to work into our stage performance – which has become a film performance as well.
Stress factor level: Low
Cause: I love a challenge!
Wait a second! Let me think about that…
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Not sure how I’m going to pull this off.
2. Do I ‘underplay for the camera?
3. Should I play to the audience and look like I’m overacting for the camera? 4. I might be wearing too much makeup.
“Feral!” I screamed, totally confused, “What are my priorities?”
“Just act for your audience. The film-crew will do close-ups afterwards.”
Stress factor level: Medium
Cause: 1. Close-ups!
2. Hooray! I love close-ups!
3. I’m ready Mr. De Mille!
The traffic is moving steadily now. At last it looks like we’re making congestion progress. Thinking about stress is stressing me out, but so far this week I have managed to handle stressful situations by smiling, communicating with people, having time out (drinking champagne), being positive, and enjoying what I do. Those little foxes nipping at my heels can be kicked in the mouth. So far so good.
Friday:
Rehearsal with Belg Droller for a 21st Birthday party gig on Saturday.
Stress factor level: Medium
Cause: 1. Not giving a shit what 21-year olds think about two aging performers strutting their stuff.
2. We may be old, but we are still getting gigs.
Why is this bloody truck trying to push its way in front of me? Honestly! Do they own the road? I did not see this coming because I was multitasking: driving; listening to disconcerting pop songs, trying to analyse the lyrics; thinking about stress (and becoming more stressed out by the minute); and lighting a cigarette. I’m female. I can multitask. Maybe I should focus on not getting killed by this truck, though. Maybe.
To be continued…
END OF PART 4
Friday, December 4, 2009
Stress Factor Part 3
Still in traffic. The old lady eventually changed lanes, but decided to stay in first gear. I wondered about her stress levels. Is her life brimmed with meetings, bills and family crises? Do her children visit her on weekends? Does she need a hip replacement? Does she know that she cannot drive? Is she aware that the man in the car behind her might lose his mind and kill her?
Calm down, Boefie! The traffic is getting to you! I have to focus. I’m talking to myself. Am I experiencing symptoms of stress?
Now what happened on Tuesday? Oh, yes…
Tuesday:
Production meeting with Feral Beast regarding the play we are doing. Feral is directing. I am acting. We’re performing on Thursday and a television crew will be filming the production. We still had to finalise the set, props and costumes and one of the girls playing “one of my two daughters” fell ill. Where do we find a replacement at such short notice? Should we change the script?
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Possibility of having new lines and stage directions to learn on short notice.
2. We are performing in two days time!
My stress levels seem to be increasing by the minute as motorcycles weave their way though the standstill traffic. Hey! Biker! Don’t scratch my car! Why aren’t we moving?
Okay Boefie, think. What are the symptoms of stress? Headaches? No, I don’t have a headache, but I’m sure I will have one soon, as all this thinking about stress in the traffic might be the onset of one major migraine. Muscle pain? Yes! I’ve been sitting in the car now for half an hour. Depression? Not yet. I hope not. No, never… Am I causing my own stress?
I want to be at home, but I can’t get there. Oh…at last…we’re moving…slowly…
Wednesday:
Play rehearsal. The actor playing my husband did not know his lines. We also might be getting a replacement for the sick child actor. Big “might”. Feral was trying to stay calm.
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Worrying about Feral, he seems on the verge of cracking.
2. Possibility of having new lines and stage directions to learn on short notice.
After the rehearsal I had to do a gig with Donnyo, so I got dressed in full costume and make-up and rushed to the venue.
Stress factor level: Medium
Cause: 1. Unfamiliarity with the type of person that will make up the audience.
2. Possibility that there might not actually even BE an audience.
Thank Goodness it was a full house and of course the audience loved us.
Stress factor level: Low
Cause:
1. Adoration
2. Attention
3. Compliments from strangers
Reason: There’s no business like show business.
Oh, no! They closed a lane because of roadworks! We all have to squeeze into two lanes and some people are just not courteous. Selfish bastards! Hey! Male chauvinist pig! I need to get in a lane!
I think I’m experiencing other symptoms of stress: Irritability, anger and negativity. What is happening to me? You won’t find these symptoms on Planet Gorgeous, only in traffic or the workplace or when you peruse your bank account or when your daughter comes home with a stud in her tongue …
I calmly, and with a smile, indicate to the young man in the car next to me that I want to go in front of him. Oh, thank you kind sir ((Massive batting of eyelashes)). Thank god I’m blonde and gorgeous and he’s young and impressionable.
And then Thursday happened…
To be continued…
END OF PART 3
Calm down, Boefie! The traffic is getting to you! I have to focus. I’m talking to myself. Am I experiencing symptoms of stress?
Now what happened on Tuesday? Oh, yes…
Tuesday:
Production meeting with Feral Beast regarding the play we are doing. Feral is directing. I am acting. We’re performing on Thursday and a television crew will be filming the production. We still had to finalise the set, props and costumes and one of the girls playing “one of my two daughters” fell ill. Where do we find a replacement at such short notice? Should we change the script?
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Possibility of having new lines and stage directions to learn on short notice.
2. We are performing in two days time!
My stress levels seem to be increasing by the minute as motorcycles weave their way though the standstill traffic. Hey! Biker! Don’t scratch my car! Why aren’t we moving?
Okay Boefie, think. What are the symptoms of stress? Headaches? No, I don’t have a headache, but I’m sure I will have one soon, as all this thinking about stress in the traffic might be the onset of one major migraine. Muscle pain? Yes! I’ve been sitting in the car now for half an hour. Depression? Not yet. I hope not. No, never… Am I causing my own stress?
I want to be at home, but I can’t get there. Oh…at last…we’re moving…slowly…
Wednesday:
Play rehearsal. The actor playing my husband did not know his lines. We also might be getting a replacement for the sick child actor. Big “might”. Feral was trying to stay calm.
Stress factor level: High
Cause: 1. Worrying about Feral, he seems on the verge of cracking.
2. Possibility of having new lines and stage directions to learn on short notice.
After the rehearsal I had to do a gig with Donnyo, so I got dressed in full costume and make-up and rushed to the venue.
Stress factor level: Medium
Cause: 1. Unfamiliarity with the type of person that will make up the audience.
2. Possibility that there might not actually even BE an audience.
Thank Goodness it was a full house and of course the audience loved us.
Stress factor level: Low
Cause:
1. Adoration
2. Attention
3. Compliments from strangers
Reason: There’s no business like show business.
Oh, no! They closed a lane because of roadworks! We all have to squeeze into two lanes and some people are just not courteous. Selfish bastards! Hey! Male chauvinist pig! I need to get in a lane!
I think I’m experiencing other symptoms of stress: Irritability, anger and negativity. What is happening to me? You won’t find these symptoms on Planet Gorgeous, only in traffic or the workplace or when you peruse your bank account or when your daughter comes home with a stud in her tongue …
I calmly, and with a smile, indicate to the young man in the car next to me that I want to go in front of him. Oh, thank you kind sir ((Massive batting of eyelashes)). Thank god I’m blonde and gorgeous and he’s young and impressionable.
And then Thursday happened…
To be continued…
END OF PART 3
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Stress Factor Part 2
Monday:
I spent the morning running errands in order to facilitate smooth operations on Planet Gorgeous. I couldn’t find parking close to the bank and shouted at a man in a delivery van holding up the traffic in the parking area. “Use the loading zone you senseless man with box!” (Translate to Afrikaans for the full effect.)
Stress factor level: medium.
Cause: 1. Time wasted looking for parking.
2. Idiots.
Standing in the queue waiting to use the auto teller, I became a bit anxious because it started to feel like I was standing there for an eternity…aging rapidly…so I eventually went inside the bank to get out of the gale force wind, where I was greeted by the friendly faces of Sillon and Dhirley, the Forex people. As I had no transactions regarding their department, I chatted for a while and then went back to the auto teller to draw some money.
Stress factor level: Low.
Cause: Unexpected smiling.
When I got home I worked on learning my words for a play I am doing directed by Feral Beast.
Stress factor level: Medium.
Cause: 1. Inability to remember lines due to
2. Menopause
Solution: 1. Patience.
2. Wait for memory to return and hot flush to disappear.
3. Do something creative, like
4. Hang fairy lights in front of the windows, and
5. Restyle hairpieces.
Later that afternoon I rehearsed a few songs with my brother, Donnyo, for a show we were going to do on Wednesday night.
Stress factor level: Low.
Cause: 1. Self-medication in the form of
2. Champagne.
Monday wasn’t so bad. Smiles from friendly people, champagne and handling menopause can alleviate stress.
Inching slowly forward in the traffic, my train of thought was abruptly broken. Cars were hooting. Drivers were shouting obscenities and gesticulating inappropriately. An old lady in a big car was trying to change lanes. I could see the stress on the people’s faces. I could feel their fear. These motorists probably all have jobs, family, financial and social pressures. All of us in the four lanes of sardine traffic wanted to get to our planets as quickly as possible, but we are stuck in a situation beyond our control. I smiled at the angry man in the car next to mine. A brave gesture on my part, because he could be the one with the baseball bat in the boot or the loaded pistol under his car seat. He looked at me for a few seconds and then looked back in front of him. No reaction. Oh, come on! I wasn’t trying to pick you up, asshole! I was just trying to alleviate your stress level! Sheesh.
To be continued…
END OF PART 2
I spent the morning running errands in order to facilitate smooth operations on Planet Gorgeous. I couldn’t find parking close to the bank and shouted at a man in a delivery van holding up the traffic in the parking area. “Use the loading zone you senseless man with box!” (Translate to Afrikaans for the full effect.)
Stress factor level: medium.
Cause: 1. Time wasted looking for parking.
2. Idiots.
Standing in the queue waiting to use the auto teller, I became a bit anxious because it started to feel like I was standing there for an eternity…aging rapidly…so I eventually went inside the bank to get out of the gale force wind, where I was greeted by the friendly faces of Sillon and Dhirley, the Forex people. As I had no transactions regarding their department, I chatted for a while and then went back to the auto teller to draw some money.
Stress factor level: Low.
Cause: Unexpected smiling.
When I got home I worked on learning my words for a play I am doing directed by Feral Beast.
Stress factor level: Medium.
Cause: 1. Inability to remember lines due to
2. Menopause
Solution: 1. Patience.
2. Wait for memory to return and hot flush to disappear.
3. Do something creative, like
4. Hang fairy lights in front of the windows, and
5. Restyle hairpieces.
Later that afternoon I rehearsed a few songs with my brother, Donnyo, for a show we were going to do on Wednesday night.
Stress factor level: Low.
Cause: 1. Self-medication in the form of
2. Champagne.
Monday wasn’t so bad. Smiles from friendly people, champagne and handling menopause can alleviate stress.
Inching slowly forward in the traffic, my train of thought was abruptly broken. Cars were hooting. Drivers were shouting obscenities and gesticulating inappropriately. An old lady in a big car was trying to change lanes. I could see the stress on the people’s faces. I could feel their fear. These motorists probably all have jobs, family, financial and social pressures. All of us in the four lanes of sardine traffic wanted to get to our planets as quickly as possible, but we are stuck in a situation beyond our control. I smiled at the angry man in the car next to mine. A brave gesture on my part, because he could be the one with the baseball bat in the boot or the loaded pistol under his car seat. He looked at me for a few seconds and then looked back in front of him. No reaction. Oh, come on! I wasn’t trying to pick you up, asshole! I was just trying to alleviate your stress level! Sheesh.
To be continued…
END OF PART 2
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