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I admit it. I’ve been in a pretty bad mood lately. I know this for sure when people who have teeny weeny dogs sitting on the patio at Starbucks, who speak to those mutant things like they are newborns, make me want to walk over to them and slap them. The person that is, not the dog, although I’m really only saying that as an attempt at being P.C.
When their mommy leaves them for a second to grab her Matcha Latte, and after the mutant has practically turned itself inside out, its nail filing bark getting on my last nerve and making me want to bite my own hand, mommy returns always oblivious and gushing. I know I probably have some friends like this, in fact, I can think of two without much effort, perfectly nice people, but honestly. Really? You’re not kidding are you? I ask you, Who needs a leash now?
It made me begin to think (based on perusing too many magazines trying to think of how to write a query for an article I wouldn’t even want to write), what tips I might give myself and anyone else for getting out of a bad mood. I mean, women’s magazines seem to thrive on Top 10 lists or Twitter in Print as I like to call them, as if the whole world is a Tony Robbins conspiracy and the adult female attention span hasn’t shifted since we were all six years old, which in my case, may actually be true. Here’s my list.
TOP TEN BAD MOOD BUSTERS
- Go somewhere you’ve never been before. That way you’ll trick yourself into believing that you haven’t seen and done everything there is to do in the Lower Mainland even though you believe that you have because you’re in a bad mood and that’s how you think when you’re like this.
- Walk into the Vancouver Public Library and take an immediate left to peruse the zines on the main floor. Hone in on the funny ones with really hilarious (read RUDE) commentary. Here’s one in particular that really cheered me up. Mary Van Note’s Guide to Dating. I especially loved Tip #9. No, I’m not going to share it. This is a G-rated Blog. I also took out, I was a Teenage Mormon, Fat is Beautiful, Women Got me Drinking and Coffee shop Crushes.
- Remind yourself what your favourite over the top treat was when you were a kid and eat it. Mine was a Peanut Buster Parfait from Dairy Queen. Now, at this point, I need a Peanut Buster Parfait as much as the whole world needs canned tuna but you know what? Screw it. Fat is beautiful. Repeat it out loud. It’s an exercise from the zine above. Acceptance is the fastest route out of anger and denial.
- Have sex. No. Correction. Not just sex but good sex. A critical distinction. Bad sex is worse than no sex which describes my rationale for celibacy ever since oh, I don’t know, the age of 39 or thereabouts. (This may or may not be accurate). Okay, so have sex with yourself.
- Drink. Beer preferably. Not Lucky Lager mind you. Just sayin. Here’s beer-loving Gwen’s current fav’s: Driftwood (Victoria, BC), New Belgium (Fort Collins, CO), Elysian Brewing (Seattle, WA).
- Go for a walk if you must. Wear dark sunglasses to dim the ugly. The problem with returning from Paradise to here, where I am at present, is that my soul’s eyes have been distorted by the overwhelming natural beauty that was Paradise and call me crazy but lines of commuter traffic backed up to get onto two bridges and a really big Toy Wooden Soldier as a failed tourist attraction pale in comparison.
- Yarn bomb. Pick a place and give a railing a sweater. If anyone’s game, I have a bunch of really ugly railings right outside my apartment windows and I’d love someone to yarn bomb them, preferably in Sunburst yellow. I’m just not sure how my landlord, the former prison guard, will feel about this. He doesn’t fit the profile of a crafting enthusiast. You’re on your own when it comes to him.
- Go find the dorkiest pictures of yourself as a kid. Remind yourself that, no matter how hard this is to believe, you actually look better now than you did then. See, you’re improving with age. Sort of. Smile.
- Think about all the times you’ve had a really spectacular public wipe-out, the humiliation that resulted, and how much joy in the form of gales of snort-filled laughter this gave you after the fact.
- Take a pill.