After 33 years in my body, you think I would be used to my mood swings. Actually, I think they're more like mood gales, batten down the hatches when you see a squall coming. My moods are like March, my least favourite month. March has a hint of the military (hup one, two, three, four) usually contains a confusing holiday weekend that has something to do with a full moon and rising from the dead but is somehow represented by pastel eggs and bunnies. March has cherry blossoms and daffodils outside my window - but it also has me worrying if they will survive the inevitable cold drenching rain. March is cutting class on Monday to walk out in the sunshine in my t-shirt - and wool tights and my heavy jacket on Tuesday. March is having to still find new recipes for kale and turnips while dreaming of something a little less earthy. March is 3 people I love having their birthday in the first few days of the month and ALWAYS forgetting until I turn the calendar page and ALWAYS sending their cards late. Thus, March is guilt. March now means my daily trudge to the mailbox is fraught with anxiety and disappointment when there is only a dental cleaning reminder and a Dell catalogue in the box. Waiting for all the grad school decisions and options to come in is frightening as what the reality of having to go out-of-state means financially dawns on me (dude, Canada doesn't play that bullshitty "out-of-state" concept and I guess you just have to hope your state is well-endowed in the academic department -and I love you Oregon but you are not) and moving and all that stuff just piles up and suddenly it is a cold March day. Yesterday I worked 8 hours straight on a "creative response" to Fellini's 8 1/2 (a paper doll set with all the various women's roles represented which actually turned out pretty well - Dear Universe, if I am reincarnated,please bring me back looking like Anouk Aimee in this film, please and thank you), then worked and went to class and more class and heard that I may be waitlisted for my top choice school, they'll get back to me about that, and then my ego kind of collapsed, which is apt, given that it is a rather shaky house of cards built atop a yawning black cavern of bad decisions and doubt. When sad, I then like to start listing every stupid, ridiculous thing I've done, tasks and people I've failed, the usual litany, which TOTALLY helps me feel better. I was deep in this mode yesterday when I stumbled home from school, discovered my ANTM tape was screwed because the sound on that channel was alll crazy (is it just me or are you having trouble finding a girl to cheer for?) so turned on PBS - and there was Rolling Stones Rock n' Roll Circus at the EXACT moment The Who were launching into one of my favourite 60's mini-opera's ever "A Quick One (While He's Away)" and the combo of Pete Townsends thin funny face and blue blue eyes and Keith Moon's young sweet face and open-mouthed happiness at like, being alive or something, as they crash into the final act where they sing "you are forgiven" over and over....that is as close as I will ever get to a sign from God or a benediction I think. Yes, it made me feel that good. From depths to heights - that's March for you.

If you do watch this, it's long, but stick around for the final 2 minutes, it's worth it.