90% Work, 10% Talent

I've been away from home for two weeks. My suitcase broke--okay, okay! It was a duffel and I was tired of carrying it and it sort of broke but not really!--so I bought a new one. It's very, very yellow.

Buying this suitcase was almost giving myself permission to travel, to fully devote myself to the next two weeks. It's bright and happy and aaaalmost the proper size for a carry-on; just a little too big.

I feel that, though, had it been any smaller, it would have been of no use. My duffel was soft and squishy, so I was able to stuff it into an overhead bin. This yellow suitcase does not compromise. And yet it couldn't hold much more than it does now--and I haven't bought anything! Well, one necklace. But that's all! And there were only 3 things that I packed that I did not wear. Go me.

I feel that these two weeks were the right amount of full. Chicago was a cold blur, filled with auditions and potential auditions and seeing people and getting coffee coffee coffee. Fort Collins was a blur of stress and education and a place called "Cafe Vino," and a coffee shop where I broke veganity and ate yogurt with granola. It was very delicious; I hope I don't regret it.

Here at the festival I presented a play of mine and it was very well-received. I had people ranging from student to senior professor coming up and complimenting my work. This is humbling and amazing and, honestly, shocking. I realize how much I miss theatre. Theatre people. Theatre art and inspiration and love and beauty...I need to change my work schedule.

I'm excited and terrified about all the possible options I have. But I have a suitcase now. A bright, bright yellow suitcase.

5:30 PM and I'm...zzzz...

I stayed up too late last night, to the point of the TV being pure infomercials. One seduced me.

When I turned off the light and curled up under my blankets, my brain refused to shut up. I kept thinking of how insane my workout DVDs (freshly ordered) will be, how the Harry Potter series (I'm re-reading them, and am on book 7) are beautiful and heart-breaking, how I had to get up in six, five and a half, five hours, how a large chunk of my graduate school applications are due by January 1st (my top school's application is due the 31st--two days! Two days!), and how the GRE is going to kick my ass.

I don't think I actually slept. I dozed, sure, had twitchy dreams and a grey fuzz over my eyes, but my alarm went off and I wanted to cry. It was my early work-day today. And I had a full day, with clients wanting a plethora of things. One wanted the hour spent on her neck and jaw. Zzz. I did take a name for about 15 minutes when I was on my break. Then I was off work, I got lunch and cider, and came to Starbucks.

I'm falling asleep. My applications are very far from being done. The kids behind me remind me that I don't want kids, that I don't like kids, and that kids are really annoying.

Tomorrow I'm getting up even earlier so I can take the GRE. I'm very glad that not many of my applications want it; I have a feeling the math section is going to shove me in a blender and drink me for lunch.

Would it be inappropriate if I took a nap here in this church-carpet-orange chair?

Academic Regret

A week or so after I graduated with my B.A. in English, I mentioned to my mom that I didn't feel satisfied with my college experience. I didn't, and don't, feel like I should be congratulated on graduating; my GPA and my areas of study have left me feeling unacademic, uneducated, unprepared, and unsatisfied. Look at the above sentences: the tenses are all screwy.

This isn't to say that I didn't learn anything; I learned a hell of a lot. My critical thinking capabilities expanded immensely and it seems I left the educational nest right when I learned how tall the tree was--not when I learned I wasn't actually a bird. Weeeee...

With many things, I try to look back and say, "No, I wouldn't do it differently; I learned and grew and became the person I am through that experience." Well currently I feel that's bullshit. I don't like the academic person I am now, and I blame that on how I behaved in college. "Try grad school!" they say. Yes, I plan to, as soon as I figure out what I want to spend 3 years and thousands of dollars on, and if I can actually get into those programs.

I know there are very few do-overs in life, so I'll phrase my answer thus: if I were to go back for another bachelor's degree, I would major in humanities and minor in philosophy and art.

I want to be able to analyze my world and think for myself. I want to be intelligent, ie, how I perceive intelligence (basically, great reasoning & logic skills). Of course, actually putting down humanities, philosophy and art make me think of all the other things I would like to study; I could be a perpetual student and perhaps never have my academic hunger sated.