Changes

I wake up and I’m somewhere new.
No cold window at my back, no shock of dark hair attached to a shapeless form in front of me.
The smells are different, the colors are different, my thoughts are different.

No dragging feet and hurried notes on the board.
No texts and phone calls to convey the bullet-pointed version of my day.
No more coming home and hiding from one another behind illuminated screens, our casually empty conversation barely reaching each other’s ears (let alone each other’s hearts).

The world has opened itself up to me, and I breathe it in.
With each breath I take, the memories become less familiar, until I am left with only those that are fond.

Because one should never forget what was, even after it’s over.
I regret nothing, because to regret it would be to turn those fond memories into lies.
And they weren’t lies. They were real, they were true, and they were my life.
Three whole years of my life.

But my life isn’t over now.
It’s new, it’s changed.
It’s colorful and eventful and wonderful.
It’s hopeful and bursting at the seams with possibility.
And it’s all for me.

I’ll take the roads west and sleep in cars and tents.
I’ll paint my walls and I’ll eat vegetables and I’ll use up all the closet space.
I’ll host parties and have sleepovers and sometimes I won’t come home.

And maybe one day we’ll meet again with new faces on.
We’ll talk and we’ll laugh and we’ll pause when we sink into our own thoughts.
And we’ll walk away with light hearts and clear minds,
And mouths twisted into smiles.

Meaningful Connections

Chop Suey by Edward Hopper

I know I said I was taking a break from my normal rambling posts, but I have a bit of a break today, so I figured I'd throw some stuff out there for you all to think about.

For the past week or so, I've been acutely aware of just how bad our generation is at communication. The seems pretty ironic to me, considering the fact that we are almost constantly communicating with each other via texting, email, etc.

But here's the funny thing. Despite all of that (or, more likely, because of it) people are having a harder and harder time actually talking to each other. Yes, I mean in person. And even just on the phone! 

I could spend half the day texting the same people, and when I see them in person they have nothing to say. Or, when people decide to actually be social, they go to parties and start drinking before they feel comfortable enough to have meaningful conversations. And even then, they might see each other the next day and not say a word.

And god forbid anyone ever picks up the phone and actually calls anyone anymore. Why not just text an entire novel?

This past Sunday I met my friend Rebecca at a coffee shop and we sat there and talked for four hours. Not texting, not emailing, not facebooking, not doing any other activity that might fill in potentially awkward silences. Just talking. And it was so refreshing just to be sitting there with another human being interacting in a natural way. And after I left I realized just how little time I spend doing that nowadays.

All my social interaction for the past few months has consisted of going to parties, chatting on facebook, having brief conversations in the hallways, and inviting people over to play Super Smash brothers, or Monopoly, or card games. And while that's all fun enough, there's only so much you can learn about a person by becoming familiar with he way they think and react in those situations.

When Rebecca and I were in that cafe, we didn't just talk about books and boys (although they were a good chunk of our conversation), we talked about where we came from, what our families were like, our hopes and fears for our respective futures. 

Think about it. When is that last time you sat down with someone and tried to learn all you could about them in one conversation? How well do you really know the people you see every day?

Here's what I'm going to do about this in my life: I'm going to notice the people around me-- those that I see often-- and I'm going to make an effort to actually get to know them. I'm going to ask about their lives and their pasts and their dreams and their interests.

And maybe it won't work and people will just think I'm a bit of a creep. But maybe it will, and maybe all these connections will become more meaningful as a result.

Drake Diaries

After my recent bout of writer's block, I decided I'm going to take a break from writing about my random thoughts for a while. Instead, I present to you...

Drake Diaries:

A series of moments in everyone's favorite theatre building

as written by... well, me.

Are you excited? I know I am. They'll range from beautiful narratives, to quirky comedies, to soap opera style dramas. Here's one from last night:

Drake Diaries: "Snowfall"

It's early January, and it is snowing. Ordinarily this wouldn't seem so special, but the ground hasn't been this white since Christmas. Without the snow, the bitter cold and sharp winds seem a little too cruel.

The tables that sit outside the box office are all empty, save one. That's where I sit, gazing thoughtfully out at the newly-frozen river, watching the snow drift downward in little white clumps. It's nearly dark, and everything beyond the glass in front of me is cast in a purplish glow-- from the deep indigo of the trees by the riverbank, to the eerie lilac gray of the cloud-covered sky. Beyond the trees I can see a string of headlights: commuters fighting their way home through the rough weather.

A couple people walk by, snapping me out of my reverie. I check the time: five minutes until six. I sigh, wishing that I'd had a bit more time to slow down before diving back into motion. From classes in the morning, to work in the afternoon, to rehearsals in the evening and into the night... I barely have time to blink before I'm onto the next task.

Three minutes to six. I better get going.

I make my way down the stairs to room 107. As I walk in, I feel a small pang of guilt as I realize that the other ASMs are nearly done setting up already. I drop my bag and my coat on the wooden bench by the door and I immediately begin to help. Just as we finish setting up the chairs, Jimmy walks in and explains that he'd like the room to be arranged differently tonight.

Before he even gets the chance to apologize, the three of us begin to shift chairs and fold up tables. When we are done, I sink into my own chair to see what's in store for us. After Margaret explains what needs to get done right away, I glance over my shoulder out the window behind me to see that the snow is still falling. This is going to be a long night.

Writer's Block

I was so excited to be able to come home for lunch today. Not because I actually get to sit down and chill for a while, or even because I don't have to spend my limited college kid dollars on something greasy from the PAD. Actually, it was because I've been going non-stop for days, and there have been so many thoughts racing through my head that I've been itching to write down.

But as I sat down with my nice cozy blanket and my laptop I drew a big, fat, ugly blank.

It's not as if I don't remember what I intended to write about. In fact, I have a whole list of things written down. (Yeah, I'm that ridiculous about it.) But for whatever reason, the right words aren't coming to me. It's a good old fashioned case of writer's block.

I can only assume that this is my brain's way of telling me that it's too busy worrying about everything else that still needs to get done to come up with something creative and interesting to say. So all I have to say is; well played, brain. Well played.

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions.

It's that time of year again: when everyone starts making promises to themselves to do something different. Work out more, procrastinate less. Keep a closer eye on finances, be more spontaneous, maintain a 4.0 GPA. Volunteer for a cause, help a person in need. Become generally more attractive, more healthy, more responsible, and most importantly, more happy.

And then after a few days, weeks, or (if you're really desperate) months you start to lose momentum, and eventually just fall back into your old habits. i.e. being generally less attractive, less healthy, less responsible, and less happy than you intended to be.

And what have you gained? Probably not a whole lot.

I think the problem isn't that people set goals that are unrealistic, but rather that they're setting these goals half-heartedly, and for the wrong reasons. Rather than trying to improve themselves for the sake of their happiness and well being, they take the ideal version of themselves and promise to become that person because they were too lazy/unmotivated/busy/distracted to do it beforehand. And they think that because it's a new year, everything will be different all of a sudden. That it's some sort of chance to "start over."

But it's just another day. And aside from all the hype and celebration, nothing really changes. So this whole "New Year's resolution" thing is just something that makes people think they're going to improve their lives without actually having to put forth the effort to do it.

I'm constantly trying to better myself as a person. I try to be kinder, healthier, more confident, more generous, more courageous, more everything. But this is something I do and think about all year. It has nothing to do with dates and new beginnings. It's really not even about setting goals and working toward them. It's about waking up each day and doing it all better than I did the previous day.

So really, I don't have any New Year's resolutions. Because there's nothing that I want to do that I'm not already in the process of doing. There's nothing about me that I want to change that I'm not already trying to change. And so far it's all been working out pretty well.

xo