Tick tock

It's funny how time plays tricks on us. I remember very vividly walking around Douglas Freeman High School on my first day of freshman year. "The next 4 years are going to fly by," I thought to myself. How is it that it feels like I just had that thought when this day has been slowly dragging on? Why is it that years go faster than the 50 minute Cell Bio lecture that I go to 3 days a week?

Yes, they say time flies when you're having fun. I suppose that's true, but what also makes it fly? Staying busy? In a couple weeks, I will be bombarded with papers, speeches, tests, preparing for graduation, preparing for nursing school, and trying to keep my anxiety at bay while I memorize lines and songs as my first lead in a musical. And after those hectic weeks, in the blink of an eye I'll be wearing that stupid looking cap and gown and shaking the hand of Dr. Cormier.

I feel old. How is that? I'm only 21, but I guess I am about to have some real accomplishments under my belt. With a college degree and continuing my education, I'm on the road to being a true adult, and a successful one at that. The only problem? I still feel 16 years old. I keep wondering when I will be able to view myself as a real citizen of society, a person of substance, an inhabitant of the working world. Maybe it will be when I move out of my parents' house. Maybe it will be when I go to work every day in a hospital that supplies me with a hefty check regularly. Maybe it will be when I have a ring on my finger or an infant inside of me. Or maybe I'll always feel like a kid. I guess there are worse things.

Until then, I'll keep an eye on that clock, hoping it to slow down so I can finish all of this work, enjoy the rest of my college life, and enjoy being young. Or maybe I want it to speed up so I can get on with my adult life and feel independent for the first time.

That's the funny thing about time. It doesn't really matter what I want it to do. It's still going to keep on ticking away.

Birthday Suit

I have been lucky enough to find a tax-free job that pays good money for very little effort. My shifts are only 2 hours long, and its within walking distance on campus. However, this very part-time job that I have is one that not many people would be comfortable with. I am a nude model.

My first reaction was probably similar to yours right now. I felt like people on campus would point and laugh and that it's "slutty" and too personal. I didn't want all of my flaws shown to an entire class of freshmen. But the more I talked to my art major roommate, the more appealing it seemed. When Raquel seemed equally interested, we made a deal that we would both do it (though not at the same time). So around this time last year, we both did.

Taking my robe off in front of 25-30 people and exposing every inch of skin that I have was one of the most frightening moments I've ever experienced. I had this moment in my head of "Oh my goodness what if I was wrong and I'm NOT supposed to be completely naked. Maybe it's just bra and underwear." I quickly realized that everyone else seemed completely at ease as they held up their thumbs to get proportions right. After about 2 minutes of utter panic and fighting the urge to just grab my robe and run out, the adrenaline kicked in. By the end of the 2 hour session, I was fairly comfortable (but I was also in a reclining pose). I had no real stories to report. While I obviously felt exposed, I didn't feel dirty. I've felt more exposed when getting nasty looks from dirty men in bars than naked in a room of students. So I kept going back.

Now it's almost funny how boring it is. Where I used to look forward to the rush of adrenaline, I now just feel completely at ease (except when my appendages fall asleep from not being able to move). I don't think about my love handles or stubbly legs because I know these people have had to draw many different shapes of people and I'm just one more. In fact, I'm such an "expert," my schedule is getting booked up very quickly by different teachers. I guess I should agree to as many sessions as I can before I graduate. While this is a controlled environment at my school, I definitely wouldn't feel comfortable doing this in the "real world." But I suppose it makes a good story and good money now, and so I'll continue de-robing until May.

Spring Broken

Have you ever gone on vacation and realize days later exactly how much this vacation was needed? I experienced this feeling a few days ago while laying in a comfortable king size bed at noon while watching Saved by the Bell with John. And not only was A vacation needed, but THIS vacation was needed.

Allow me to explain.

As a senior in college with limited funds, I found it necessary to travel, but in an economical fashion. After narrowing down some options in December, I decided on renting a house in the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a week with my boyfriend and two other couples. Now you have to understand that this area in the middle of March is not exactly tropical, which I was prepared for, which is why I insisted on choosing a house with a hot tub (it's not technically a spring break vacation unless a bikini is involved... in case you didn't know). The week was spent playing lots of Monopoly (I dominated), various card games that I'm pretty sure Sam made up on the spot, drinking daquiris and pina coladas in the aforementioned hot tub, and exploring the virtually tourist-free surroundings.

While we only had one nice day of a comfortable 65 degrees and sunny (which we spent kayaking and then visiting some otters), a good time was had by all (as far as I know). With little drama (Sam was there, so of course there was SOME drama... ahem a drunken incident regarding a dish washer), we all relaxed as a group, as couples, as individuals.

And then to end a relaxing week, I saw Wicked, got a new car, and gave myself a make over.

So now I feel rested, rejuvenated, and ready for the rest of my final semester as a college student. You can consider me Spring Broken. But not as broken as the dishwasher.

Viva La Vie Boheme!

The first music I ever remember hearing was my dad's cassette tape of the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. He would play it almost every time we were in the car together, and my sister and I would sing every word. I only understood the basic gist of the story, but I'll never forget when we took a family trip to New York and we saw Phantom live. That trip, we also saw Cats. And so my love for musical theatre began.

It wasn't until high school that I really dove into theatre. I saw Freeman's production of Hello, Dolly! as a freshman which blew me away. I had no idea that kind of talent existed in high schoolers. So sophomore year, I took a speech class with a fellow named Dustin who mentioned auditions for the musical 42nd Street. I had seen this as a traveling show when I was a youngster and I was vaguely familiar with the songs. I didn't have work that afternoon after school so I replied with "I have nothing better to do," and auditioned that afternoon.

I was shocked to have gotten any part at all, so I was very pleased when I was in the ensemble. In those months of rehearsals, I felt like I was emerging from a cocoon. I became 100% comfortable with these new friends of mine. We were all equally weird, and I liked it. I could write 20 pages about how 42nd Street is the best thing that ever happened, but I digress.

After that production, theatre was like a drug. I signed up for classes in it, I auditioned for everything, I worked backstage. I would do anything I could to just be near the stage. However, in every story, there is always a villain. My personal villain was Mrs. Spears. Like most theatre teachers, she had her favorites. And she had her least favorites. No one quite understood how or why certain people were in these categories, but I was definitely not her favorite. So I watched the same people get leads and I just hoped that by the time I was a senior, I would get a role that at least had a speaking role or solo. I got greedy. She never cast me as anything decent. I always got the shit roles. After the senior musical where I was essentially not cast, I went to college and realized that my future would only involve attending shows and not participating.

So for the next 4 years I only attended some productions.

But a week or so ago, I was checking my mail when a flyer caught my eye. "RENT AUDITIONS." And for whatever reason, I took the flyer off the wall and put it in my backpack. In that split second I just decided that I was going to go for it. Now to be honest, I ended up going back and forth between auditioning and not. After all, I am a student, and a science major at that. I remembered how much time musicals take to put together and I was afraid my grades would suffer. I also tend to go out of town or have a certain visitor from UVA on the weekends, so I knew that would change. My dear friend, Cara, who I met when we both fell in love with theatre during 42nd Street, changed my mind. And so I went to my audition.

I was cast. But not only was I cast. I was cast as a speaking role. A lead. THE lead that I've always wanted. Maureen.

Maybe I'm not any sort of huge talent. Maybe I'll even botch the role. But for the first time, I at least have a chance to prove myself. For that in itself, I'm willing to make all of those sacrifices that almost stopped me from auditioning. I'm going to put everything I'm made of into this role, and I can't wait.



Take THAT, Bitch Spears.

Viva la vie boheme!