Sat, Mar. 20
... The match of a lifetime
That was a day and a half. Five rehearsals, a costume shopping trip to Value Village, a show, and a strike later, I'm home, and it's only been 13 hours since I left the house this morning.
Wow. That puts it into some sort of perspective. What kind, I'm not sure, but some kind.
I should be working on memorizing monologues and so on and so forth right now. I need to update my showcase to-do list--the list I've been attacking for the last week and a half is almost all crossed off, believe it or not. That, obviously, doesn't mean that everything is done--it means that I need a new to-do list! Heh.
I had an interesting chat with Andrew last night. We haven't talked in a couple of days, but we were both outside the chapel during the show, and just started catching up on life. I realized just how long ago and far away dorms really is. It's been ages. And we realized that, of the 40 or 45 of us who lived in dorms during first year, there are only 9 of us still at the school, and only 5 who have been there all along. There are a few who have left and then come back, but only Dave, Shawn, Andrew, Sharon, and I have been there all along.
It's such a strange thing to begin to realize that this era of life is so close to being over. Another month and a half, and this door closes.
What a strange, sad, scary, exciting, hopeful thought.
I can't quite wrap my mind around it yet. It's just too big a thought, and there are still too many things to do--too much life to suck out of these months--before I'm really ready to move on. When the time comes, I will be. I was when I graduated from high school, and I will be when I graduate from college. There's no choice but to be. Life moves on, and there's no other option but to move with it.
One year ago today: It seems so much less romantic. Not in the sense of going to war, and that being romantic, but the culture 60 years ago was more conducive to romance. Rainy paris streets, spies meeting in hotel lobbies, pencil skirts, red lips, coiffed hair, BBC radio reports, blaring newspaper headlines, smuggling Jews out of Germany, Poland, France, via an intricate network of citizens determined to make it okay, somehow. That period of history has always fascinated me. Not the politics of it, but the people. I've always loved the stories of ordinary people caught in the middle of something so much bigger than they were, doing everything they could to make the world right.
infinite || abyss
posted at 10:30 p.m.
