Give a Gift

1:56.

Huh.

I lead an interesting life. I love it and wouldn't trade it for anything. But when I look at it for face value, I can't help but wonder what on earth makes me do what I do.

On a typical day, I roll out of bed just in time to throw on a bra, slap on some mascera, and once again stick a hat on my head, attempting to pull off the "casual and chill" look. I'll be honest, I like that look. I do casual VERY WELL. But every day of casualty chalks down my score for respect and makes my peers even more shocked when I actually do my hair, or wear normal clothes.

Alas, I digress. On a typical day, I get my butt to school and spend the majority of my time talking about ethics and aesthetics in a German Dialect, sitting in a corner or pacing around the HFAC whilst talking to myself (attemptint to memorize the latest bit of material to perform), or sleeping on the floor of the Pardoe Lobby. A schedule like that doesn't even phase me. To me, its normal to see someone curled up in the corner sleeping, listening to their ipod, talking to themselves, having a breakdown, or what have you. I mean, come on, its the HFAC. We are wierd. I am an odd person! I get it. I do these things too. But, in my defense, I do not smell. Have you ever walked through the math building? Those poor students need to stand up and take a couple breaths. I fear that they stay in one place for too long and their body oder just begins to waft into the walls and chair cushions around them. At least we are a healthy smelling people.

After waking up from a quick power nap in the lobby, I always seem to find myself doing some interpretive dance while wearing black clothes and a white mask: a "Neutral Mask", if you will. I mean, this class is the kind of class that people make fun of. I even make fun of it: a bunch of theater kids, all dressed in black, as emo as they can get, wearing a white mask, and moving their bodies through the negative space to tell a story. Um.....FREAKS. Some of these people must not have gotten enough love in their childhoods...

But in all seriousness, these are my classes! I wear these white masks; I move through the negative space; I sleep on the floor; I talk to myself in a corner; I could think of a song for every aspect and situation of my life. This is what I do! The people that I laugh at are MY kind of people!

But in a sense, I find that extremely healthy. Its healthy to step back and say "yeah...at face-value, that's kind of odd." I don't expect anybody who doesn't study art to understand the importance of a neutral mask, or why meditation is crucial to one's sanity. I really don't. I won't even argue it with you! In fact, I am more than willing to not bring it up in conversation at all, and just keep my theories and lessons to myself and let others learn through their own life experiences. I mean, if some engineering major came up to me and said to me "You will learn this, and you WILL love it", I'd probably say "get a life, and here is some deodorant".

Ok ok, that's a lie. With my personality, I would probably do my best to understand what they are talking about, and silently curse them out in my head.

So, why do I do this? Why do I get up every morning and study something that is becoming extinct? Why do I CONSTANTLY put myself out on the line? Why am I going into something where the success of it relies SOLELY on the opinions of other people? That sounds like the most unhealthy thing one could possibly do!

I'll tell you why:

Because I love it.

Because its what keeps me going.

Because there is nothing greater than doing something you love, and feeling like your schoolwork is all play. I do it because I have a gift, and I want to give it to others. I do it because I love to hear people laugh, and know that I had some part in bringing happiness to someone's life for 1/2 a second. I do it because I have been blessed with a keen intellect and the ability to appreciate things for what they are and for what they can become. I do it because for 2 1/2 hours a night, I can put on a giant red wig and act like a complete crazy, and make someone forget about the sister in their life that will pass away from cancer, or make myself forget about my grandmother who is slowly getting worse and worse. For a small portion of someone's day, I have the ability to give a gift and allow someone else to jump on my circus train with me and take a ride.

It is such an odd phrase: giving a gift. What does that even mean? My first few years at college, before I was accepted into my program, I was always told to "give a gift". In prayers, in class, in any discussion, I would simply nod my head and pretend I understood what they were talking about and that I had just as deep of a soul as my professors. But now I slowly understand. Life is a gift. Our talents are gifts. Our personalities are gifts. Some individuals are hysterical, and their personality and humor is a gift to someone in need of a smile that day. A beautiful singing voice is a gift that can be given in Church to help portray a message. Music is a gift. Dancing is a gift. All of these beautiful things have been given to us, and what are we to do with them, bury them? Hide them away and never cultivate them? They were given to us, isn't it only fair that we share and give them to someone else?

Yes, I know, its late. I get it! I'm UP LATE AGAIN! If it were up to me, I would fall asleep every night at midnight: get my eight hours, make it to class and meetings on time. Life would be a breeze. But....life is NOT a breeze, and here I am, left to try my hardest to turn my brain off and take a short 6 hour nap before the craziness of my life starts all over again.

But, until I get married and have a different goal in life, I wouldn't have it any other way.