I Don't Want Pie

I'm sitting in the lawbrary with my Property book glaring me in the face saying, "If you don't read me today, you have to take me home, and I'm really heavy."  I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  Instead I'm going to talk to you.  Shouldn't you feel special?  I'm sacrificing my lumbar health for your reading pleasure.  Yes, you should feel special.  One more thing to add to your "Why I'm happy it's Friday" list.

Ok, down to business.

A couple of weeks ago, I spent some time with a friend from undergrad who has always inspired me.  I spent her first year as a college student listening to her cry about mean sorority girls, waking her up when she fell asleep studying in the hall at 3 a.m., and taking in too many calories with her drinking Mocha Frappes at the campus coffee shop.  She's wrapping up her junior year now, and instead of being her mentor, I now find myself being mentored.  She has a wonderful way of making you feel like the most important person in the world, and she has a joy that emanates to a 50-mile radius.  Anyway, while I was hanging out in her dorm room, I noticed a list taped to her desk.  I asked her what it was, and she said it was a list of 21 things she wanted to do while she was 21.  She was currently trying to find something to replace "Get scuba certified" because she knew it would be too expensive to get scuba certified, go skydiving AND ride in a hot air balloon.  College kids' budgets just can't handle that much adventure.

Her list really got me thinking, and I thought to myself, "I just turned 23.  I should have a list."  So I've begun my list of 23 things I'm going to do while I'm 23.  I have about 13-14 right now, as I'm seriously contemplating my year-long bucket list, so to speak.  I thought having (and checking off) goals on such a list would bring a little more "aim" to my life and help me figure out what truly makes me happy.  One of the top goals is to run a half-marathon.  I ran my first "long run" today of six miles, and I have to say that six hours later the endorphins are still pumping.  We'll see if they can last through my Civil Procedure class.  The scope and limitations of discovery might kill them all, but I'm optimistic (maybe because of all the endorphins).  But that's not what this is about...

This is:  Another goal I have that I didn't put on my list because I had already decided to do this before the whole list thing is to audition for a play.  I didn't put it on my list because I feel like that's a cheap freebie, like writing "Brush teeth" on a check off to-do list.  You're going to brush your teeth anyway, so you shouldn't get any kind of satisfaction from crossing that one off.  (If you're one of those folks to whom brushing your teeth is a big deal, maybe you should get off the computer and grab some Colgate.)  All of that to say:  Tomorrow I'm auditioning for three shows.  I've picked my monologues and my song, took my headshots, sent in my application, and now I just have to convince the directors that (a) I have talent and (b) I'm cute.  As long as my hair straightener works tomorrow and I don't break out overnight, I'd say I've got (b) covered.  We'll see how (a) goes tomorrow.

Now you may be wondering, "Why is a law student auditioning for a play?"  Good question.  It may make more sense if I tell you that I was originally a theatre major in college.  I grew up a little actress, constantly dressing up, quoting movies, and being as dramatic as possible.  And I was good, too.  So why did I give it up?  Stability.  I wanted a job where I knew I would make money and not waste my intellect and potential waiting tables and going to auditions in anticipation of my "big break."  I'm far too logical to take that risk.  The cost-benefit analysis speaks for itself.  But now, after hours of being sedentary every day as I read case after case and line after line of information I'm not remotely interested in, taking a shot at acting doesn't seem so bad.  In fact, it sounds like the best idea.  A professor of mine once said, "Graduating from law school is like winning a pie-eating contest where the prize is more pie."  I don't want pie.  I won't take pie.  

So tomorrow I'm rejecting the pie and going for what I really want to do, what I really love.  I may fall flat on my face (literally; there's a dance audition), but I am putting myself out there, and that is what matters.  I have no expectations, but I also have no doubt that this is the right thing to do.

I may regret writing this post as it requires I follow up on the events of tomorrow, and there's a 50/50 chance that I'll be writing about failure, something I fear and despise more than anything.  But right now, that's a chance I'm willing to take.