My Right to Pursue Happiness

So I am going to focus on something somewhat petty...but still valid that has been gnawing at me for a couple of weeks.

Webster's senior showcase.

A month out from it I always get excited. (Always...this is only my second one out of school.) I know these seniors...I so deeply believe in them and am excited to see them make their New York debut! Go them!

But there is another component that is entirely daunting. And I know I am not the only one that feels this way.

After the showcase there is a little reception/mixer/networking thing that happens where all of the alumni talk and catch up. Many of the professors are there...classmates we never see...past graduates that we have never even met. And there is the dreaded question that is asked...

So what are you up to? What are you DOING?

What a terrifying question.

I am trying to be happy. That is my answer.

I think about my senior year when my life was ahead of me. And I say...oh, I'm interviewing for internships hoping to move to the city...start my life, etc. GREAT.

Last year I remember being apprehensive about going, because I had nothing to show for myself either. I had left my internship...I was working a job that I hate/was not proud of (still working there btw...) BUT...I had a fiance! And I could focus on that! And we had plans! And we were that couple! I know, I know...he's talking about his broken engagement...AGAIN!

My use of ellipses is really getting out of hand.

Now this year...I am still working that job...and I am single. And that is okay. Truly...but I care too much about what people think. We all do. We're all human. I will always care too much. I want to be proud of what I am doing with my life. And I am proud of the life I have begun to carve out. But I can't show them my home...my room in my apartment...my chair that I sit in every morning...I can't have all of my incredible new friends come and line up so I can introduce them and have them tell people how awesome I am. I can't show them my bank account and how there is more money there than last year. I can't show them my relationship with my parents. I can't show them my relationship with MYSELF.

And I know that as I write this I am realizing that all of the stuff I can't show them is the stuff that matters and I shouldn't give a flying you-know-what about that.

But it is the pressure I put on myself...and the pressure that we as colleagues put on each other. We so earnestly want people to succeed in the way we always assumed they wanted to...the reason they went to college.

Which brings me to the second half of this conflict...which is something I have been mulling around for awhile and The Happiness Project (did I mention I had read that?) brought it about again.

I have disparaged friends who moved to New York and then left to move home...or just some place easier. In school I remember professors talking about former students leaving the business and that tragedy or whatever... People who decide to become a teacher. Who get married and have a family...and give up on their theatrical dream.

Now people can read this and choose to pick a fight me in their heads...or in real life. But these are my perceptions which make them my truth...even if they were missed impressions or something.

I love the theatre...lawd knows I do (Color Purple...anyone? anyone?) And I know that I am good at it. I have not a single doubt in my mind. But I have thought often about leaving it in the capacity I thought I was going to be in it. I was a directing major so people refer to me as a director. But I haven't directed anything in about two years. And I haven't really pursued it either. And that is on me. And that is okay. Because I don't know if that is what I want to do...it isn't necessarily a laziness thing where I don't want to work hard or I don't want to do the free stuff, because I have come accustomed to money. Money is a reality. But I believe that if I wanted it badly enough I would stop at nothing to do it.

Bottom line...I don't want my major to define me. I am a writer,a blogger,an amateur chef, a musical theatre historian, a cast recording connoisseur, a lover of hot tea, a television fanatic, a FREAKIN' CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE.

That should define me. That should define all of us. We pass judgement on other people's pursuit of happiness, because it isn't ours. I am not assistant directing on Broadway or off. I am not making a living working in the theater. But I am happier than I was a year ago. And I am a year closer to figuring out what my life is going to look like. I am a year closer to finding my place in the world. And that can sound as cheesy as you want it to, but I am sure you have surmised at this point THAT I DON'T CARE.

But at the beginning of this post I said that I do. Growth?

And you better bet that I am going to look as cute as possible.

Now...I need to get back to comparing and contrasting different versions of As If We Never Said Goodbye.