As I lay here...

... in a bed of clouds, with my lips tingling of a newly resurfaced tube of burt's bees, I know I'm home. The familiar smells and sounds. The dogs sleeping in the garage. The cats purring and skulking around the basement. The television. I love coming home.

Don't get me wrong, I love being up at school. I love feeling independent, sitting in on my laptop at work and realizing I'm going to pack up and go back to my room, feeling so grown up. I actually feel fully comfortable living at school. But every so often, it's nice to come home. Return to the comfort of the parents' home. Dinner and a movie with my mom. Cider Mill with my dad. Freaking out over how ridiculously skinny my cat has become. Running outside to pet my dog because otherwise she'll pee on the floor. The odd cries of happiness from my other dog when I walk through the door to my dad's.

It's the pleasant feeling of detachment from school. For a little over a day I can forget about that Spanish exam I have on Monday. The Readings I have due. That's all up at school. For the time being I can just relax. Cuddle with my dogs. Hang out with my mom. Talk to my dad. Watch some mindless television, anything that's on.

I love coming home.

Rejection

I was a member of the Drama club in High School. I auditioned for every show. Freshman year, I was so excited just to see my name on the cast list. It didn't matter that it was under Ensemble, I was in a show! Sophomore year, I started to hope a little more. I was confident in my auditions and I stayed up all night, unable to sleep, with thoughts of the cast list running through my head. When my name appeared as an extra in the fall show I was a little sad, but I was cast so why did it matter if I didn't get a lead? The spring show, I was a little more upset because I was the only tapper without a name, but at least I was still a tapper. Junior year, I began to become legitimately upset at the "Chorus" castings, especially when those younger than me began getting parts. It was disheartening to hear nothing but praise after an audition and see nothing come of it.

The biggest heart break came spring of senior year. We were doing Beauty and the Beast. I was a senior in the top choir, I had to get a name. I didn't even ask for a large role. I asked to be a Silly Girl. I was confident. My audition was the best I'd ever done. Our costumer (who is brutally honest to everyone) complimented my audition. The "elite" group seemed impressed by my audition. Sleep didn't come that night. My body trembled as I walked down to the drama hallway that morning. I had never been so sure of a name part. I started at the top and skimmed down. The lower I got on the list, the further my heart sank. Three names from the bottom, I found mine - Fork. I nearly burst into tears. To be so excited about something, so sure and to have it torn from you just like that is heart breaking. It didn't help that my friend was fuming over not getting cast as Belle, when she was cast as the feather duster, a part that was perfect for her.

I mean come on, at least she wasn't a fork.

I faced a lot of rejection and failed a lot in High School. Whether it was not getting parts in shows, not being elected for an officer position, not getting a solo in choir, not making it into the top choir, or not advancing at Solo & Ensemble they all hurt, but I never stopped trying. After all, I did succeed a few times. I ended up making the top choir Senior year, I got 1's at Solo & Ensemble for duets, and managed to get a solo. There were occasional successes, and they felt fantastic. And while I felt worse and worse with every failure, at least I'm not living in regret for not having tried. "What if"s are always worst than "no"s.

Remembering This Summer

The night of Chelsea's Graduation party. She lives 45 minutes from our town so 13 of us spend the night. Because there are so many of us we decide to sleep in the bounce house. Boys are on one side, girls on the other. I'm between two couples who had been breaking the line to be cutesy, and I am across from Josh, my awesome gay friend. We both felt left out of the cutesy so decided to hold hand as we fell asleep. 3:00 in the morning we're all quiet.

This bounce house is cozy. It's a giant air mattress that doesn't deflate and keeps the air circulating. The "rrr"ing noise of the motor in the background becomes background noise, something to focus on, ridding the world of all other sounds.

I manage to drift off to sleep around 3:30. 10 minutes later, my arm begins to feel numb from being flailed above me, under my pillow and head. I careful turn over and switch hands, without waking Josh, and positioning myself comfortably. I then attempt to go back to sleep.

4:00 rolls around. I am nearly asleep when suddenly, everything is silent. The "rrr"ing had stopped. Instantly, I know something is wrong and I bolt upright. Chelsea (who is sleeping next to me) is sitting up as well and Josh has flung himself to the side of the bounce house. The three of use know we have to get out as the roof folds in on us.

Luckily, the "rrr"ing starts a few seconds later and we push the roof back up. A few of the other 10 had woken up, but we decide it was just a quirk and it'll be fine. We lay back down.

"Is it bad that the first thing I thought was 'We're going to die!'?" Chelsea asks.

I laugh, because the first thing I thought was 'The slit in this thing is not big enough for all of us to get through quickly...'

10 minutes later, the "rrr"ing stops again. Chelsea, Josh and I waste no time and announce we have to leave. The roof collapses almost instantly, but after about 10 seconds it turns back on again. No one else is as inclined to leave, asking "Where are we going to go?" But the three of us vacate the bounce house and Chelsea rushes inside, where her dad is still awake (luckily he's a cop who doesn't trust kids on a coed sleepover).

Josh is the most concerned as he cannot go inside the house due to his cat allergies, but decides to sleep on the trampoline. I squeeze his hand once more as a goodbye and his eyes get big.

"Kathleen, my glasses are on... They were in a case in my bag. I must have managed to put them on as I flung myself to the side. I'm a Ninja!" He declared with a smile.

By the time Chelsea got back the bounce house had collapsed twice more and everyone was sliding out into the yard. Nine of use followed Chelsea inside. Josh was on the trampoline, we discovered Austen sleeping on the swinging chair outside Chelsea's house.

Once inside we all collapsed on the floor.

I'm just an average college student.

Sometimes, I know what I want to do with my life, other times I question it and have no idea. I freak out about my future, my lack of experience to put on my resume, what classes to take next semester, what internships I should apply for. I procrastinate, I talk on Skype with friends about unimportant things instead of working on homework, I stay up until all hours of the night because I put off that homework for too long. I'm an average college student.

I guess one of the only things that makes me different from some college students: I adore my major. Everything about it. There are a few required classes that I would rather not take, but most of them I adore going to. The assignments are a joy to work on. My classmates are the greatest people I've ever met. I love the subject matter. What to do with what I'm learning however, frightens me sometimes.

I am one of those people who enjoys doing a wide variety of things. I love to read, I love to write, I enjoy algebra, I could sit down and work on coding a website for 24 hours straight and not tire of it, if someone asked me to look at a paper for them I would sit down and mark notes all over the page because I know the importance of helping others become better writers, I love to sing and play guitar and I'll even go on a run every so often. I'm not saying I'm wonderful and fantastic at everything I like to do, because I'm not, but I'm interested in a lot. My major does not discourage me from studying this wide variety, so when it comes down to it, I don't feel like I have a focused career path.

I have ideas about what I want to do, but I find myself questioning my abilities. I question whether or not I would actually enjoy it as a career or if I only enjoy the learning process. Sometimes, I want to go back to when I was a kid, back to being told what to do with my life. It seems ridiculous that I'm expected to make a decision about what to do with the rest of my life when I can't even start a paper until midnight the day it's due. But I guess I'm just an average college student.