Down.

I am here to announce that Atlanta has made me a thousand types of depressed. I think I need to check my blog, maybe this has something to do with my cycle. Honestly, after a day of walking around Atlanta and having fun with friends and eating good food, I top it off with Idina. We wait outside for an autograph (and hopefully a picture, but don't get me started on those UGA ladies) and it happened all quick-like and whatever. Sounds great, right?

Well, I was super down after that. I started realizing that my life is crap. I don't have the slightest idea what I want to do with it (other than be Elphaba in the movie version of Wicked) and I am just getting older and nothing practical comes to mind.

I think this all resonated so hard in ATL because Wicked is the musical that changed it all for me. Yes, I have always loved music and musicals. It has been my life since the day my mother forced me to fake sick from elementary school so we could watch Shirley Temple all day, since every Thanksgiving when Mariah Carey's Christmas blasted through the house way too early. I knew it was my life, but it never struck me as a lifestyle.

Until that fateful day, December 5, 2003, that is. We had walked through a blizzard in Central Park. Our class had been up since 5 in the morning doing hell knows what and we were all exhausted. We warmed up in FAO Schwartz and later took in some theater. For most of my class, it was a warm place and they ended up dozing off. (I would like to say NOT because of the musical, but because of the exhaustion, but who really knows.) I sat on the edge of my seat the entire time. We were as far away as you could possibly be, but I was in awe nonetheless. From that moment on, I knew that nothing else would really matter to me. Nothing else has.

It is all that I want, but all that I know I won't put myself in front of to do. For that, seeing Idina at the ripe old age of 23, well, it hurt this time. She knows who she is. She can laugh at her insecurities and admit they are there. She knows that nothing matters (career-wise) other than music and she never thought twice about it being a lofty dream. She made it happen. I just see no way of doing that for myself.

I don't have her talent, of course, so maybe that makes a difference. Who knows? It was just one of those days that made me realize how strange and confusing this world is. How someone becomes famous and how much of a burden they hold, without even realizing the magnitude to which it exists. It is strange.

Ever since my accident, I've lost a big part of myself. I used to know something great would happen to me. It was never a question. Now, I just laugh at that notion, that child who had that notion. I laugh, and I forget that she used to be me. I miss her some days.