How can I describe my first full week back at college…? In a word: LONG. And, in another word: FULL OF WEIRDNESS AND DELIGHT. (I fully realize that I used five words instead of one, but I just wrote a paper so ALL ENGLISH GO BYE-BYE.)
I am literally taking the Grammar Class From HELL with a teacher who has an uncanny resemblance to Doc from Snow White. Besides that, classes are an unexpected delight. And I say unexpected, because I have some extremely interesting individuals that make class all the more exciting. You guys know what I’m talking about—every class has one. Now imagine a class full of said interesting individuals, and you’ll get a pretty good picture.
^^^ You may notice that I sang “Tomorrow Will Be Kinder” from the Hunger Games soundtrack. I chose this song for two reasons: 1. I actually sang this song in public. IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE. PEOPLE WHO WERE SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND WATCHING ME, AS OPPOSED TO INTERNETZ PEOPLE.
And oh sweet mother of all merciful things, I TOTES FORGOT ABOUT THE HUGE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN INTERNETZ PEOPLE AND LIVE PEOPLE. THERE IS SUCH A BIG DIFFERENCE.
But let me back up a bit: There’s this indie, hipster-y burger place that has open mic night every Tuesday. Now I have attended said Open Mic Night, but only as a member of the audience. And I mainly noticed that:
a) Not a lot of people go
b) The people that perform aren’t intimidatingly, superbly amazing.
I figured, why the heck not? YOLO, am I right? (Just kidding—if I ever say that seriously I give everyone permission to punch me.) Now picture an enthusiastic Talie, ukulele in tow, with a small brigade of friends making their merry way over to Open Mic Night.
Now imagine me walk in. And picture, if you will, my face turning into an expression of ABSOLUTE HORROR AND PURE, UNADULTERATED FEAR. Because apparently the WHOLE ENTIRETY OF THE COLLEGE POPULATION decide to attend Open Mic Night. That place was so packed, even sardines would’ve felt madly uncomfortable.
The usual symptoms appeared: sweaty palms, crazy eyes, and the intense urge to dive into the nearest bush. Which I very nearly did, but my friends refused to let me cannon ball into the nearest shrub. They marched me into the restaurant, forced me to sign my name upon the list (it felt like I was signing away MY SOUL), and sat me down upon a chair.
And I thought to myself, “This is it. This is how I die.”
Remember how I said that everyone who I saw singing at Open Mic Night before weren’t very good? Well either they all inexplicably became AMAZING, or they decided just not to go anymore. Because everyone who sang that night was absolutely and utterly, breath-takingly perfect. Like, SO FREAKING GOOD.
The girl that I happened to go after had the voice of an angel and the guitar skills of Apollo himself, if he could play the guitar. Also, she had ridiculously awesome big wavy hair (like yours truly, except a HUNDRED TIMES MORE MAGICAL) and she dressed in a way that even Tim Gunn would’ve approved of.
Then I get up there. And I pluck away on my pathetically tiny little uke. And I sing my little heart out, except apparently all the crazy heart beating going on affected my vocal chords, because my voice was shakier than Justin Bieber’s career (at this point).
Afterward was all a blur. I vaguely remember drowning my sorrows in buckets and buckets of delicious chocolate milkshakes, and maybe I went to the store to pick up some bananas. Or maybe it was some toothpaste…? I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER. THAT’S HOW MUCH A BLUR IT WAS.
What I do remember is lying on my bed, staring idly at the ceiling and thinking to myself “WHOA WHAT THE HECK JUST HAPPENED?”
At first, I was completely horrified and appalled by my performance. Every time I pictured it in my head, I saw a variety of rotten vegetables being thrown in my direction. My friends assure me that this did not happen, and that I actually did a good job.
That was all yesterday. And I remember thinking to myself, “I WILL NEVER LIVE THIS TERRIFYING NIGHT DOWN. I HAVE DISHONORED MY FAMILY.” But now, today is today. And now I think to myself, “Yo, am I always this dramatic??” Because it wasn’t even a big deal. Like, AT ALL. Which is quite funny, considering that it seemed like the biggest travesty of my life, at the time.
Here’s the point I’m getting at: maybe I was awful. Maybe I was good. I don’t remember, and I don’t even care. The whole reason was to do something that’s never been done by me. And I’m just happy that I actually DID IT.
And what seemed like such a big deal yesterday (failing MISERABLY at singing) doesn’t even matter today. (CHEESY TIME) It’s like what the lyrics of the song say—“tomorrow will be kinder.” Things always get better. It reminds me of high school, you know? All the boy drama and embarrassing stuff that I thought was going to be THE END OF ME has literally had no effect on my life WHATSOEVER.
That’s reason #2 I chose to sing that song today—to remind myself that the seemingly horrid things that happen today won’t even matter by tomorrow.
And yes, that even counts the embarrassing stuff. Which still happens to me in abudance.