Blindness

The air is warm with laughter, and the floor littered with clothes and makeup. Sprawled throughout the room, we trade jokes, secrets, and stories, paying no mind to the threats of the clock and impending separation. The room is so clearly a reflection of its owner, the youngest of us, and certainly the one with the biggest heart. Her arms are always open, and her innocence creates for her an incorruptible hope. Freckles dot her face, and her beauty carries with it an infectious charm of happiness. If I know but one person who can light up a room, it's her. Knickknacks line the shelves, a bonsai tree sits on her nightstand, a remote control car under her bed. Colorful books in every corner, a closet brimming with eccentric socks. The wall is layered under posters, mainly animals, and a picture or two of her family or friends.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the room is the animals. At first, they seem to be almost part of the room, but closer, nearly everything is alive. A large tank on the right is filled with sand, currently empty, as its usual inhabitant, a bearded dragon, has fallen asleep on my shoulder. A similar tank contains the opposite, sand is replaced by water, and a rainbow of fish dance inside. Another fish tank, this one with a one-eyed fish, jauntily nicknamed "Bullseye" and another, filled with snails and other little aquatic creatures. Her dog, a sandy colored imp, lies with his head in the lap of another girl, proudly displaying his battle scars from a scuffle weeks before. The newest addition is a wire cage, filled with colorful toys, and a labyrinth of a second floor she's created by hand. A white rat splatted with caramel coloring is her pride and joy, and she giggles as it scampers up her arm. A second, pure white, is sleeping in a sweatshirt pocket of another girl.

From an entanglement of drawers that she alone can navigate, she produces a bag of M&Ms and tears them open, offering handfuls to the rest of us. My eyes go wide, and her name escapes my mouth in a shriek. She spins around, confused. Horrified, I stutter about the notorious and brutal animal testing of Mars Candy and the irony of eating M&Ms with rat on her shoulder. The rest of the girls struggle not to laugh, an outburst from me about animal cruelty and corruption is far from abnormal. To them, this is ridiculous, and why shouldn't it be? M&Ms, the colorful chocolate sensations of our childhood. Mars, creator of Snickers, Twix, Dove, Three Musketeers, Starburst, Skittles. A laptop is found, Mars is googled, and sure enough, I'm right. There's endless records of cruel testing on rats, mice, Guinea pigs, rabbits, monkeys, cats, all ending in death. They still laugh at me. The M&Ms are eaten.

Through the rest of the night I watch her struggle with her vegetarianism, her love of animals and their connection to food, a connection the majority of us fail to make. She hovers for an extra second over the peperoni pizza, inhaling deeply, trying to convince herself its enticing smell is resistible. Later still, while watching a movie, I turn and look at her, her profile lit by the glow of the screen. She's not watching the movie either, instead debating with herself and a handful of candy. She eats them.

Homesick

In my new show, I only find memories of the old. This cast is awkward, cold, aloof. It's a strange new world, without hugs, no twisted family trees, and no bumping noses. Please, take me home.

Take me back to the world of twisted rituals, where we knew everything about each other, from what color underwear to favorite ice cream flavor. To where we'd live for our own craziness. Lemon teas, meditation, relaxation, where the crew in black were my heroes, and my life depended only on a moment.

Take me back to where a smudge out of place was the end of my world, a missing prop, a loose wire. Where hearts were poured into energy circles and the warm ups made you laugh out loud.

Playing mother on the shows when I wasn't performing, armed with painkillers, water bottles, hairspray, and sheet music. Everything could be falling apart, and suddenly pushed back in place with a single bobby pin.

The backstage hallway was nothing less then the artery pumping directly to my heart. Even a trip from getting miked to getting dressed was slow, for one never just walked down that hallway. One bounced from person to person, with one's arms extended. Wrapped into uncountable hugs, whispering unintelligible inside jokes and good luck wishes into uncountable ears. Simply a smile and a nose bump were heaven. My home.

Where am I now? New show. New theater. New cast. No hugs. No warm ups. No nose bumps. Please. Take me home.

Hope

The new year finds me hopeful. Gandhi once said to not lose faith in humanity, for humanity is like an ocean. Just because a few drops are dirty doesn't mean the entire ocean is. With this new faith, I dive in, full of joy and hope.

Sometimes we forget just how good it can be. It's the little things that count. Seeking perfection in the everyday isn't impossible. Family, sledding, hot cocoa, and the Three Stooges. Perfection. Live for these moments.

One of the biggest mistakes we make is with relationships. Often we become entwined in the idea that we need someone else. What we're really looking for is to be loved, inside and out, even our flaws. Nobody ever said you couldn't be that person for yourself. Love yourself. Inside and out. Even your flaws.

We've got to accept that there won't always be someone holding our hand. That's not to say someone isn't a moment away, our friends are always there to catch us when we fall. I'm learning to stand on my own two feet. If I fall, I fall, but I'll be able to say that I tried. Always strive for the best. Let go of your fear and push yourself.

For the first time in such a long time, I know I'll be ok.