We Are No Longer Knights

And we no longer live in the days of old, where all virtues were measured by deeds and all reputations carved with a sword.

So how do we measure our virtues?

Generosity, loyalty, faith. Those are the easy ones.

How about courage?

What exactly is being courageous?

Courage is like loneliness. It has so many faces and wears so many different masks, it makes itself almost impossible to label.

Are people courageous because they bravely face anything and everything, constantly putting themselves out there as often as they can in as many ways as possible?

Could be. But that could also be fueled by insecurities, and those don't seem to quite fit the bill for bravery. Sure, being daring and adventurous is proving to the world that you're not afraid of anything, but does that make you courageous? Or does it just make you bold?

Is a person courageous because they deal with everything internally, going through personal struggles and strains of the emotions without showing a single sign of anything in their life being out of place? Are they courageous because they are brave enough to make their issues known without letting them impede on their habitual nature?

Courage is rhetorical. It's not meant to be defined or outlined. It's not even really meant to be perceived by anybody but yourself.

Do I feel courageous? Not really. Does it mean that I'm not? Who knows.

I've been told before that I'm tough. I've been told that I'm stand-offish. I've been told that I'm emotionally strong.

But none of that matters. Because courage isn't defined by the people around you, with their own treasured ideals and their own perceptions of your personal situation.

Courage is defined by you, and only you.

So here's my question for you:

Do you feel courageous?

This College Hoppin' Thing is Hard

I am pooped.

My dad and I decided to go on a nice leisurely walk to see the gorge(ous) sights in Ithaca.

It was not leisurely.

It was a full blown hike.

Uphill.

In mud.

While wearing flip-flops.

It was probably one of the least enjoyable things we could have chosen to do with our evening.

I am not planning on moving from my bed until about 8:30 tomorrow morning. Cheers.

On the flip side, well... I guess it's not really the flip side. Regardless. I am going to talk about colleges now.

Five points for awesome transitions.

I am actually very surprised at how unimpressed I am with the schools I have visited thus far.

Not to say that they're bad schools or that they don't have an abundance of fantastic opportunities and programs, but I suppose I just expected to fall in love with these places the way I fell in love with DU.

I saw that school not really planning on leaving with a desire to go there, and ended up really liking it. The campus was beautiful, lots of potential for exercise, nice dorms, delicious cafeteria, bomb study abroad program, five year Master's programs for practically all majors, etc, etc.

Pretty much, I fell in love with the first school I saw, and nothing else has been able to compare.

Granted, I have only visited two of our scheduled four. So there is still potential for chance.

I do know one thing: I definitely won't be moving to Ithaca next summer.

I'll keep y'all posted on the next couple of days.

Don't fall out of your chairs in excitement and anticipation.

No, I'm totally kidding. Do. I'll be flattered.

It's 6:26 A.M.

And I'm sitting in D.I.A. with an hour until my flight.

Welcome to morning travel.

Do I Really Need All This?

Every time I pack for somewhere, I'm astonished at how much shit I pack.

Really? A five day trip, and I fill a backpack to bursting? Really?

It's great that I'm avoiding checking my luggage, but I have a feeling that my shoulders are now going to pay for it.

Hey, I could just consider it conditioning for school. Ugh... school... shudder.

I have so many little tiny bottles and travel sizes of things that I can fill a whole storage size ziploc with only the liquids.

I have another little bag for the non-liquids.

And another little bag for my makeup.

Three pairs of shoes. Seven shirts.

Why do I need all of this shit?

Apparently, because I'm a girl. And it's necessary.

French or English, Yo

I think blogger must have decided that I speak Spanish.

The last six blogs it has showed me have all been in Spanish.

The most recent one was about fashion, all in Spanish, with all Asian models.

Hmm...

New Song For Me To Learn On Guitar

Go.

Night Drives

The cool air

sits still

leaving only a gentle breeze

to cool the pores

of the people

still stuck in the day

not yet transitioned

still becoming accustomed

to the stillness

whose racing minds

are still slowing

morphing to the tranquility

of the air

the rushing colors

becoming one

a cool blanket

to calm the world

drawing all attentions

to one single

glitter

that draws away the stress

of the hectic

as long as it can

be seen

and felt

through open windows.

I'll Admit

It did get better.

Not exponentially, but better.

I think the reason I hated the beginning so much was because they were taking a show that is funny by nature and catering solely to the humor, completely disregarding the intuitive delivery of the lines to substitute in something funnier. Most of the time, though, it wasn't as much funny as it was just plain ridiculous.

Being a more serious theatrical fanatic, I appreciate it more when an actor is able to take a script and deliver it in such a way that they're aren't bursting out of character in their attempt to entice laughter out of their audience, but instead can be completely serious and still make people laugh.

Which is why when all nine parts of the opening (or however many there are, dear lord) were all overacted in the extreme, it took vast amounts of self control just to keep myself from pushing the power button.

But it got better. By the second act, when Bernadette Peters was no longer an ugly witch but instead could rock her crazy 90's poof, she obviously thought that her hair was comedy enough and so returned to saying her lines like a normal person, as did everybody else.

Her flying around in her cape for the entirety of Last Midnight though?

Kinda ruined it.

I Understand That Was Awesome

But please stop clapping in the middle of the scene.

I hate you all.

Into the Woods, It's Time To Go... No, Really Though.

I'm watching a recording of Into the Woods on Netflix... not impressed.

Usually when I watch a video of a show that I'm rehearsing, I do nothing but marvel at the level of skill exhibited by the actors, and compare the work that my cast is currently doing with that of the professionals.

Not in this case.

I expected to be absolutely blown away by Bernadette Peters, whose part I'm playing. I was fully prepared to take a lethal blow to my ego when I saw how fabulous she was in comparison to my own characterization of the part.

Deeefinitely not happening.

I'm not going to give up though. I'll keep watching until the end.

Because I'm a trooper like that.