Decision-making times!

Wow, I've actually come to a decision about something. And that something was a pretty gosh darn big decision. I've picked a college. I know this isn't something that rare; the senior class all go through a college decision-making process, but because it has happened to me, I feel it is the most personal thing in the universe. I feel as though I've chosen a tremendously new path in my life, because I have. Wow, does that sound cheesy? Wow, was that the second time I used the word 'Wow?' Well technically, that was the fourth time. Wow. Five.

I'm going to DePaul University. I decided this Sunday, and it felt huge. Seriously huge. It was one of the best feelings ever. It was as though finally, I was steering my life in a direction. I take a deep breath, and here I go. Woosh.* (*That was a sound affect inserted by the author.)

Life is taking a turn. I'm heading off to another state. This is a big change. It's something serious to think about. Somewhere completely new, somewhere that isn't the only place I've ever remembered living in. Fairly big change.

My major is daunting... in a good way. I'm not sure that 'daunting' is the correct word, but it was the first one that came to mind. That must mean something in the diction's favor, right? I'm going to major in Playwriting. It's exciting. Oh boy, that rhymed. I am so excited to be a playwright in Chicago. I met with several other playwrights from the school, and they all seemed intelligent, some of them seemed quite successful, and they were all talented. It will be hard to "make it" or whatever. But it would be horrible not to try. I want to test my skills, I want to be challenged. Every year, playwriting students will get cut, and every year I could be one of those students... But I know that I won't. Because I want it too badly, and because I will never get this time again, so I'm going to fight for it.

I visited the campus during an open house, and the first thing scheduled was a customary breakfast to win our affections with bagels and fruit. I feel I have to mention, Chicago bagels have nothing on New York bagels. This is something I will tenderly miss. The tour continued as they split us into color-coded groups depending on our majors (i.e. Actors were red, Theatre Arts yellow, etc) and we were sent off to oversee some classes. I felt extremely fortunate to sit in on a Playwriting class, even though I was the only person in the "Theatre Arts" group who was majoring in playwriting. The majority wanted to be directors or dramaturgs. I felt instantly when walking into the class that I was getting a sign that this was the right place. The sign was in the form of Bob Dylan. When we walked in, "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" was playing. We filed into chairs surrounding the seven students and teacher at their table. We sat there, some of us shuffling our feet or texting, while the playwriting students read along with the lyrics. We sat and listened to the nearly 10-minute song, and then the professor encouraged them to discuss, in depth, how Bob Dylan told his story in this song. The professor said, to my delight, "what we really are are storytellers. We need to learn how to tell a story in a new form." Guess what flew through my mind? STAC storytelling workshop. Peter Brooks and new forms. I love Bob Dylan... this is right. This is right. I belong here.

The playwrights read their 10-page assignments, based off a poem that they'd gone over, like the Bob Dylan song, the previous lesson. The professor explained that what they've been doing lately is writing plays inspired by material that wasn't a play, such as a poem or song or painting. All seven of the playwrights were talented. All of those short plays were great. All of them had distinctive voices, and I want to be one of them badly.

Oh, another odd way that the Theatre School at DePaul made me think of STAC: Apparently, they're sort of cultish. But in a good way. As in, "Theatre students at DePaul look out for one another. We're like a family. We spend almost all of our time together, so yeah, some people tend to think we're a cult." Imagine going from one family to another... how splendid is that?

Another plus about DePaul is that I'm a ten minute train ride from my aunt and uncle, who are some crazy fun relatives. The first night we stayed with them, my uncle showed me his private library. He then proceeded to pull book after book from the shelf, telling me exactly why I needed to read each one. Generally, it might intimidate or worry someone to have a stack of 14 books recommended in the span of ten minutes, but I (being the bibliophile that I am) feel completely thrilled. We continued to discuss religion, philosophy, agism, and dying. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard and thought so intensely simultaneously. It's a wonderful feeling to have family at your disposal, especially when you're incredibly fond of them.

The decision was difficult, but not because of the choices. The thing that weighs me down in decision-making is the act of choosing. I like to leave things up to chance, or others, or Fate. Or all of those things. I do not like to have a list of options, and have only one that I can do. I doubt myself, and I covet the things I don't want. But this is where I choose. This is when I pick, and I've picked. I've made a decision, and I know, for the first time ever after making a choice, that this is right.