The One about Les Miserables, 1994.

Holy homework. But it's done. For today. There will be more tomorrow and the next day and the next and the next. I cannot wait to graduate. Fuh. Real. These classes are kicking my butt... but I am surviving, and that's the important thing. The most important thing - imagining that diploma in my hands. I cannot wait to get on with my life. I have plans, but I have no idea what to expect when I walk away from college. Every time I think about it, I get excited.

I'm positive that I have one of the best friends on the face of the planet. I get very nostalgic almost everyday about the time I have spent with her. I have had some of the best times of my life with her. And no one quite gets it like she does.There's no such thing as reservation around her, no such thing as judgment, no such thing as fear of losing her, no such thing as belittlement. That's rare.

It's almost crunch-time. This week is going to be chaos.

Sometimes I get tired of being the strong girl, the one with the big, independent personality. I admit to wanting to be taken care of on occasion. I admit to getting physically and especially emotionally tired of wearing the armor. I admit that that tiresome feeling has become more prominent in my life lately. I admit that I have no idea how to handle it. Which is something else entirely - I hate not knowing how to handle every second of my life. I consider myself a very controlled person. I know how to budget my time; I know how to act in front of people; and I like to think I know what's going to happen tomorrow. I think spontaneous activities are a blast, that's not what I'm talking about... it's those unexpected situations that take hold of our lives. I'm not quite sure how to explain it.

We talked about something in our Five Carols rehearsals on Friday about the caliber at which we carry ordeals in our lives now. I have always found it fascinating watching a toddler handle a situation... like a broken crayon. To them, the fact that that little piece of wax broke in half is the worst thing they could ever imagine happening. I kind of wish those were still the things that I considered the biggest hardship in my life. I want to be three years old all over again. Yes, I'm serious.

In my last post, I talked about a moment in my life when I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. This is it: 1994. I was eight years old, and my mom was taking my sister and I to see our first stage production. Martha was four years old. It was the third U.S. national touring cast of Les Miserables and it was playing at the Music Hall at Fair Park in Dallas, Texas. I remember asking my mom before the show began if it was like a movie or real people; she told me it was real people, so when the curtain came up and the beginning action in the prison was taking place behind a netted scrim of sorts, I was upset. I honestly thought I was watching a movie... then the scrim went up and I got it. Minutes passed; if I remember correctly, I stayed pretty attentive to the action while Martha entertained herself in the corner. Then, young Cosette came out... I couldn't believe there was someone my age on that gigantic stage. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the actress. When she sang "Castle On a Cloud," I very, very, very distinctly remember holding my breath. I knew the song, and my eight-year-old brain thought, "That could be me."

That was it. Eight years old. I even remember the seat I was sitting in.