I Can Hear The Bells

There is no feeling quite so giddy as having that 'underwater' effect in your ears post concert, where everyone sounds like they're yelling at you while submerged in a bathtub. The shock of the normal decibel range sounds almost foreign, as though the concert was in technicolour and the rest of the world in shades of grey. That's how you know you had a good night -- if you've damaged your hearing. More than an hour after Bono and Eddie Vedder brought down the ACC tonight during a passionate cover of "Rockin' in the Free World", my ears are ringing and I have blisters on the bottom (yes, bottom) of my feet, either from walking from my house to the ACC (in a cool 47 minutes) or from standing in section 321 for a solid 2.5 hours straight.

It was a strange and unexpected way to end what was already a strange and unexpected day for me. Beyond the fact that I was somehow able to catch the Pearl Jam craze before it moved east to the lovely city of Quebec ... City (and ending my lovely boyfriend's obsessive, 2-week string of PJ shows in 7 different cities, thus returning to me a much more normal, if slightly exhausted Steve), today was also notably the day that I dropped out of graduate school.

It was such an easy thing to do. And I feel like a bit of a biter to be writing about it here today, because Steve and I actually resigned from our respective University of Toronto programs within hours of each other, but it was a legitimate decision for each of us. And yes, we're probably going to start picking out matching outfits and power walking in the mall together, now that we have all of this time on our hands and have evidently decided to make all of our decisions jointly, but I digress. I am no longer registered as a masters student at the Graduate Centre for the Study of Drama and I feel as though I maybe never was -- as though it was merely a typo on a long list of good decisions with positive repercussions. Coming to Toronto was a good decision. Deciding to enlist in higher education was a good decision. But drama, for me, was no longer a good decision. Part of me applied for the program because there was nothing else that I could see myself doing this year. Part of me applied just for the excitement and honor of getting in. I like challenges. I like to see how far I can take myself. I was proud to tell people that I was going to graduate school - it was something that very few people in my family (2, that I can think of ... My dad and a great-uncle) would be able to say. But I never really made the distinction between being passionate about getting a grad degree and being passionate about committing myself to 5 full credits of graduate drama.

Right away, I think, as soon as I went to my first class (which happened to be taught primarily IN Italian) I knew that I was in the wrong place. The things that I wanted to study in detail and the way I wanted to contribute my knowledge and passion no longer had any real connection to this community. I don't care about dramaturgy or directing or women in 20th century theatre or Canadian history ... or anything. I felt so indifferent that I debated attending my second class, and my third. I was in the wrong place. I want to teach and work with children and make decisions about curriculum and get people excited about art. So I went in today, explained this to my graduate co-ordinator (who sent me on my way with a big hug and a promise to stay in touch, bless her) and I'm done.

What next? I have no idea. I also, as of today, have no child support, no more interest-free student loans, no disability income from my mom's pension, no health insurance, no flight benefits, no money in my bank account and no job. And yes, I did happen to have a bit of a breakdown yesterday. But I'm so excited about the idea of spending a year on ME: making money (soon, soon), exercising, reconnecting with friends, volunteering for a group that I care about, getting to know Toronto, and most of all - NOT going to school, that my positives seem to brightly outshine any obstacles that I'm going to have to overcome. I have nothing but choices and therefore nothing but opportunities, all of which I can't wait to be a part of. I'm reminded of my favorite Jann Arden line, which I come back to every time I feel lost:

"feet on ground/heart in hand/facing forward/be yourself"

and I think to myself that I can really do it. It has been a REALLY big day for me, but like Steve told me last night, maybe it was the day AFTER I dropped out that I was really scared about. Hopefully tomorrow, when things are inevitably tough again, I won't forget how 'right' I feel right now.