Practically Paris [10.22.08]

Today was a stressful day, and I could not wait until Down to Earth (DTE). It would finally be my chance to unwind my mind and revitalize my spirit. I walk over to the chapel and enter the lobby, where I met up with my friends. Tonight we were early, so we looked around for an opportunity to waste some time. A second or two later, my friend spotted a large fan in the corner of the room. After he pointed it out, we all looked at each other and nodded. He turned it on high as we each took turns walking in front of it for our own impromptu fashion show. As far as we were concerned, we were the only ones that could see what we were doing, so there was nothing to be embarrassed about. If that were true, this entry would be quite humorless. Moments later, there was a tap on the door. Looking up, we could see that there were plenty of people present at DTE, just not in the lobby. So I sheepishly crab-walk over to the fan and turn it off. Thus, the fashion show came to an abrupt halt. In the next few moments I got to thinking: what did it matter? Everyone has participated in at least one stupid act during their lives, so it was simply dumb luck that others saw ours. Then I started to feel grateful for being caught in the act: better for someone to draw conclusions from seeing the real me than to take a stab in the dark. In acting, for example, it is the actor's job to make things clear for the audience. Sure, purposeful assumptions are acceptable, but playing it safe is never good when trying to portray a character. In order for someone to play the role of the "intoxicated party guy", one must take the necessary steps to show the audience that person. One cannot half-stumble or just "sort of" spill a drink. In both the real world and the acting realm, actions and intentions need to be made perfectly clear.