For once in my life, I decided subconsciously to do something innocent. I thought I'd be neat and tidy and chuck the rotten obnoxiously-decorated Halloween pumpkin into the woods; the one that has been sitting next to the coffee pot in my dorm room for a month and a half.
So I made it easy on myself.
Despite the blizzard, I slipped on some flip flops and leukophobia-minimizing sunglasses (hah) and burst out the back door with my All-American rejects t-shirt on and freshly straightened hair, pumpkin in hand. I trudged through the snow, toes exposed, and threw that little pumpkin towards the "rape trail" and made my way to the front door of Holmes Hall.
Now usually when I dress myself, according to my father, it's more like putting on a costume. And usually, I do this consciously and proudly. And usually, I do it because it's part of my...loud personality.
But I was just in a t-shirt and flip flops and sunglasses, just taking care of the pumpkin corpse, just making my way back to the dorm. I wasn't cold, because cold is a learned behavior.
But I guess a girl just can't wear a t-shirt in December without people thinking that she's making a political statement.
"Honey, you know it's winter, right? Just putting that out there..."
So they subconsciously encouraged me. So I did pull out my strut. So I did pretend I was making some sort of ludicrous statement.
You know why?
Because I am an actress who has been denied a theatrical stage for almost four months.
My stage is this dorm, my script is my life, and I am my own director.