See Good Days.

Do you like my yellow European raincoat? Yes, well. Meeee too.

So, there's a scripture in Peter. And it talks about seeing good days. Not having good days, but seeing them. I feel like that's really important... because you won't always have good days. But you can always see them. Happy, right?

Well. Today I not only saw a good day, I had one.

First of all, my friend Micah brought me some Top Ramen. I happen to think that is top notch. Because I STILL can't eat solid foods. Awesome. What's better is she brought a mixing bowl for me to use while I ate, and we made it in the microwave. Classy points are off the charts here, people.

So we're in the computer lab... NOT trying to reformat our assignments a half hour before class if that's what you're getting at.... And this woman comes up. And I smile at her, and she kind of hovers and walks away. So I go back to working. Well, she comes back, and she is making eye contact, really awkwardly. So I smile and look back to my assignment. She stood there for about a minute or two, before she slid me a paper asking for a dollar or so, so that she could get some water from the vending machine. The paper explained that she'd been out of money and work for about a week or so. Immediately, I thought about my Grandpa Ballif.

The last day I posted, a little over a month ago, I had just gotten home from spending the day in the hospital with him as he left this world. It was a day in my life that was just... big. An experience I am still wrapping my brain around before I go to write about it. Anyway, my grandpa was the kind of person who made hundreds of people feel like they were the one closest to him. Seriously. Every person who knew felt like they were his favorite. And there have been multiple times in my life that I have witnessed my grandpa taking the shirt off of his back - literally - to give to someone. I have seen people ask for a dollar and receive all the money he had in his wallet.

I gave her a couple dollars, and she signed thank you. I wish I could express how beautiful this woman was, and the sudden love I felt for her. It was such a blessing for me to be able to help her. I signed "you're welcome," and as she walked away, I wished so badly that I had known she was deaf at the beginning of our exchange, so I could've signed some and at least attempted to make the encounter more comfortable for her. There's that part of me that thinks, did they really need the money? But today, there was a much larger part of me saying, does it even matter? I was lucky to meet her.

After my afternoon class, I drove up to the GT building on campus to go to auditions. Oh, wait, what? No.. you read that right. This is a real thing. So... the thing is. It's been a long while since we talked about my theatre class, but it turns out I hate it. Not just dislike, but I honestly dread going to class. One time we had a sub in there, who GOT it. He understood theatre. And I was so happy about it. He guided us to our choices, but didn't make them for us. He respected our work, and he told us to breathe. Well, life was awesome for that day. Then my teacher came back, and I performed what I thought was a beautiful scene. I got a 6/10, because my choices were wrong. Um... nope? You can guide someone to stronger choices and help them find it, but I don't understand how you tell someone there is a right way and a wrong way to do art? Anyway. It's reached the point where I know by the time I do my final scene performance in class, after working it with him, I will literally hate whatever scene I am doing. It, is, awful. And never in my life did I think I'd be scrambling for extra credit to get an A in a theatre class. Like... hi, sir. I thought this was... for non majors? Oh, no.. that's cool. Keep crushing my favorite parts of myself. I AM HAPPY ABOUT IT. Not ... really though. Not that happy.

But I needed extra credit, and when I heard of ten minute play auditions... I was definitely intrigued. They're like one acts.. or scenes in the directing unit... but mostly, they are theatre having nothing to do with my teacher. It's not that I don't respect that he has a Master's degree or that he knows more than me. It's that everyday I walk away from his class sad, and I don't think that's what art is like. Especially for non-majors. I don't need my ego stroked, and I don't think I am better than I am. But thanks to this class... I have lost nearly all confidence in what I once thought were talents and good qualities in myself. And that, my friends, is no fun at all. Especially not in college, which is a bit of a wobbly time anyway.

With all that in mind, there are other ways to get extra credit, and I had very little confidence going into these auditions. I have been internally arguing with myself all day as to whether I would actually go. When I parked my car, I still wasn't sure. So I just said a prayer. I asked Heavenly Father to make this fun, and happy. I asked Him to remind me that I love it, and that I love the things it brings out in me. I asked Him to make it feel like home again.

Right as I got out of my car, I heard someone say, "Shelby Ballif?!" I am not lying to you when I tell you that tears came to my eyes. It was my friend Katie, someone I always love seeing, but someone who I especially needed to see before an audition. Katie was in Advanced Theatre with me my senior year. She makes me feel safe, and reminds me of what I can do. Without words. Her very presence is exactly what I needed. I asked her if she had a class, and to my delight, but not quite surprise (that prayer thing works FAST sometimes), she told me that she was going to the auditions for extra credit in her theatre class. Standing in the hall filling out a paper was weird, and some theatre people are weird. I'm weird.

But I got to go through the whole audition process, as well as two callbacks with her. (She had many more than two. She is talented and cute like that.) I couldn't have felt more comfortable. I got to laugh and be crazy. I got to interpretive dance and awkwardly protest, and make people laugh. I cried real-tears when someone held a finger gun to my head and shouted at me. I had, soooo much fun. I felt happy, and I felt like me. I felt a release. And I'll be honest, it's college. There were so many bigger fish in the pond. I am pretty sure I won't be getting a part in the morning, and I am okay with that. That is not what I needed. I got what I needed. I loved theatre again. I created.

And as I walked out to my car after, in the Spring sunshine with a good friend, I felt a lightness I am not sure I have fully felt since being in college.

Also, we may or may not have stopped at Sammy's and gotten pie shakes. And I may or may not have written the following on the wall:

People always write "forever," but food for thought is creepier and that's how we like it.

As I was driving home, still feeling light and the sunshine in life and in me, I was stopped at a light. There was a homeless man with a sign, asking not for money, but for anything. He said anything would help. I looked around my car for anything to give him, a water bottle, granola bar, or something. But all I had was the dollar left in my wallet. I rolled down my window and gave him that. He came over and seemed surprised. He grabbed my hand, and I didn't have a bad feeling at all. Only love for this man. We locked eyes, and I felt how truly grateful he was. He thanked me, and I told him to have a good day. Again, he seemed so surprised - like no one had said that to him in years. He nodded, and his face broke into a smile. "I really will," he told me. We both laughed, and waved, and the light went green.

I'm home now, with an empty wallet, feeling much richer than when I left the house this morning. And I don't think I have stopped smiling. Also, I might have heard from my best friend in Hawaii. Which is kind of cool. So let me tell you something. Sometimes life is really hard. Sometimes you have roommates who are certifiable and cause you to make multi-colored paper chains counting the days until you move away from them. Sometimes the second semester of college feels like Senioritus, only worse because you know it will go on for years and yeeeeears.

But sometimes, also, you see good days. And sometimes, you even HAVE good days. You have experiences, encounter people, feel things, that give you no choice but to see a whole lot of good, all around you. :) This is a novel, but I think you can excuse my ramblings after a month-long absence. I love you! Have a wonderful day!