An Elephant in Mouse-skin

I'm not quite sure how to express why this adventure of ours matters in written words.  Hopefully this disclosure won't bore you.  I think I speak for all three of us when I say, this isn't about the Renaissance Faire.  No, we aren't people who feel the need to wear cloaks on campus or spend our free time playing Ring Around the Maypole. While we might be atypical, we express our freak-flags in different ways.  Since this is my post, I can only disclose my own secrets.  (For instance, I enjoy pressing all the buttons on the elevator before getting off.)  Yet here we are, working our butts off and stretching our budgets further in order to make Pepper's crazy idea a reality.  If it were just about the Renaissance Faire, I don't think this idea would have ever made it off the ground.

What is it about then?  Why would three girls want spend the summer living in a car, living off paltry wages?

For me, this trip is like Rosalind's journey into the Forest of Arden, a pastoral time-out of sorts.  She is banished from court and disguises herself as a man. While I intend to remain a woman on this adventure, there is something to be said for dedicating a space of time for exploration.  After reading novels such as The Road and The Things They Carried, I've come to realize that leaving the environment we are comfortable with reveals what really matters.  The cultural hang-ups we find ourselves running into become irrelevant because that culture no longer applies.  And as a writer, getting at meaning through unconventional experience is everything.  What is left when we subtract the "-isms" we categorize ourselves by?  What is left when we subscribe to our own ideals of happiness rather than the ones society offers?  Which pieces of the self can one uncover?

Hopefully I haven't lost you.  Sorry, I'm applying literary theory to real life here and maybe the only person that would interest is me.

Anyway, identity, then, is defined by what you do.  I know some people who define themselves by the rules they live by.  I know others who do so by the rules they break.  Some girls define themselves by whether or not they have a successful relationship, others by their career.  Since I'm not a boy, I'm not sure what they define themselves by, but based off off the movies I've seen, it seems like some define themselves by whether or not they're virgins (or maybe it's their cars or how buff they are? that gender still baffles me).

I want to be the girl who has an idea and follows through.  I want to be the girl who dreams big and doesn't settle for what's practical just because it's safe or expected.  I want to dedicate myself to what makes me happy, such as writing and music, rather than to house payments or bills.  I want a life I can be passionate about.  I want to die knowing that I've lived each day to the fullest capacity possible, that I pursued every opportunity in my path and followed the mythical "what if" to its end.

As graduation approaches, I realize that the choices I make will determine the person I am, the life I live.  This trip affirms a commitment to the ideals I believe in.  It is a declaration of identity. 

So yes, the thought of washing my hair in a bucket and sleeping in the back of a car sounds exciting.  The thought of donning the garb and performing for whoever will listen puts a smile on my face.  I have been going to Renaissance Faires with my family ever since I was six years old and I have always wanted to work at one.  At the moment, the only person I'm accountable for is me, so why not live like a hippie for a few months and see the country?  My week will consist of sight-seeing, reading, playing music, doing yoga in fields, jump roping, running, and writing (and maybe practicing Kung Fu so I don't back-track too far).  I've also decided to use all that car time to study for the GRE so I can go to Graduate School in Fall 2012.  

Already I've been finding some clarity in terms of the next step I'll take because now I'm giving myself permission to take them.  After our adventure, I'm going to apply to graduate school for English literature and perhaps get my P.H.D. in creative writing.  It's time to shed the restrictive skin of convention and simply exist as myself...or something deep and sentimental like that. This might be the last serious post from me for awhile because it reeks of sentiment, which makes me break out in hives.  Oh well.--Jaenelle 

P.S Or do boys define themselves like girls?  By relationships or careers?  Or sports?  If boys are anything like girls, which I often suspect they are, then maybe there is no absolute definition :)