Once a friend said something quite apropos "Why are we here anyway?"

It's 1:30am, I'm exhausted.
This blog may be filled with typos, forgive me, I just need to get this off of my chest. 
I just spent the last hour and a half venting more about non-romantic topics than I have in years. 
So I decided it would be a good time to pour my heart out into a blog. I did indeed create this blog to highlight my experiences since moving to Texas. Also, I just read a celebrity blog that was so honest that it gave me courage to honest about my current unhappy state in this state (see what I did there?). Thanks to Patrick Stump for the courage to publicly vent about my livelyhood. (again, check out his album Soul Punk) 
I'll go backwards...
I arrived home around 11:30 after a 3 hour opera practice of which I was never used; I'm a principal. I've been in many shows and have had my absolute fill of chorus times (not knocking it, those were grand learning experience and some of the most memorable moments of my life). As a chorus member I have grown used to my time being wasted as the director works with the principals. This entire experience has been the reverse. My character has so much to say and sing and so much emotion to portray, yet I have barely had any staging time with the director. If tonight was the only time I was called yet barely used, I wouldn't be as upset as I am, but it happens almost every rehearsal. There's a schedule telling us what pages we are doing, but when we get to rehearsal it's either changed or done in a different order. Sometimes, changing the order means I get to sit there for hours doing absolutely nothing. I have used this time to run lines, but I have other classes and music that needs to be practiced. That's about all I'm going to say in reference to opera rehearsals. They are late and waste my time. I would drop out but I am immensely excited about my role. My character is extremely interesting, caring and flawed. She pushes my acting and use of emotional inflections in song. She is exactly what I need to be working on at this point in my life. She's challenging but I still relate to her sadness and loving nature.
I've been sick for 3 weeks. I don't mean some upper respiratory problems or a cold. I mean I was physically unable to get out of bed. But get out of bed I did and I cried everyday. While showering, while walking to the bus, on the bus, and while grocery shopping at Walmart, I cried. This of course is seen in my school work. I am now behind in everything. Everyday I'm working on catching up, but my singing has suffered. My voice sounds as tired as I feel. My vocal stamina has decreased. My motivation is somewhat non-existent yet crucial to get through anything. I'm sure this leads me to the following doubts an regrets I am facing.
I don't know why I'm here. I've always been touchy about working on a second masters, I already have one in almost the exact area. But I got over it a little by the end of last semester. This semester I'm taking 2 pedagogy classes, one vocal, one theory. While the music theory class is fascinating, eye opening, and fun at times, it is sooooo much work. To top it off, we have to teach. I hate teaching. Always have. I don't want to teach. Never have. Yet I find my field of study is PEDAGOGY. I would infact love to teach privately or have a studio on the collegiate level, but both of my classes are CLASSROOM based. I am miserable everytime I have to use my colleagues to "teach" concepts we all know. I am never more self-conscious than when I am doing a teaching demo for my colleagues. Blah blah blah safe environment. They are all opinionated and some are just pig headed about it. I feel I am a fairly confident person, I'm a realist, but confident. I know I can sing, I know I am an above average singer. I also am well aware that being an above average singer basically means I am your run of the mill soprano. I have accepted this, and thinking I will not get the performance career I yearn to have doesn't make me without confidence, it makes me accept rejection with poise. Weakness is what I feel when teaching. I HATE feeling weak. I only have 3 classes and I dread going to 2 of them. This realization has made me quite miserable. Toping that off with my craptastic opera rehearsal schedule brings to that question "Why am I here?".
I'm not a quitter, I'm too proud and stubborn by nature to be a quitter. Yet, everyday the thought to drop out of school is nagging at me. I did't move 500 miles away from home to a state I've had an irrational hatred for my entire life to just accept defeat. But I am miserable, I haven't been in this bad of a mind frame since the week of my 25th birthday while trying desperately to pass the shankerian analysis portion of my comprehensive exams. 
...it's late, I'm loosing my train of thought...
The gist: I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Maybe I should just be auditioning. UTSA seemed so wonderful when I first got here, but it has just as many problems as anywhere else. I'm a big fish in a medium sized pond and yet I still can't find happiness. 
Conclusion: I might benefit from a therapist. But for now, you guys are my therapy. I know I don't have many readers but just knowing this is a public blog makes me feel like I'm being open for the world to see.

 It is now 3am. Goodnight

"And I will lay my burden down Rest my head upon that shore"

I am supposed to be finishing a last minute class assignment but I can’t bring myself to start just yet. For 20 years of my life I was up at the crack of dawn getting ready while seasonal music played loudly and my dad sang along as he shaved for a day filled with delicious food, family, music, crowds, and an obscene amount of beads...yes Mardi Gras.

As you may have noticed, my family is always ready for a party...Mardi Gras was no exception.

That being said, I grew up with a fairly healthy respect and rather unhealthy love for this somewhat gluttonous but amazing season. That's right, season. We start celebrating way in January on twelfth night and it just keeps growing and culminates on the Tuesday that is fat.

As a kid, I was obsessed with the mysticism of early Mardi Gras traditions. I loved any PBS documentary about krewes of yesteryear and I longed to attend a old fashion Mardi Gras ball where you identity was a secret hidden behind a beautifully pompous gown and mask. In elementary school we had shoe box float making contests and a mini parade. In 4th grade I had to do a project board and my topic, of course, was the history of Mardi Gras. I had fun reading all the old books and looking at pictures of the elaborate handmade invitations and bedazzled everythings....

Have I convinced you enough of my ridiculous love of this holiday where the average person just likes to get drunk and stuff their faces while the average New Orleanian uses the break as an excuse to go skiing? While I see nothing wrong with looking at Mardi Gras as just a day of food & drink, it is so much more to me.

Since I cannot go into the significance and history of Mardi Gras at this moment, to understand the warm fuzzies I feel I suggest listening to this link. Most Mardi Gras songs are heavy with loud raucous music and Zydeco, I love them, however Paul Simon epitomizes it for me. His words describe how my city makes everything better. His chill samba-esque drag with light cymbals and raked drums exemplifies how seasoned locals stroll to their own beat while tourists go manic. It's nostalgic, reverent, dreamy, and endearing. The song ends with the perfect example of New Orleans jazz and the famous spirit of revelry, a prevalent trumpet honks loudly and drunkenly while a clarinet carelessly moves up and down the scale and throws  its voice like a laughing middle aged women dancing in the street. (My mother & I often rewound the song just to hear the end again, we always thought it could have went on longer)

Bake a makeshift King Cake and wherever you find yourself in this country, try to have a little personal Mardi Gras before we begin the 40 days of penance and reflect on both the sorrowful pain and joyful gift of Christ's death. God wants us to be happy, that's why He made us and that's why we have Mardi Gras.

And as I leave you with the lyrics of Paul Simon's song, I beg you to take a hint from us in NOLA and Laissez les bons temps rouler! <3

C'mon take me to the Mardi Gras

 Where the people sing and play

Where the dancing is elite

And there's music in the street

Both night and day

Hurry take me to the Mardi Gras

In the city of my dreams

You can legalize your lows

You can wear your summer clothes

In the New Orleans

And I will lay my burden down

Rest my head upon that shore

And when I wear that starry crown

I won't be wanting anymore

Take your burdens to the Mardi Gras

Let the music wash your soul

You can mingle in the street

You can jingle to the beat

Of Jelly Roll