1. Direct a Play

Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially a professional theatre director.

Of course, I've directed things before. Scenes and showcases and readings. One acts and 10-minute plays-- usually starring kids and teens or written by kids and teens. But this was my first experience directing a full-length, two-act, grown-up play. And I have never been prouder of an artistic accomplishment in my life.

The weeks and months I spent planning, rehearsing, eating, sleeping, and living Riding The Bull with my friends and collaborators at TheatreLAB were some of the most challenging, fun, exciting, and overwhelming times of my life. And the end result ended up being sorta brilliant, if I do say so myself.

Now,  that could come off as arrogant. And I suppose it would be if it were only my work I was talking about. But I was just one piece of the puzzle. Yes, I chose the script and made decisions regarding casting and design and did all the other director-y things that a director does, and I'm certainly proud of my decisions and thoughts and how they ultimately showed up in the final product. But the wonderful thing about this particular theatrical endeavor was how every single person involved put so much of themselves into telling the story with me. From the production manager who pulled branches out of her back yard and basically packed an entire tree on top of her SUV and brought it to the theatre when one of our set elements disappeared in the second week of performance, to the managing director who baked pies to sell at intermission, to the lead actor who basically furnished the set with items from her parents' farm-- the blood, sweat, tears and family heirlooms of our entire cast and crew went into this show. I'm proud of the work we all did and ecstatic that the final product made that hard work pay off.

Truth be told, I am a little nervous that my next foray into directing will only shy in comparison to this one. I could go on for pages about every step of the process and how fantastic it all felt. And I know from so many of my past experiences with theatre, that though this sort of kismet experience is what we always strive for, in practice, it's a rarity. I especially know that I can't expect every future endeavor to feel as rewarding as this one, but I'll be damned if I don't shoot for the stars with the next one.

And when I get frustrated (because I will get frustrated, even this near-perfect process was far from frustration free), I'll close my eyes, take a deep breath, and go back to Godsburg, Texas, where, in the dirt and dust of a rodeo and a cattle ranch, I first set down my roots as a director.

27. Unscripted.

Remember that time I started a whole new blog and told my faithful readers (of my one blog post) to check back soon for a list of 27 things I hoped to do at 27 but then got so swamped with life at 27 that I just gave up on the list all together for a while.

Well, that's pretty much what 27 has been like so far.

The three months and six days that have passed since January 31 have been a whirlwind and I've hardly had time to think about what I've been doing as I've done it, much less come up with a set of goals for the months ahead. So, instead of racking my brain to create a single long list of things I hope 27 will bring, I'm returning to the idea of an annual bucket list from a revised perspective. This year (what's left of it), I'll attempt to record my accomplishments and big life experiences as they happen. That WAS the idea behind my new blog title, after all.

I'm aiming for 27 blog posts between now and January 31, 2014. Each detailing a new life experience I am having in my 27th year. That's three posts a month. Seems feasible. And structured enough to motivate me to do something cool with my life (or maybe to recognize the things in my life that are cool as is). It's worth a shot, right??