I feel like doing something stupid.
Not taking-up-heroin stupid, more like riding-my-bike-to-a-German-techno-concert-while-a-cos-play-costume stupid.
My life has not been nearly ridiculous enough lately.
Normally, my life is pretty good at supplying its own ridiculousness. Between our crazy jobs, inconsistent lifestyles, and our perchance for setting out on adventures last minute without properly planning said adventures, I have plenty of occasion to stare at my predicament incredulously and ask myself, “What the fuck? Exactly which poor choice did I make to find myself in this situation?”
But not lately.
Lately, everything’s been going so…normal. Work’s been slow, so we’ve been home more than usual. That means less suicidal hours worked, less epic shows, and stakes that are relatively low. I wake up and workout without anyone attractive knocking on our door. We go for a bike ride and neither of us crashes into anything or discovers any secret hideaways. We eat lunch and no one gets food poisoning. We go to the store and I don’t see anything that warrants ridicule. I paint my nails without getting any of it on the carpet or my cats. We go for a hike and don’t get lost or see god. I make dinner without breaking or burning myself or anything else, nor do I create any culinary miracles. Nothing terrible has happened recently, but neither has anything wonderful. Nothing crazy, nothing absurd, nothing wild or fantastic or awful or shitty or fucked up.
We’ve just been being.
Some of it is the weather as of late. It’s hard to kick down life’s door and attack an adventure when it’s wrist-cuttingly gray outside and the sky looks like it’s going to pour the wrath of god at any moment. (I actually saw fleeting sunshine one afternoon, so I leaped off the couch, threw on my zip-up, grabbed my keys, and sprinted outside to my bike. I had just unlocked my bike when it began to hail. Seriously.) It’s doesn’t make for the kind of day that screams, “Let’s fucking DO THIS!” but the kind of day that mumbles, “Let’s spend all day wearing pajama pants and playing Mario Kart and eating Jelly Bellies.” Not very epic.
And maybe this is what we should be striving for. Stability, consistency, security. Knowing what the day will hold and how it will likely play out. Knowing what we can expect from the day. Having a plan of action for the day and having it play out more or less as expected. That is, after all, adulthood, isn’t it? Finding your rhythm and falling into your groove? Not flailing wildly, always trying to keep one step ahead and constantly fighting to find your footing, but having confidence in where you are and where you stand?
Perhaps. But that’s not for me.
I like when we’re exhausted and running on caffeine and adrenaline. I like when the shit hits the fan and it looks like there’s no possible way we’re going to make this happen but we have to so let’s fucking do this. I like heading out on an adventure with little idea of where we’re headed and a weak game plan. I like waking up early on little sleep or heading out late after a long day, getting in the car, saying to Kyle, “You realize this is a bad idea, right?” and hearing him respond enthusiastically, “This is a terrible idea,” and continuing on with our plan anyway. I like reaching the end of a day or a week or an adventure, completely drained, and thinking to myself, “Holy shit, I can’t believe we did that.” I like fighting and surviving and making it happen and getting through it. It feels like we’re really living.
Which is why I want to do something stupid.
I want to go out to the bar after work, knowing that we work another long day tomorrow. I want to get a tattoo or pierce something or dye my hair a ridiculous color. I want to go hike somewhere new or try geocaching. I want to try making pasta from scratch or try brewing our own beer. I want to try eating clean. I want to go see a band I’ve never heard of. I want to bike to someplace I’ve never been. I want to wake up and say, “Let’s go on a trip. Where do you want to go?” I want to set out without knowing how this will play out or where it will end and enjoy the excitement of the unknown. I want to suffer the consequences of our choices but not regret the outcome.
Come on, guys. Let’s do something stupid.
What are you doing Saturday night? Sadly, we don’t have a babysitter (K is booked at HMT) and cannot do anything epically stupid, other than inviting you guys over to get drunk and watch movies/play games here.
This is exactly how I’ve been living my life lately. The more ridiculous, the better. This week and next I’m working long hours in the office, coming home and taking naps, and it’s boring me to death. I too like adventures that start out as innocent nothings then take a turn for the (most delightful) worst. I like being so busy with fun, creative things that I barely have time to breathe. And I love that getting a tattoo can make you feel that way – I’m already planning more but trying to pace myself.
I’m not going to lie, hearing about all your adventures have only exacerbated the problem!
It must be in the air–I’ve been telling the rock star for a month or two now that it is far past [new] Tattoo Time for me.
-K
My question for both you and Miss Allison: How do you decide what’s important enough to put on your body? I desperately want a tattoo, but none of my ideas seem worthy of forever engraving on my body!
Same! Now that school is done for the year, I wanna do something adventurous. But what? I dunno. Everything is so BORING in this town and I can’t leave long enough to do something fun because of call-ins at work. BLAH.