Note to Self

I declared myself a writer at age five when I discovered that a by-line was one of the most effective ways to get attention that I had ever before achieved. I then began to discover as I grew up that “writer” was also far more interesting than doctor, lawyer or candlestick maker; that also was a plus to this decision. When people would ask me what I would write I would answer something silly, something equally as different, so that I may receive the same reaction. It was not until much later that these attributes that made me foolishly choose my course in life were befitting a writer; in fact writer just seemed to be befitting of me. But the truth of the matter remained; I simply had not yet had anything to write about. They say write what you know, the more interesting writers council to write about your adventures.

Putting off any writing that might affect my future I went forth and began what I believed might be my very first adventure. I came out the other side and sat down in the figurative dirt road and wept. In all reality it was my pink polka dot bed, and I hadn’t really come out of the Jungle, lost any tragic love, or saved the children of some forgotten land. Adventure does not come in that way though, not for most that is. There are those few that have that benefit, that way to “really experience life,” but that is not what most of us call life, no, we call that adventure. People who desire the discovering of Atlantis and the theft of some hidden art piece fail to recognize the moments they have where they sit down on the dirt road and weep.

No, no, my excuse to not write because I am awaiting something to write about is now most certainly invalid. Life is the great adventure that we all face, and I must reveal this. A pirate who is hung can draw parallels with a thirty-year-old man who overcame his past and still…still must pay. So if being dragged through Hell, abducted by bandits, inserting yourself with a substance that turns you into a monster and finally building a house of gold is not proof of where real adventure lies I begin, from this day onward, to challenge that disbelief. I will write what I know and all that I know.

Mini-analogy

I had a magnificent opportunity recently go enjoy a roller coaster ride. Now normally, I'm afraid of roller coaster rides. And after a certain age, nuh uh, there is no way you are getting me on one I have never ridden before. So let's use logic. We know this ride would not be blog worthy if I had ridden it before. And I just contradict myself.

I did get on the ride, a stranger peer pressured me. Most of the ride I was closing my eyes just as tightly as I was screaming, sometimes thinking that I sounded like a man. I could just see it. My friend standing at the exit smiling his cocky little smile and laughing his cocky little laugh. Exempting yourself from a half flipped free falling loop-dee loop was not my idea of friendship. After my ears stopped ringing I hear the manly scream again, but my mouth was closed. I was not ridding this baby alone.

I looked over and saw him just before the final drop, he gave me a smile and lifted his hands above his head and looked straight down. As we plunged to near death I found myself waving my hands in the air laughing myself silly.

The cars pulled up to the loading station slowly. The man who had sat with me squeezed my hand and asked in a hoarse voice "Wasn't that fun?" We jerked to a stop and the harnesses came up. I pondered this question, then I pondered the conveniently placed barf bag at my side. he took my hand and lifted me out of my seat. "Well, I had fun." he said as he kissed my forehead.

The ride was over, I had made it out alive, which is always a plus, and according to my rules now I could ride it again, if I ever had the inkling to completely incapacitate myself again. Despite that, I still hadn't answered the question. I thought about it all, every head bob, every speed jump and all those times my stomach hit my brain. The stranger was walking away. I had to yell, my ears were still ringing. "HEY GUY!" He turned around, cocking one eyebrow. "THANKS FOR GOIN' WITH ME, TURNS OUT, I HAD FUN!"

So yes, the workers were really mad that I yelled, and the next costumers stopped mid-entrance, but heck who cares. The ride was over, and not even a pimpled boy in a stripped vest calling security to drag me out of that ride without the fond knowledge, that I can ride that ride again some-day.