Adventures Galore

I have been riding the wave lately in terms of job progress and finally got over a serious valley. But now that the harder part is over, what does that leave? No more crying to strangers on the street while drunk? No more crying God for what seems to be my perpetual self- destructive lot in life? I often wonder if I am just one of those people who functions best when things are hard because I thrive having things to complain about or keep me interested by the constant challenges.

I found this company called The Adventurists who "fight to make the world less boring". They hold competitions mostly in India and South America by mongol or rickshaw that benefit charity. It sounds like something I would sign up for if I had the cash. They romanticize and idealize an experience that could be potentially fatal. On a single HTML page I managed to find a warning.

"These adventures are genuinely dangerous things to do. The website is written in a light-hearted fashion but you cannot underestimate the risks involved in undertaking this kind of adventure. Your chance of dying can be very high, some past teams have been seriously injured. These adventures are not a glorified holiday. They are an adventure and so by their very nature extremely risky. You really are on your own."

What if every adventure in life came with a label like this? The bad boyfriend, the no-end job, the school that isn't worth the money, or just the everyday ways in which we make our lives more interesting?

Destination Marfa

I am feeling antsy and this is where I would go if someone handed me some money to-day. Marfa. I am trying really hard to get into this band but it's progressively getting harder to get into bands. Most of the time I just want to dance.

Listening:Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Cascade, Alexis Penney.

Mama's 60th

I am back in Chicago and sometimes it is hard to leave a place where I have so much only to return to feeling like I have so little. It's like replacing everything anyone could want in life with a few material comforts that Chicago has afforded me. When I think about why I feel compelled to put myself thru such torture it is good to remind myself that any of my successes will ultimately benefit those I love, just as they have taken care of me when I so need their help.

My sister told me today she thinks when I am 30 I will adopt a fat Mexican boy named Joaquin. I really liked the idea of me and just a bunch of kids hanging out and throwing water balloons eating ice cream. It's kind of awesome actually. Too bad that's years away from happening.

Biltmore Beauty

When I was a little girl, I remember going to the Biltmore House in North Carolina and being absolutely memorized touring the grounds. I still have the postcard of Mrs. Vanderbilt's purple velvet and gold room which I kept close as a reminder of what I expected my own aesthetic to take after. I found some infrared photos someone had taken of the grounds, and I miss having those kinds of beautiful things to latch onto. The Midwest doesn't come close to the scenery of the south.