I've come to a rather shocking issue that I didn't think would crop up in this adventure. I already live my life pretty much by the seat of my pants as it is! So learning to do it is becoming a challenge because I simply don't know what else I can do.
On the full moon of this month I am joining a couple friends with some runes and Ouija boards in a cemetary to speak to the dead as a fun little adventure, but honestly, I'd probably do that without this month to sponsor the idea. Frankly, I stole the idea from my friend Sharon, who can't make it to the event SHE brought up one day during lunch. Yep, not only do I steal, I don't even bother to make sure the person I stole from can enjoy the event, haha.
I'm also going to see Outback Spectacular this month. I also have plans to drive to the middle of nowhere and skinny dip in a, most likely, crocodile infested river. (It's Australia, it's better to assume things will kill you - and then just get over the idea and do shit anyway).
I am reading this book called Down Under by Bill Bryson and in it, the author travels Australia and tells Australian stories of things he heard. I have been to just about (well, actually, so far, ALL) of the places Bill has mentioned. I even took the same walk along the same path in Bondi he did when he was in Sydney. I even have been to the same exact beach and soaked my toes in the same exact water as the story he told where a kid was severely stung by box jellyfish. I have already BEEN living! For fuck's sake, I jumped in a famous box jellyfish (read: deadliest creature in the WORLD) infested ocean knowing full well it could right kill me.
I have steered a camel across the centre of Australia, in Ayers Rock. I have driven to the countryside and sung Australian folk songs with people missing teeth (and had broken limbs from, get this, bull riding) around a bonfire made of old Bridgestones. I have flashed my ass to 30,000 people at the same time to a group of dirtbike stunt enthusiasts at a Crusty Demons show (and I got $150 for the priviledge!). I made out with a sword swallower seconds before I dakked him in front of the same show to show his girly red lacey knickers. Sad to know, if you were ther, that it was staged, isn't it? The part where I made out with the sword swallower wasn't though - that was just me being a dag, just like the time I stole a pair of footy shorts from a famous Cronella Shark.
I have climbed down unknown stairs in an alleyway in Adelaide without knowing what was in the depths of the rickety wooden dark entrance (an antique shop, with damn good prices, actually). I have mustered cattle in Australia and bought designer heels in LA. I have travelled across the entire damn globe with nothing to my name but a suitcase of clothes and a few hundred dollars.
I have gotten drunk on mead at renfaires. Hell, I've even made the mistake of being married once before (though my divorce papers clearly show a SEVEN YEAR gap in my ability to do THAT one again). I've lived in snow. I've lived in sunshine. I've lived in the shadows of buildings taller than some people can begin to imagine. Hell, I hold almost three passports. Once this year is done, I will have that third one in my hands. I am literally 5 months away from that. After my marriage, my husband can get British and I will hold four. Four damn passports. By the age of 24. How the FUCK am I NOT living already? Honestly.
New experiences are what I do best, damn it. I take the piss out of life and pretty much have little regard for the human capacity to, well, die easily. I think that's what makes me Australian. Yes, I know I'm NOT Australian, but it's what makes me one. Aussies are good at the not fearing death thing. You pretty much have to be to live here. Of course, I've noted, a lot of Aussies really don't live, even though they don't fear death like a normal person does. They go to work, have a beer at the pub, go home, eat dinner and wake up the next day to do it again. Every now and again they dreamily talk about hiring a camper van and settling off to the Outback to 'live', which they finally do when they're somewhere in their late 60s, if they can afford it.
So what, exactly, am I supposed to DO this month? Be myself? The self-improvement aspect of this month is quite nice, however, and I am keeping up with that in getting dancing lessons and singing lessons to tide my learning desire over for the month. After that, I pretty much do exactly what I say already.
I've never stolen a street sign with my name on it (which is more common than a 'roo here to have streets named after me) and I'd like to do that, but that's kinda highly illegal and stupid to post about if I did end up doing it. Part of me is like, "Fuck I'm 24 and I've never done this 15 year old thing of stealing a street sign! I am more mature than that now, so I shouldn't do it." and another part of me is picking exactly where the damn sign should go on my wall. Ha. But really, I doubt theivery is considered living and probably won't do that one. If you see a street sign at my house, I paid for it, really I did.
So now it's time to figure out how to bump my life up a notch. And for the fucking life of me, I don't know how. Suggestions?