Out Of The Box

So last night I had girl's night out with my friend and a new friend who is really cosmic. I made a bonfire outside my nearly completed shop and we talked until midnight. Then when I came inside after they left could I just go to sleep like a normal tired person -- no. No I could not. I had to stay up another two hours reading and rehashing all the cosmicness. Now I'm sitting here still trying to wake up but mostly staring blankly off into space wishing I had the where-with-all to go get some caffeine. Enough is enough. Be right back.

Ok. A little better now.

So among the things my new cosmic friend shared with me was that I should be trying lots of new things right now to shake things up. I already had a few things in mind but now feel even more encouraged to go for it. I think if you don't force yourself out of your box you can begin turning into an "old person" at almost any age. I'm not ready for that yet. Actually I hope to be still finding new things to try out well into my eighties or nineties.

I really have been into the idea of drum lessons lately. I think I'll go for it. The worst that can happen is that I'll try it, be hopelessly bad at it or not think it's as fun as I thought it would be, and possibly be laughed at by some employees of the local music store. Or--- it could be super fun (like it looks) and I could discover I have some weird, savant-ish, undiscovered drumming mojo and become so good my beloved Foo's would call and ask me if I'd consider hanging out with them, you know, just playing ping pong and maybe sitting in on a few songs.

Another Idea I have is mountain biking. This involves some risk. Both trusty Pam and I have taken spectacular spills running the course lately. Mine I'm calling a rolling sider, or corndog, because I tripped and sailed shoulder first into the dirt and proceeded to tumble and roll downhill becoming coated in a layer of tasty cornbread -- er-- no, actually dirt. Pam more or less launched herself shoulder first into a log. While it stopped her from tumbling downhill, it was pretty painful.

When we run we always encounter mountain bikers who mostly seem really cool and almost superhumanly brave. There are these two guys we always see who we call our pretend boyfriends behind their backs. To their face we call them "the cool guys." I peg them as either graphics or music guys, or possibly one of those engineer hybrids who are sort of geeky-cool. Every time we run by them they each make a point of saying hi, which in guy world is making a concerted effort of some kind. One will say, "oh you guys -- hey," and the other will smile and say, "hi." Then one of us will go, "Hey, it's the cool guys!" Yes, it's pretty intense. We're practically engaged. One of them has glued horns to his helmet that both me and Pam are jealous of.

To be honest, the possibility of a blinged-out mountain biking helmet is probably about 40% of the allure for me. Right now I ride with a regular helmet with magnetic poetry glued on saying stuff like, "ride like a girl." (You know, in other words -- awesomely.) I also have an orange bandanna tied to my camelback that sometimes flares out behind me like Underdog's cape. My bike has a giant, old-school bike bell on it and a handlebar hula girl who squeaks when you squeeze her. I used to have a little Wonder Woman figure glued on top of my back light who would shake her fist at all the people left in the wake of my blistering speed, but she broke off.

For the mountain bike helmet I'm considering a black "eight ball" helmet from Nutcase. Yes, it even says that on the front. I like that guy's horns but don't want to be a copier, so am thinking of orange, pink and red accented flames, maybe in rhinestones. Kind of Evil Kenevel right? Then of course there's learning how to actually ride the trail, but hey, once the outfit is squared away I'm sure the rest will fall into place.

Lastly I think I'm going to bite the bullet and find a writing group. Probably somehow affiliated with The Loft. This is a scary one for me -- exposing my writing to the criticism of strangers, especially other possibly frustrated writers, but could be helpful. You know, "growth." (ugh.)

So what would be some things that you guys would consider trying, to shake things up, take you out of your box? It's your life -- don't chicken out!