What if I want to be a snowmobile pirate?

I’m not sure why the urge to write something always occurs for me right when I don’t have the time to follow through. It’s horribly inconvenient. For example, several nights in a row last week I woke up at 3am with random thoughts that I was dying to put up here. Clearly I didn’t indulge myself, which was probably wise since I can’t remember a single one of my earth shattering 3am discoveries. I probably just saved you all from irrelevant and incoherent chatterings. You’re welcome.

Lately I’ve felt pretty scattered. Everything is great in life, except for allergies. Allergies can go die in a very very very hot fire. I’m not impressed with them. But other than that, life is pretty great. Boyfriend and I are great, friends and I are great, there was wedding dress shopping (not for me. I’m not engaged. Duh. But it was fun just the same!)… But I feel without direction. I’m trying to embrace it, but some days I can’t help but wonder why I don’t know what I want to do. It’s not that I’m bored, it’s that I’m 25 and maybe what I want to be when I grow up is a snowmobile pirate. Who knows? But I will never know, because I never have and probably will never try being a snowmobile pirate.

And that kind of sucks.

A little over a year ago I hit up Paris and Barcelona with a good friend. She was trekking across the world, in the process of moving to New Zealand for a year. For funsies. Because she wanted to. I’ve always envied her that… She picked up and moved around the world because she wanted to, without a worry about friends and family back home. I have always wanted to try that, but I don’t want to leave my family and boyfriend behind. I would take at least the boy with me… but then it wouldn’t be my adventure, which I find problematic. So I settle for short trips to fun places, adventure-light I like to call it.

But being a snowmobile pirate could be pretty great….


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