Really what's mostly gone on, is a whole bunch of welding, and as much mountain biking as I can fit in. My handlebar callouses are back. Perversely, I kind of like these. Same with the bruises on my legs. Feels like part of the uniform I guess.
Other illicit thrills? Well, let's see-- rented a few movies (wild huh?), went out with the girls one night, some peanut m&m's and pizza were consumed (!), stayed up WAY late several nights (just couldn't sleep really)-- one night was kind of reminiscent of the old wild days though.
For some unknown reason my friend's son, who just turned 18 is not repelled by me. I think he feels like an odd-ball sometimes, and I'm like, "Fantastic! Normal = boring. Let's be odd together!"
I was up late one night and whined on FB about feeling all pent-up and rowdy and playmate-less, and he happened to be online too and was like, "Let's hang out!" It resulted in a midnight bike ride around town in total darkness (no lights), and a super late movie night.
I have to say, riding around essentially blacked-out, feeling the cool night air on my face, all amped and wild felt awesome. I used to be practically nocturnal, and my favorite thing was to ride or walk around at night, and just feel secretive and badass and check stuff out. It was fun to revisit that thrill. I'm not afraid of stuff like that. There were some people out, young guys skulking around in the shadows and some drunks down by the bars yelling stuff, but I've found if you are pretty game yourself and look right at people, they just aren't sure about you, and don't mess with you. It ads to the fun, not that this is part of my regular life anymore. *Sigh*
Tonight my art pals Gene & Chris stopped by to check out the venue. They're in the show Sat. Gene showed up in this. Looks like a nice vest right?
The vest is actually part of this grill he made. Unbelievable!
He gave it steel toed boots too.
I wouldn't want to be me in a vacuum. He sort of teathers me, gives me lots of rein, but the reins are there, in the form of me wanting him to be happy and pleased with me.
He knows me, even if parts of me still mystify him at times. Here's a piece of driftwood he smuggled out of Canada for me, making his fishing buddies drag it across a HUGE lake for me too. It's one of my prized possessions.
Here's one of the first things he gave me (the clam shell. I added all the treasures over the years)-- after I turned up my nose at flowers and this hideous picture of a unicorn backed by gold metallic foil that was his first gift attempt. I was like, "Don't get me anything else okay? You don't have to." Then he brought me the clam shell because it had this cool purple color inside. He found it canoeing and I was like, "Now you get it." ~big love eyes~
So far I think I'll just stay in, and go to bed at a reasonable hour, and sort of pick up so he can come home to a bit less chaos than he left. But only a little less. ;) I'm still here after all.