Bob and Lynda had me over and out for Halloween and, being habitually paranoid about driving during holidays cuz I’m afraid of getting killed by drunks on the road, I fretted about the offer for a while but, knowing I’d otherwise just sit stewing at home, I parked at the apartment after work and Ubered over to their place and we drank for a bit before heading out to a little brewery and, after that, to a bar called Gramps where I’ve been told for years that I need to go — and with good reason. It was fun. And not too expensive. I played Bingo with drag queens and danced on a table and talked with strangers. Got drunk.
Meanwhile I’m seeing on Instagram that Rosie is somewhere nearby but I pocket my phone and focus on where I am, the people I’m with, the things I’m doing.
And I’ve probably had a handful of nights like this in my life, floating from bar to bar with friends and getting a little outta my comfort zone, having fun, but in this case it felt especially urgent. Like if I were to suddenly pause or get quiet then entropy would take over and it’d be confirmed that I’m lame. Fatally lame.
I was drunk when I got home and before making some ramen I sent a DM to Rosie saying I miss her and then went to bed shortly afterward.
And the next day I felt good. I was hungover, and had to start my shift a bit early cuz a colleague walked out, but I felt fulfilled in a way that’s different but similar to what I feel when I’ve spent a whole day writing and watching movies. It’s a feeling, I guess, of having seized the day, so to speak. I talk all the time about the blissful stress and frenzy of tryna bustle through the Project, and how that productivity is the only thing that fulfills me these days. But my experience on Halloween, of being uncharacteristically gregarious and taking (perceived) risks and talking with strangers, is making me think that what I’m actually jonesing for in life right now is activity, is growth. I’m tryna learn about and consume things, meet people, have my viewpoints challenged and changed.
But I realize too that movement doesn’t equal growth. I was just watching this interview with Richard Pryor, late in his life, and when he was asked to describe his multiple sclerosis in a word he said “gift” and when the interviewer asked him how his illness was a gift he said that it forced him to stop. To appreciate things. Not let the joys keep slipping by.
So I’m trying to move a lot, see a lot, get a lot done. But I know I need to stop once in a while to reflect. And maybe that’s what I’m doing by blogging regularly about personal stuff.
Or maybe I’m totally misunderstanding the idea of a “pause” and need to go stare at the ocean for an hour. Clear my head. Drink some macha.