Lake Bushwhacking

Today was just a day when I could not get down. I tried. I was given ample opportunity, but try as I might, that not-so-elusive melodrama as of late was missing. 

Everything just clicked today. This morning, when I woke up, I decided to have a what-the-hell-moment and change my hair part to the other side. Why, you might skeptically ask? Because I wanted to know how the rest of the world saw me. Yeah, that's me for you. 

Although this may sound like an un-bothersome occurrence it did in fact become a bothersome occurrence. 

I'm so used to having to flip my head in the opposite direction to get my bangs out of my eyes, that by the time I had flipped them in the wrong direction and then compensated for the now new direction I had developed a decent case of whiplash. I feel like I became slightly ambidextrous today, what with the having to use my left hand to move my hair out of my face. Okay, I'm a bit far off from that one. But I will tell you that ambidexterity is certainly on my horizon.

I had an excess amount of time today during lunch because one of my classes was cancelled, allowing for ample opportunistic reading time. Essentially, the best thing that ever happens to me. 

I've recently acquired a copy of Moby Dick and I can't stop laughing. I'm not entirely certain Herman Melville's intention was to make me laugh, but I can't help it. It's the little idiosyncrasies of several of the characters, the information that Ishmael feels the reader should know, and veiled truths that punch you straight in the face. Those don't make me laugh so much, but they certainly make my heart burn. There's one passage in particular that jumped straight off the page when I read it: "Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope."

Chew on that one. 

After class in the afternoon I meant to jump into the car and drive home, but the car itself meant to be jumped. And so, instead of calling someone to come jump the car, I decided to go on an adventure. After all, there'd be nothing to talk about if I had waited for aid. Instead, I decided to spontaneously bushwhack my way home, saying "of course not" to paths and demarcated roads, instead deciding to trudge across the frozen tundra of the lake. It was absolutely exhilarating, and freezing, what with snow up to my kneecaps in places, and utterly brilliant. It took a half an hour to get across, far from my guesstimate of a 10 minute jaunt. It was strangely surreal, walking across that frozen desert marked by car tracks and ice fishing shanties, the occasional Minnesotan waving in the distance. (Of course,  I didn't wave back--didn't want to encourage them, never know who's a psycho stalker, what with me being alone and in the middle of a lake trudging through snow trying to make sure that I didn't die from falling in or from being kidnapped, seriously people, my imagination is ridiculous and nefarious and absurd.)

Finally made it to the edge of the lake, at which point I sunk into a snow drift up to my hips. Which is saying something, considering my 5'10" frame. Then I had to scale the cliffs of insanity, well not really, but they were quite insane, and I felt a wee bit like Bear Grylls. Totally worth it. I must have looked like a crazy idiot crawling on all fours attempting to scale the hill, pulling off dead branches and splitting my coat zipper in the process. At which point I managed to make it to the road, the very slushy road, that would lead me to the house. Of course, not before every car on that road subsequently slowed down and looked at me in their rearview mirrors. The long trek of awkward social situations as I spontaneously burst out laughing at cars as they passed me by. Really, there must be something in the water here. 

Joy is inescapable.
On top of that, I get to go watch Braveheart tonight with a friend, which will just be a brilliant end to an even more brilliant day. 

And that's that for you. Just wittering on. 

Embracing adventure and taking control of my story,

M