i find myself full of tossings to and fro again. this is a remarkably well-worn pattern in my life: i keep waiting for the impulse to constantly be in motion to fade itself down to a dull roar. but i’ve always been a rambler, in my way. as soon as i got a drivers license and a car, i would just… go. with my daddy’s blessing, and the fact that i could fill my entire tank for $10 (!!!), i drove around a lot. southern alabama is well-suited for long, meandering car trips with no point to them. my high-school boyfriend and i were bored watching movies the summer before i went to college, so we got in my car and drove 90 minutes to gautier, mississippi. we got a box of cookies and ate it in the parking lot of the jitney jungle grocery store, chatted with some police officers and drove back to mobile. the point was not the destination, it was the movement. we sped through the country, under a big full moon, not going anywhere, just going.

you’re not supposed to be like this when you have bills and a career and a forever-love (who also has bills and a career). with age and responsibility is also supposed to come a good old-fashioned dose of happiness in stability. and it’s not like i’m miserable at work or in a bad living situation. both my job and my pad are completely sweet in just about every way (minor annoyances notwithstanding). but i am itchy. i am locked in a near-constant battle with the little voice in the back of my brain that, when i imagine it, looks like a cartoon dog, head out the window of a car, big goofy doggy-grin, saying hi! where are we going now? where are we going next? moving around is so much fun! let’s do more! movemovemovemove!

i’m torn. on the one hand, i think a sense of fun and adventure is a good one to have. i’d like to instill it into my offspring, when the time comes for that step. (and by the way, you wanna know what’s REALLY not good for a little kid? moving around all the damn time.) i like to go and do and see and experience. but i am also a mere 12 days away from 31. it’s time to really set down roots and get into the business of my thirties – getting my family together, in whatever form that takes, and enjoying being established as grown. that’s not the kind of life you can lead while still being free enough to just get in the car and take off every weekend for various and far-flung adventures. (especially now that a tank of gas in my car costs $50 instead of $10.)

growing up brings challenges. and as 30 becomes 31, and as my life with my forever-love settles into the comfortable and the secure, i duel with myself. the more i want family, stability and calm, the more i also want to chuck it all and hang out on the beach for the rest of time, drinking margaritas and not thinking so much about everything. sigh.

maybe the secret is somewhere in between – a day job in new orleans, a condo on the beach – that i just haven’t found yet. but it’s coming. and we’ll get there, one way or another. until then, time to ramble on. anyone up for a day trip?