It Begins, As All Things Do With Failure.

This blog is an experiment. A year long experiment. Basically, I'm going to ride my bicycle and write about it.
 
I have decided to get rid of my car. Her name was Isabel, and we'd been together since high school. She was a 1996 Jeep Cherokee Sport. She was white with red strips accenting the fact that she was sporty. I sold Isabel to a friend for $1.00. She had stopped starting, out of nowhere in early December she just stopped. My friend is handier with cars than I am, and he was and remains sure that there is some profit to be had in her repair.

This experiment was going to be easier. I had intended on living in Chicago. I was going to move there to pursue comedic activities. I may yet. I didn't move this winter for several reasons. Chiefly, I ran out of money. I hadn't saved up enough to weather the amount of time it takes to find an apartment and a job in Chicago. Which seems to be at least more than two months of mostly earnest searching. I liked the people I met in that town I made some really good friends, but I didn't like how many people there were. I get claustrophobic in crowds, my heart starts beating too quickly and I start breathing all wrong, and suddenly I'm sweating and my hands are clammy and... It's strange I know. I'm a big person, a big personality, I perform on stage in front of people a couple of times a week. I don't mind being on stage at all. I just don't like crowds. I feel lost, and I don't know which way to turn, and I don't want to hurt anybody, even though I'm standing still. That is how I feel in crowds.  

So I moved back. Here I am in Des Moines. I've been back for a couple of weeks. I've been living in my parents' basement, and I'm fighting a battle. I want to live in this town, and create fun things with my friends in this town, but I don't want to live here like I have been. I don't want to work in a cubicle. I don't want to commute in a car. I want to be outside and be excited.

I don't think my Mother will understand. She's a really impressive person. She started working as a bank teller sometime shortly after I was born. Now she's in upper management with a Fortune 500 company. She and my Step-Dad work like most people go to church. They firmly believe in the value of being in an office, in the value of stability.

I do to, to a certain extent. It is so comfortable being in an office, three low walls around you, metal desk drawers that every entry-level employee locks at five-thirty, even though there is nothing in them except some envelopes that will never get used, a highlighter and maybe a binder they got in training. The benefits, the health insurance, the stable income, all of these things are desirable.

But right now, not for me. I may come back to those things, maybe sooner than I'd like. Right now though, I am twenty-seven and I haven't been ambitious or adventurous. I keep making safe decisions in my life and I'm tired of it. If there's an idea that our society has sold me, it is that life is supposed to be an adventure. I sure as hell don't feel like I'm on an adventure in a cubicle. This experiment is going to be about more than just not having a car. It is about finding adventure and excitement in my life.