I’m sure you know what I mean when I talk about things that you want to achieve in your life. There are different levels. Things I want to do this year, things I want to do in my lifetime, etc. Not things you need to do, but things that make your heart ache you want them so badly. I was thinking about this last night. I’ve come up with three desires in three different categories.
Ability to Dance
The sooner the better
Last weekend we had our annual formal work soiree and like all other events I’ve attended with Jeremy I feel guilty once the dancing starts. You just know he wants to get up there. He’s wriggling in his seat to the music and, bless him, he tries every single time to get me to dance by standing and extending an arm very gallantly. I just can’t make myself get up there. It’s been so long that I feel extremely awkward. I literally yearn to be up there, cutting loose. I remember university and how you couldn’t pull me off the dance floor. No I wasn’t any better then, just in practice and more confident. And drunker. But anyway I think dance lessons would help me out. It wouldn’t just be learning actual steps, but doing it on a regular basis that would boost my confidence and get me out of the floor. This I want to do by next year’s party. Jeremy has already agreed.
Having something I wrote published
Now we all know that I’ve called myself a writer since I was in grade 2. That was my first taste of creative writing and I’ve never loved anything like I love pen on paper. Typing is growing on me. A few years ago this goal would have been more specific – Have a novel published. But as I exercise my creative brain on a daily basis (sometimes with good results, sometimes not), I realize that I really just love writing shit down. I’m much more eloquent with the written word than I am verbally. Sometimes I hear the most awful English coming out of my mouth. Like boughten. True story. Anyway I’d just like some sort of proof that I’m good at it, and I’m right in feeling like it is an integral part of me. What better way than to get something published? Otherwise I fear I’ll be someone who ‘used to write poetry in high school’. No rush, hence the ‘before death’ category. I don’t need fame or fortune, just a copy of a published work that I can pull out at bus stops and parties to show strangers. That’s all.
Go into space/check out another planet
Probably never going to happen
For as long as I can remember I have spent several minutes of my day gazing at the stars and just wishing. Well not so much now as I can’t really see them here in the city but whenever I can, I gaze longingly. I can still see the moon and that totally works too. If you ever are drinking with me and we‘re outdoors with a good view of the sky, get ready for a moving 20-minute spiel on a poor girls thwarted love affair with space. Blame Arthur C. Clarke and Star Trek TNG I guess. Anyway I know that unless they really do start letting people buy their way into space, and I get a ker-chillion dollars, this ain’t happening. But it still makes me ache and a girl can dream can’t she?
Feel free to share your own aching desires; I do so love to hear about you people.
For no reason here is a pic of me all dolled up from the work party I mentioned, and the flowers that Jeremy sent me at work. I would like to thank all the people who work with him that told him he had to send flowers, especially after I mentioned that I would be accepting flowers for other people all day and they are never for me. I ended up getting the BIGGEST bouquet of the day. Thank you.