I’ve realized I use that phrase a lot. Way more than I should. It’s great for the beginning of road trips or getting my students to do their own thing in class, but I mostly use it as a conversation segue because I’m just way too lazy. Still, “ready, set, go” is what you normally say at the beginning of an adventure. Which is what makes my overuse of it so completely inappropriate.
I am NOT adventurous. I am the most boring homebody you will EVER meet. I have probably taken about a bazillion online personality tests (yeah, I might be that narcissistic) and they all come out saying the same thing: my levels of adventurousness are completely nonexistent. I’m about as cautious as a cow on a flat rock.
Side note: I don’t know why a flat rock makes a cow cautions. I’m going to attribute that little colloquial gem to my incredibly rural East Texas upbringing.
So, I’m kinda boring. In fact, one of my best friends in college once told me that, if I was a dessert, I’d be vanilla ice cream. That’s right: plain, old nilla. Gee. Thanks. Here’s the thing about vanilla ice cream, though: it’s pretty basic on its own, but it’s FREAKING AMAZING when you pair it with other desserts.
Enter Coco, my hunka-hunka burnin’ love husband. If Coco were a dessert, I like to think that he would be that perfect slice of chocolate layer cake. Smooth and rich, seductively decadent, and everybody’s favorite. (Just go with the hyperbole. We are, after all, newlyweds.) And let’s face it, chocolate cake a la mode – that’s a combination for the ages.
Now, don’t get the idea that I married some kid of adrenaline junky, I just got lucky enough to marry a guy who isn’t really into the routine. I’ve realized that he has probably done more than anyone else in my life to pull me out of my shell. In the almost three years that we have been together I have made more new friends, traveled so much more, and tried more new things than I ever did during those mostly single post-grad school years.
So, I’ve decided to embrace the adventure. Even though when he wakes me up this Saturday to go to the Farmer’s Market, all I’ll really want to embrace is my pillow.
When you think about it though, that’s what adventures are really: trying something new despite being outside your comfort zone, maybe being a little disoriented, with no clue about what’s really going on. And after all, isn’t that life? The grandest, most inspiring adventure of them all?
(What, too on the nose? Just deal, haters.)