But my biggest guilty pleasure is my sometimes unfortunate propensity to actualize my daydreams without thinking through the consequences. And I'm not talking about simple daydreams like starting a whoopie pie food truck or coming up with the next Harry Potter or Katniss Everdeen. I'm talking about watching that episode of Gilmore Girls before they backpack through Europe and subsequently dragging my bestie off to Ramsey's for backpacks and then onto a plane to start our adventure in London. Or the time a friend told me about witnessing the first snowfall of the year out on the river during a grueling crew practice, and I convinced the girls that this type of beauty is why we should all join crew too. Or how watching Shaun White at the Olympics made me know that I could also master the halfpipe despite the fact that I'd never gone done even the tiniest of bunny slopes, let alone strapped on a snowboard before. Because I'm not gifted with functioning motor-coordination, the daydreams that appeal to me most are the ones that involve me suddenly having the skills needed to go on super-adventures.
Of course, reality never followed the route that my daydreams had mapped. The European adventure was carried out with a duffle bag because I couldn't lift the backpack. And even when the sales associate hoisted it onto my back, I toppled over. (It provided my bestie some much-needed comic relief.) Then I spent most of our trip paralyzed with fear that every room we slept in was haunted by malevolent spirits (the one night I wasn't scared out of my wits, the bestie had a sitting ghost visit). As for the great adventure of joining the crew team, the brutal winter training might have made me the most fit that I've ever been, but I still wasn't strong enough not to groan every time we had to heft the boat over our heads--let alone enough muscle to really pull an oar. And the snowboarding pipedream? After my last trip my legs were covered in so many black and blue bruises that it looked like I had leggings on. But I haven't completely given up hope. I think that time has just taught me that maybe instead of just jumping into a daydream-come-true, it might behoove me to do a little prep work beforehand.
For example, I've had a yearning to wander freely through South America every since the first time I watched The Motorcycle Diaries. And the opportunity did arise when a friend asked if I'd like to backpack through several South American countries for six months with her. While every part of me wanted to buy that plane ticket, something held me back. I told myself that maybe I should think this one through (since I had just made another crazy, spontaneous decision a week ago), and instead avidly read every one of my friend's emails to us documenting her trip, sighing every time I clicked open photos of amazing mountaintop vistas. And now, some years later, I'm finally heading down there! Not for six months, but we're all set for a week-long jaunt down to do the Incan trail at Machu Picchu in a few months. Which I realize is a far, far cry from my original daydream, but I think I may be able to handle this trip better than the one I had intended. But I've consulted all of the friends who've already gone through this particular rite of passage and taken copious notes on both the pros and cons. Like how Day Two of the trail will end up feeling torturous (One highly athletic friend spent a good half hour rehashing how difficult it was to put one foot in front of the other at that point), or how the showers are even more grimy than the hikers are at that point (Pack Wet Wipes! Tons of them!), or how it isn't cheating to hire a porter (Lifesavers!). Trust me, this time I'll be prepared (well, more prepared) when this particular daydream turns out to have a few more thorns than originally suspected.
And then... Morocco... Casablanca...
-I
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