I was on the phone the other day with one of our reps. He is quite the chatter but I don't mind because the stories he tells me are ones I find fascinating. This time he was telling me that he has a hippy friend and I was entranced by the stories that followed. Unfortunately in order to be a hippy you have to have a rich relative supporting you, which he confirmed, his friend in 65 and still gets weekly checks from his mother. So I suppose I will never be one.
I hung up the phone and my mind went back to last week when I felt maligned because I was described as whimsical and unpredictable. I realized I am and I love it. I love living as close to a nomadic life as I can. Hippy is the wrong word for me because I like to shower, I don't have strong feelings about war, and I don't do drugs etc. Maybe a gypsy. I love to pick up and go at a moments notice. I love to head off to nowhere in particular and discover and explore a few nowheres as I find them. I love to have no plan. I love to change plans mid plans. I love the unexpected. I love to move to new places and find a new home. I love to try new foods, and meet new people, and experience new cultures. I crave adventure.
That is just me. I may be here one hour and on my way to Vegas the next. I buy tickets to faraway places at a moments notice with no money left in my account. I love to sign up for crazy classes like Thai cooking, or oil painting, or Macrame. I love midnight runs to Del Taco, and 5 star dining at it's finest. That is just me. Friendship with me means adventure. It means laughter. It means frequently wondering what the? It means barefoot hiking, it means good food. it means rolling your eyes, it means praying I am safe, it means wishing I had health insurance.
Is my goal to have a home and family someday? Yes! Would I love to settle down in some adorable small town somewhere? Yes! Have a tire swing in the front yard? Sure. Am I excited to be tied down by a bunch of kids with runny noses? Yes Please! Do I want a minivan with melted crayons on the back seat and stale french fries in the cup holders. ABSOLUTLY. And when the time comes I expect that these qualities will not hinder my ability to be a good wife and mother but enhance them.
In a lot of ways, being a gypsy is a lot like being a mom. You expect the unexpected, you entertain your kids all day long, you sing and dance, wear funny clothes, run around bare foot, do magic tricks? All of those things and more. Haha! Love this post Annie. You are so funny.
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