{"id":1536,"date":"2012-07-28T12:04:29","date_gmt":"2012-07-28T20:04:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.wordpress.com\/?p=1536"},"modified":"2012-07-28T12:04:29","modified_gmt":"2012-07-28T20:04:29","slug":"6-a-past-juicy-enough-that-youre-looking-forward-to-retelling-it-in-your-old-age","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/?p=1536","title":{"rendered":"#6) A Past Juicy Enough that You\u2019re Looking Forward to Retelling It In Your Old Age"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0I\u2019m tempted to just say \u201cyes\u201d and leave this one at that, because this one is going to look like gloating \u2013 but it isn\u2019t meant that way. But the truth is to have a \u2018juicy\u2019 past doesn\u2019t mean that you have to have a scandalous one. I don\u2019t have a single notable scandal in my past. It\u2019s true, I\u2019ve dated individuals older and younger than me, I\u2019ve had a few unconventional relationships and my belief system may run contrary to the mainstream \u2013 but none of that is \u2018scandalous\u2019, unless I were a nun, and I\u2019ve never made any claims on being that.<\/p>\n

But if we\u2019re talking \u2018juicy\u2019…as in the kind of juicy you want to retell to your kids and grandkids until they get sick of hearing about it and beg you to make up new stories. Yes…that I have, in abundance.<\/p>\n

Brace yourself, this one is going to be long…<\/p>\n

I was never truly afraid of living. My parents are both in the arts, and I\u2019ve often said that I have one tenth of the coolness factor they do. Were it not for them being my role models, I\u2019m not really certain that I wouldn\u2019t have become an old lady with ten cats. Instead, I grew up hearing how my mother had flown a double inside out loop at sunset, how my dad had played blue-smoke bars with his father when he was younger than I am now and I walked the line of the yellow caution tape keeping out intruders while my parents set up the mortars and racks for the hand-fired high level Canada Day fireworks show (my mother was one of the only working female pyrotechnics in Canada \u2013 we were blowing up stuff for a living long before TV made it cool!).<\/p>\n

From those beginnings? Did I really have a choice? At 18 I walked across the stage and out of high school and into a 6 month full time theatre contract with my local museum, at the same time that I was working an am-dram show and balancing full time dance classes. I fell in love. I fell out of love. I put myself through two degrees at university. I flew to England alone, tended bar to put myself through college \u2013 teaching myself how to pull a decent pint (and if you\u2019re working in Britain there is<\/em> an art to it), while fending off kind-hearted but annoying advances from the patrons, I learned British slang, I navigated Covent Garden in the rain. I flirted with people on the underground, was very nearly accused of being a pick-pocket ( I most definitely was innocent!) had my picture painted in the most famous square in West End, I bought cheap tickets to west end shows and lived in a garret with a leaky roof. I picnicked at the top of Glastonbury Tor, tossed a penny in Chalice Well and meditated at the centre of Stonehenge. I won a man\u2019s heart with homemade cookies completely by accident (he\u2019s since had to give up dairy, something that I regret because it means I can\u2019t joke about bringing him cookies again someday). I hot-air ballooned over Bath, and landed in a freezing cold field without a gate in the middle of the night as a result. I know how many windows are in Bath Abbey, and I partook of the famous healing waters at the ancient Roman Baths themselves (it tastes like sulphur).<\/p>\n

I saw the giant Christmas tree in Trafalgar Square and listened to the orphans sing carols underneath it. I looked upon the Virgin of the Rocks before they took it away for restoration, not to be seen again for years. I cried when I came back to the gallery to find it missing. I got lost in the National Gallery more than once. I held hands with Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. I screamed myself horse and stomped my feet numb at We Will Rock You<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I heard Big Ben chime the hour, toured the House of Parliament and saw the breathtaking London skyline from the window of the London Eye. I climbed the Lions in Trafalgar Square, ignoring Nelson\u2019s glare from atop his needle. I found out how many people you could fit in a London phone booth (7 if you\u2019re curious).I watched the ravens in the Tower of London and snapped one of the best photographs of Prince Charles completely by accident.<\/p>\n

Then I applied for a job I thought I\u2019d never get just because I figured I had nothing to lose. And I got it.<\/p>\n

Since then, I\u2019ve touched the pyramids, been humbled by the gaze of the sphinx, felt the cool dust-choked dimness of the tombs of the Valley of the Kings, whispered a prayer at the Temple of Luxor, ridden a camel (twice..and nearly fallen off…twice), and stared into the lapis eyes of King Tut\u2019s mask. \u00a0I\u2019ve gone off-roading in the deserts of Dubai, tuk-tuk riding in India (\u201ccar! Person! COW!!\u201d) \u00a0and learned how to fold a sari in under ten minutes. I\u2019ve swum in the Amazon, snorkelled in Pago-Pago and Aruba, and fallen in love in the Tahitian rain.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve looked down on the ruins of the USS Arizona, parasailed over the coast of Mexico, walked the silent streets of the city of the dead in Buenos Ares and paid my respects to Eva Peron. I\u2019ve seen the balcony of the Casa Rosada, been seduced by a tango show in the sweltering heat of a Buenos Aires evening, been judged by the eyes of Christ in Rio. I\u2019ve walked the ruins of Port Arthur Penitentiary in Australia and Devil\u2019s Island in French Guinea and listened to the voices there.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve gone horseback riding in the pouring rain in Australia and zip-lined over the coastline of Alaska and Costa-Rica.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve laid my fingertips against the stones of the treasury at Petra. Watched the sun sparkle off the sea of Galilee, had my picture taken at the house of St Peter, seen Mary\u2019s House at the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth and dipped my fingers in the River Jordan.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve eaten kangaroo, crocodile, rattlesnake, and slurped oysters on the halfshell.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve seen the Haggia Sophia, the Blue Mosque and the Grand Bizarre in Istanbul. I\u2019ve ridden a donkey up the thousands-year old steps of Santorini in Greece. I\u2019ve had lunch in the shadow of the Coliseum in Rome (and very nearly gotten stuck there!), seen the hippodrome, sung under the dome of St Peter\u2019s Basilica (though so quietly no one could hear me), whispered a ritual by the altar of the Pantheon and communed with the spirits of Pompeii. I\u2019ve seen the ruins of the great library at Ephesus in Turkey and the weeping marble of the Parthenon in Greece.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve been to Disneyland California, Paris and Hong Kong.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve felt the serenity of the Buddha\u2019s gaze in Hong Kong and Dule Temple in China. I\u2019ve walked the worn steps of the Great Wall, seen the Leaning Tower of Piza (and figured out how to get there and back on my own.) I\u2019ve sailed on a tall ship past the Sydney Opera House and walked the streets of the Rocks Historical district by night.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve dipped my feet to the ankles in the chill waters of Alaska, watched the salmon running in Ketchikan, and watched the hang-gliders catch the current above the mountains in Juneau. I\u2019ve seen eagles so numerous that they remind you of seagulls for their sheer numbers. I\u2019ve seen a solitary humpback whale breach next to the ship as I made my way to a meeting. I\u2019ve wandered the forest paths in Sitka. I\u2019ve toured at least one historic brothel. I\u2019ve taken the White Pass Railway train up the famous Dead Horse Trail over the BC\/Alaska border.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve lashed down furniture for a gale force 7 storm while wearing a skirt. I\u2019ve helped steer a narrow boat up a canal in a Welsh monsoon. I\u2019ve transited the Atlantic three times and the Pacific twice. I\u2019ve crossed both the Bering and the Tasman sea.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve lain on my back on deck and stared up at the full moon and counted the stars. Both by myself and with a crowd of crazy musicians.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve sung in front of three distinct live bands, made two audition reels, and been judged by at least one west end director. I\u2019ve written a novel, a play (thought that never saw the light of day beyond the acting class I wrote it for), and a travel-log (which you are currently reading).<\/p>\n

They say that life\u2019s a banquet, and most poor sons-of-bitches are starving to death. Me? I sink my teeth into the next course and drain the wine goblet to the dregs.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve never believed that we only go around once…not since I was a tiny child…but that\u2019s not excuse to not live the life you\u2019re in right this moment to the very fullest that you\u2019re capable of. My mother used to tell me that playing it safe was pointless, because you could just as easily get killed by walking out of your house one morning and getting hit by a bus….having never taken a single risk, or had a single adventure…so why not do<\/em> something with your life?<\/p>\n

So…<\/p>\n

I think that all qualifies as \u2018juicy\u2019 enough wouldn\u2019t you?<\/p>\n

And the most amazing thing?<\/p>\n

That might be only about half of it…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0I\u2019m tempted to just say \u201cyes\u201d and leave this one at that, because this one is going to look like gloating \u2013 but it isn\u2019t meant that way. But the truth is to have a \u2018juicy\u2019 past doesn\u2019t mean that … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1536","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-30-things"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p3GtNE-oM","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1536","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1536"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1536\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1536"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1536"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1536"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}