Settling back into Vancouver life after a trip to the la la land that is Las Vegas turned out to be easier than I anticipated. While wandering the strip day after day in a drunken delirium I grew increasingly worried, anticipating a sense of homelessness that thankfully never hit me. While gulping down cheap beers with old friends I pictured all the homes I've left and returned to within the past five years, and noted to myself that I would not be returning to any of those places when it was time to leave the flashing lights and debauchery. How odd.
When I dig a bit deeper the oddness only grows. I've spent years worrying about being "homeless", and even strangers have remarked about my general "homelessness" as of late. But what is it that makes me homeless? Why can't I have multiple homes? Why, after years of homesickness would I choose to start a life somewhere entirely different? Part of me longs for the stability of a small town, and the rest of me is screaming to embrace as much of the world as possible.
Fuck tradition. All the selfish flailings of excess in the empty bottles and seizure-inducing lights of Vegas made me realize that I don't want to be rigid. I mean, I knew that already, but the whole thing just sort of clarified my confused thoughts. Not that I want to live a life of Vegas-style excess, but why do I have to travel to the middle of the fucking desert to feel free from the constraints of traditional life? My best friend from high school got married there amidst the lavish depravity of red-eyed tourists, and it was an absolutely beautiful, traditional ceremony. I enjoyed the mismatched settings and feelings. The whole thing made me think even harder about growing up and doing grown up things. I sort of got the feeling that everyone else my age who attended the wedding felt as if they were on a schedule.
Don't get me wrong; for those of us who are ready and willing to plunge forward into adulthood, more power to you! I'm jealous in a way, because my mind just can't settle on one idea. I am in love with so many of the traditions associated with being an adult, but at the same time I want to smash each and every one of those traditions into oblivion. Is marriage even relevant anymore? Is home ownership? Is 35 really too old to pop out a kid? Furthermore, is it so wrong to NOT have kids? Or, can I reconcile these opposites to create a life not unlike this trip? Wild, grounded, free, traditional, grown-up, childish, sleazy, beautiful, and above all full of love and laughter.
I'll let you know if I ever figure it out.
Also, let me know if this makes absolutely no sense. I may have killed one too many brain cells over the past week.