Following my Mom's example, I'm joining the McLinky Monday fun over at Real Housewives of Oklahoma. I thought it would be interesting to write up five things I can't do anymore - it didn't seem like a blog subject many 23 year olds would be taking part in.
1. Ride a scooter - I remember my old Razor scooter, Silver. I named him after the big rusty bike "Stuttering Bill" Denborough owned in Stephen King's It, which, of course, was taken from the Lone Ranger's horse. I used to zip all over on Silver, who was a fine replacement from the bike I never did learn to ride (can't even ride a bike now.) I loved Silver - even after the day I took a too steep hill too fast and tried to hit the brake. Over I went, falling off a platform that was, maybe, three inches off the ground. I broke my fall with my hand and got a boxer's fracture. On my left hand. The hand I write with. I kept Silver for a few years after that, but I don't think I rode him nearly as much after that fall.
2. Write as freely - When I was younger, when I wanted to write, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote. Nothing more, nothing less. I just wrote whatever. These days, I analyze things half to death and, more often than not, talk myself out of my ideas or get too critical of my own writing skills. Is the idea good enough? Can I write it? Why should I write it? Can I finish it? Will I finish it? I miss the old freedom.
3. Walk in grass - I know a lot of people are scratching their heads, so let me explain. I remember the last day I could freely walk in the grass barefoot. I was over at the little park in the trailer park we lived in at the time. I and my brothers, boys I've known for nineteen or twenty years and grew up with, spent the entire day running around, rolling down a hill in the grass, everything. It was so much fun. Until the next day. My face was red and swollen, a rash all down my arms and legs. As it turned out, I had been bitten by chiggers and was highly allergic. I had to spend a week out of school and go on steroids for the reaction to pass and the swelling to go down. From that day to this, I only go through grass if I'm wearing shoes, socks, and pants or won't be in it long. I can't even sit in the grass. Yes, it was only one outbreak, but I don't want to go through that again, so I don't risk it.
4. Make birthdays a big deal at school - In elementary school, a birthday that fell during the week was awesome. Even in middle school, birthdays were pretty cool. You got cake or cupcakes and a small party in the middle of the school day. Some of my favorite teachers would even get me small presents that they knew I would like. College? Forget it. Of course, college birthdays mean people get to buy you drinks. That's even better.
5. Goth look - I did the goth look in high school and blew my little town out of the water. I enjoyed it, despite the stupid comments. "Whoa! You're goth? Are you a Satanist?" "Um...I'm wearing a black t-shirt that says 'Fueled by Christ Alone.' Can't you read?" "You're wearing all blue today. Are you a blue goth?" "There's no such thing as a blue goth. My black jeans were all dirty and I happened to grab a blue t-shirt." "You can't be gothic and Christian!" "They're clothes, moron!" Yeah, that was...fun. These days, as a theater major, I've changed my thinking. Now, black clothes are not for daily wear - they're for backstage work. Only. That's why I buy black dye for my jeans, why I prefer black long sleeved shirts with no logos or decals on them. Black clothes mean work.
And there it is. My five things I can no longer do.