There’s something about listening to Bryan Adams Reckless album that puts the butterflies into my belly. In particular the songs “Summer of ’69,” “One Night Love Affair” and “She’s Only Happy When She’s Dancing.” That was the album to get for Christmas in 1984. I was 15 years old.
Was that the Christmas I had chicken pox? No, I think that was the first year R and I went together. Was that the Christmas I got my ghetto blaster? Maybe. It’s quite possible. Was that the Christmas I had a party with my friends in the basement, and we played twister, and wrote and drew pictures on a big mural, and drank too much beer, and ate pizza, and someone puked on the cement floor? Yes, yes, I think it was.
I remember being upstairs in the kitchen, putting something in the garbage can under the sink and just slowly tipping over, slumping to the floor and being unable to stop laughing, just sitting there and laughing with the tears streaming down my face, Mom trying to help me up, but me laughing too hard, and Mom getting angry because I was apparently plastered drunk (though it wasn’t that, I was stoned obviously).
I remember Mom growling R for letting me get that way, and him throwing up his hands, like he ever could’ve stopped me or got me to slow down . . . or got me to do anything, for that matter. That was the first clue that I couldn’t and shouldn’t smoke dope, though I didn’t know it at the time.
Listening to Bryan Adams takes me back to the beginning, when everything was still brand new, being 14 and 15 and experiencing everything for the first time. Every day held some new adventure or excitement. Life was so unpredictable and random. I never knew from one moment to the next where I would be or what would happen. I was the girl who was up for anything . . . once. I blew whichever way the wind blew, changed my mind every second. If you looked up reckless in the dictionary you should find a picture of me. And I stayed that way for a really long time. Though in your 20s, unpredictable random adventures equal drama, and drama grows tiresome in an adult world.
I guess I’m still that girl, but I don’t need those Bryan Adams reckless kinda butterflies anymore. Now, I have new and improved butterflies. I get them in springtime when a new season is born with endless possibility and opportunity. I love this time of year. I get them when I meet new fabulous people that I know will be in my life for a long time and probably forever. I get them when I count my blessings and feel so lucky and grateful for every second of my life, my family, my friends. I still feel like everyday is an adventure, like anything could happen, everything is possible, and situations change in an instant. These are my butterflies now. I’m excited about my life, everyday. And yes, I’m still the girl that can wake-up with one plan and find herself in a completely different place by the end of the day, but when you’re excited about your life and focused on opportunities and being true to yourself, and not mindlessly following every whim, the universe delivers something more uplifting.
Listening To: yellow submarine, the beatles
Hair: ch-ch-chan-changes coming