Time Capsule

In 2007 my most marvelous mother printed out the Myspace page I had made to show myself to the world, the page I chose to represent who I was at the time and the things I cared about. SHe put it in an envelope marked "do not read until 2010." Well its 2012 and it just happened to reappear in her office. Sentiments have changed little, though I can't deny that I have changed a lot. This is what I wrote "About Me" unedited.

What I need is a beatdown. You know, to come up gasping a little. To get disoriented. I need to feel my heart race as I push myself over the lip into a backless pit. To feel scared and giddy at the same time. T0 be anxious about getting tossed around under water. I need that unchecked power that comes with being a winter masochist in neoprene. I need all that. My lungs are bored with freeway driving and TV shows. They've been sedated by late nights and leisure. They long to be stretched to the point of popping. They need water like they need air, but the winter has hardly delivered. No rain, few waves and no near drownings. Just bright unadulterated serenity and beauty. It's been neighbors smiling and asking, "God, how beautiful has it been?" while I scowl and beg for a thunderclap. Looking for anything to wake the sleeping Northern Pacific. Any whisper of a storm. Because when the stillness ceases and mother nature roars back from her coma with unrelenting rain and wind I'll find my comfort zone. I'll trot down to greet her with butterflies and a thick leash. Only then, when all the dog walkers, jogging girls and potato chip riding pussies run for shelter, will I get my beat down. And when I do there won't be anywhere I'd rather be.