I just had my first appointment with a new family doctor and was forced to answer all those lifestyle questions as she took my medical history.
“Do you do drugs?”
“No.”
“Do you smoke?”
“No.”
“Did you ever smoke?”
“No.”
“Do you drink?”
“Socially.”
“How much do you have?”
“A glass of wine.”
The doctor was young and stylish and it occurred to me that she might think me a boring loser. I found myself wanting to lie, to conjure up some sordid past to tell her about so she would find me interesting but I couldn’t think of a single off-colour anecdote.
“Sometimes, I’ll start a second glass of wine.” I said.
She didn’t write it down.
It’s not even like my propensity for fun is inversely proportional to my age. I didn’t have all that much fun when I was younger either. I did everything I was supposed to do and more. I worked really hard at school, was on the student-council every year, participated in the peer-counselor program, volunteered in a palliative care unit of a children’s hospital. These things kept me busy, like Election’s Tracy Flick, except even Tracy Flick was secretly sleeping with her teacher. I had a hard time moving to second base.
“Can you get a sexually transmitted disease from a boy touching you over your bra, but under your shirt?”
“No,” said my former doctor, “for the love of God go ahead.”
I wasn’t so sure.
I didn’t smoke or do drugs in high-school because at the time I thought I eventually wanted to run for office and worried about forestalling my political career with tell-alls from former friends who claimed they saw me inhale. I smoked up in university, here and there, but was never certain I was doing it right. Was I high, now? I never knew.
Looking back, I didn’t have very much fun at all. I feel like I have spent my whole life working away, turning down invitations, coming home early, giving up on travelling and other opportunities, all to prepare for a career that I have now decided not to pursue. I threw every ounce of myself into a four-cornered view of achievement and am left trying now to put myself together enough to withstand the g forces. I should have stayed out later when I was younger, turned the music louder, danced more, drank more, smoked more, taken off my bra. I should have let myself free fall.
I am still inundated with obligations but I find myself itching now for fun. My restless hands are tingling for something exciting to do. And not a going for brunch, walking around farmers markets or art galleries exciting, but a kind of pure, overwhelming joy, a rapturous delight with my circumstance. I want to feel the way I did shopping for toiletries to take to sleepover camp. I think that is the last time I felt really electric. I was twelve.
With this sad realization, I have decided to launch Project Twenties: a mission to live in my thirties all the fun experiences I should have had in my twenties. But where do I begin? My home is semi-detached and I don’t want to disturb my neighbour with loud music. I have asthma, so I don’t think smoking will be very fun. I could go out dancing but I have to be home to let the dog out. And won’t my breasts sag if I don’t wear a bra? I have been looking at renting a place abroad this summer, maybe living in Spain like Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Except, even if Javier Bardem himself propositioned me, with a clean bill of STD health from a certified doctor in hand, I would still turn him down. Isn’t that how episodes of Law and Order start?
Clearly, I have to approach this with a WWWND mentality, “What Would Wendy NOT Do,” and then do that. I need to let my hair down. But I always wear it down; maybe I should start wearing it up? Either way, I am on the look out for new experiences that are totally uncharacteristic and bordering on reckless so I can finally feel the wind through my pinned up hair. I am looking to take risks and amass a sizeable number of regrets. I don’t care if they hurt, if I spend the rest of my life wishing them away. The only remorse I fear, the one that will make it difficult to meet my own eyes in the mirror, is my feeling the need to live my thirties in my forties.
I love this. First, it started out hilarious…and then it shifted to a more serious, introspective mood. I like the fact that you are ready to take a dive into the fun tank. You are right…just when you think “Oh, I can’t do that!” As Nike says, “Damnit, Do It!” Well, that’s not exactly what they say, but drastic times call for drastic measures. Have fun! I want to read all about it.
Thanks so much Annie! Is there such a thing as a fun tank!? That sounds amazing. I am googling it right now and hope you’ll put on your swimsuit (or in June O’s case, birthday suit) and join me!
wow. A great post as usual. We need to talk…and to amass regrets together. For real Wendy I’m a pro at that, and I would love to have your pinned up hair along for the ride.
Hilarious. I love that you’re a regret amassing pro. Lead the way! I’m excited to be in such fantastic company!
This made me laugh out loud more than once. I always LOVE reading your blog, Wendy! And, I’m here to help any time you want to do something stupid. I’m always in my 20’s on the weekend. 🙂
That is so very sweet Debbie. Girls Night Out? You, Me and Abby?
Great post Wendy!! Count me in for mission ‘do something ridiculous’!
So happy you’re in Reena!! Step one is to cut my hair as cool as yours. I haven’t figured out step two yet…
Great post! I think a trip to southeast asia is what you need.
YES! You are so f’n smart. That is exactly what I need. I’m calling you for suggestions!
I just lived on the edge! I commented on your wonderful article! Wow, that was refreshing! i cant wait to try something else next week!
You’re an inspiration to us all! Next up: you’re own blog!
I never figured out if I was high either. I just felt fuzzy.
So, the big question is: How to be spontaneous without thinking about it so much, eh?
Well planned recklessness is welcome too!
I loved this! I had a very similar experience with my doctor recently when I answered that question with “Oh, I drink about 5 to 7 glasses a week”. She answered, “Well, is it 5? or is it 7?” Ok, maybe it’s more like 10.
Can’t wait to read more about Project Twenties. Sounds exciting! Experiences that are ” … bordering on reckless … ” – Riding the TTC for a few days? ~A
Yes! I am going to ride the TTC home tonight and NOT wash my hands. Ah! I have shivers already. Thank you so much. Cheers to you, Astra!
Okay, I’m no help at all. It sounds like I lived your life. Or vice-versa. My idea of kicking back and going for the fun was to go riding WITHOUT a saddle. Oooo! I’ll be watching to see how this turns out. Then I’ll try it!
Riding with or without a saddle sounds exciting to me, Diane. See! You’re way ahead of me!
It’s not the things that you do that you will regret, you will regret those things that you didn’t do. I’ve certainly had my spills, and calamities but I don’t regret doing them for one second. It is truly those things that I still haven’t tried that keep me up at night. It just takes some practice. Start small. Baby steps. You can do it! We’re all here to cheer you on!
So beautifully said. Thank you so much for your sage insight and your wonderful moral support. I am in need of both!
Wendy, this was really a profound essay on regret. You are older than your age as normally you don’t get to regret anything until you are much older. Then you regret everything.
If you were wild, you regret that you weren’t more stable and if you were stable, like you describe yourself, then of course the regret is that there wasn’t more spontaneous action in your life.
Life is misery and then you die. The Budhists have it right.
This meant a lot to me Nathan. It sounds like I have a lot to look forward to, huh? I think you may be right about the Budhists. I love the way Woody Allen puts it at the opening of Annie Hall:
“There’s an old joke- two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of ’em says, ‘Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.’ The other one says, ‘Yeah, I know; and such small portions.’ Well, that’s essentially how I feel about life – full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it’s all over much too quickly.”
Looks like your essay resonated with lots of folks judging by the comments. Wendy, I lived your life in reverse: was wild and irresponsible from adolescence into my fifties and am now a boring monk. As the saying goes, at my age it now takes me all night to do what I used to do all night.
I regret a million things but my former lifestyle is not one of them. I felt alive every day, even on those mornings-after when I felt like death.
Even your comments are beautifully poetic Chris. So whatever you’ve done, in whatever order, it’s worked. I love that you don’t regret your former lifestyle and I can’t think of anything more amazing than feeling alive.
Hi Wendy, I really enjoyed your post. I too, was a “good” girl but now, I really have no regrets. I think the biggest thing for me was moving to NYC from Philadelphia for about a year (I’m back now). I took me soooo far out of my comfort zone, but helped me grow as a person. So I would recommend you do something that takes you out of your comfort zone – then seriously evaluate whether or not it made you happy, fulfilled, etc. Truth be told, you may find out that you really like who you are! Keep on writing!! Thanks for visiting my blog!
Lisa
What beautiful and honest writing, Wendy. Rent the apartment in Spain!