spontaneity.

I've been known to do things on a whim. Drive across the state in the middle of the night, buy $225 concert tickets at work, get drunk at 7 a.m., run across a parking lot stark naked in March, jump off a bridge in the dark ...

My latest bout of spontaneity involved a text message from a dear friend in the middle of the afternoon. She said she's be in Philadelphia for an Americorps thing that night. I had plans but altered the course. Philadelphia is a lot closer to Scranton than Pittsburgh, and I hadn't seen Emmy since the morning I left Indiana, Pennsylvania.

I did my thing, trucked it the two hours down the turnpike and got there at 10 p.m. We went out, drank Pabst and gin and tonics, did a shot of Old Crow of old time sake and saw a shitty band at a random bar on South Street. On the walk back to the hotel, we saw a guy get the shit beat out of him on the hood of a car. I stole tea and cheese from Wawa, and we went back to the hotel where I got teary looking at pictures on her camera of people I miss so much.

Don't think of me as so reckless. I've also been known to play it safe. More often than not, I don't, I just do. And more often than not it's not doing that leaves me with regret. Reflecting on the afterglow of this leaves me with one conclusion: I simply did it because I know she'd do the same for me. And to know that is true is more warmth and grace than I could ever ask for.

I drove back the next day and called the rest of my best friends and expressed my love for each of them. They expressed the same back. To love and to be loved. To quote the ever dramatic Bright Eyes, let's just hope that is enough.