Whatever happened to adventures?

Attention: It is the last Monday in July. That means there's about a month left of summer. A month left to have an awesome summer adventure. One month left to make this summer one to tell your grandchildren about (unless you've already accomplished that, then kudos to you!)

I, unfortunately, have not accomplished that yet. Sure, my summer has been interesting in many ways, but I haven't gone on any of these adventures I crave. Today I realized I have a month left. Which honestly, is plenty of time. Anything can happen within one month.

I have such a wanderlust itch that I can't get rid of and sometimes I wish I could just toss all my responsibilities out the window and just get in my car and drive, drive, drive until I don't even know where I am anymore. But, I can't. I have responsibilities. My friends have responsibilities. Long gone are the days of spontaneous adventures. But why does it have to be that way?!

Why is it that as we grow older we lose that sense of adventure? The spontaneity of life. The "f* it let's do it" attitude. I look around and all my friends seem to be growing up and I'm still back here flailing my arms around, not wanting to let go of my inner child. I feel like Rose at the end of Titanic when she's on that door and Jack's already dead (you could have fit both of you on that door, bitch) and the boat comes to look for survivors and she's weakly saying "come back, come back" but they can't hear her. That's actually really depressing imagery but I think you get the point.

Being a twenty-something is a weird time. I'm sure it only gets weirder from here on out. I know it's time for me to let go of certain things and move on to the next big adventure in my life. I look around the other twenty-somethings I know, and they're either already doing that, or stuck and feeling bored, but already settling with what they've got. Dude. Don't settle. Never settle. Always go after your passions, what you truly want. Now is the time to do it after all. Have that one last big adventure. One last hurrah.

And thus, I should be taking my own advice. Until now I've felt like I'm waiting for something. I never realized I was actually just waiting for myself. Waiting to let go of fears, or just embrace them, and get out there. Have an adventure. One that might completely and totally fail and blow up in my face, but hey, at least I can say I gave it a shot, right?

When I look back on my life and contemplate what to tell my grandchildren, I'm going to tell them that this summer was the one before everything changed. This was the summer I let my "childhood" go and prepared myself to set out onto the next adventure in my life.

In the meantime, I have one month left to make some long-lasting memories.