I was thinking at around three this morning that this sentiment is so true. Not to contradict my Point of Life essay, but I think it, alongside the search for a true, intimate friend, is the reason I've done some moves that many would consider just stupid. I took up smoking. I drank and drove (more tipsy than drunk). And pretty soon, I'm going to go to Davis, California and meeting a friend.

I don't want to do something that would harm someone else, or ruin a reputation, or be horrendously offensive to the majority of the population. I'm not one to rock the boat too much. But at the same time, when I'm eighty years old, I want to be able to look back and say that I did something with my life. I did a few wild and crazy things. I did a lot of decent, normal, banal things. I drove to meet a person I'd never met and it ended up being a great night. I knocked out a parking meter and took it home. You know, just really stupid, idiotic, essentially harmless stuff. But I'll have something to tell my kids. Yeah, I remember that night I spent in the UNR parking lot... These are not things to be proud of, but they are momentos that you had a cool life. Helen Tasker would be proud.

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