YOLO

"YOLO is the battle cry of drunk girls at bars just before they surrender their bodies to guys they don't actually like."

Apparently this is what I said in response to my friend as she cried "YOLO!" just before jumping into a cold lake.

The things I say.

This isn't the only time this friend has informed me of either witty, cutting, or stupid remarks I have uttered in the past.

"I SAID that?! Nuh-uh. Wow. I'm amazing."

It's usually fun being reminded of these things I say except when they are stupid. It is simultaneously disconcerting because I like to think I remember everything I say.

This is a perfect example of how memories are emotional. My remarks are remembered because they had an emotional or possibly stunning effect on my friend, just as I remember things she says that strike my emotional chords.

It's scary that we don't remember the same things - that I can have no emotional connection at all to my words but she will remember them for years.

You only live once.

That's why I dance wildly to good music in my car. Great acoustics, volume as loud as I want, and plenty of traffic lights as opportunities to rock out.

I'm reminded of a morning back when my sister and I still attended high school. Mom was waiting in the carpool line with us and observed the two kids driving in front of us whipping their heads around to some hardcore song we couldn't hear.

"Wow, look at them," she remarked, as if this behavior was something unusual.

And my sister replied, "Well, that's what a lot of high schoolers do to wake up and get through tough and depressing mornings," which is valid because high school is hell and music can be heaven.

Sister and I commonly rode with our neighbors who had excellent hipster taste in music and expanded our music horizons beyond the Evangelical realm. We often bobbed our heads in the car on our way to school just like the people in front of us.

But not in the mom van. Mom likes to ride in silence with her thoughts, or lately, alone with an audio book.

The mom story is an example of someone seeing this behavior and not being inspired to grasp life by the horns, be silly and wild, enjoy music to the fullest, and take every possible opportunity to be joyful.

That's part of why I dance in my car - I want people to see me and laugh, and then think, "that looks like fun," and, "why haven't I been doing that all my life," and "why shouldn't I start now?" I want to add joy to the world and show them that it's okay to act nutty because I'm doing it and I'm not causing any car accidents.

Thing is, I don't think it's catching on. Occasionally I look at the faces of other drivers while sitting at lights and such, and I'm pretty sure all of their mothers just died AND they're snacking on lemon wedges and pineapple pieces and experiencing an allergic reaction to both.

It's ridiculous.

I've only ever talked to one other person who claims to dance wildly in his car.  This was a man on an online dating site who was probably just trying to say whatever he thought I wanted him to to get me to like him, so that doesn't count.

You may only live once, but ugh. Please don't use that as an excuse to date online.

Side note: I have two coworkers who have built very strong relationships with significant others they met online.  Good for them.

So anyway, you heartless people - get a life and be cheerful about something! You only freaking live once! Use your driving time to be grateful for stuff, talk to God, listen to good music, and dance (if that's your thing). The fewer lemon faces out there on the roads, the better.