Today is 6/9. That is all.

I wouldn't call myself a particularly risky person. No, it's more like, I do something dumb without thinking about it and later I think, "wow, that could have ended really badly." Like the time(s) in Chicago when Mary and I walked to Lake Michigan at 4 AM and sat at the edge of the dark water, our feet dangling over the water, flip-flops hanging precariously off of our feet, a bag of beer that we bought on the way sitting between us. We'd watch the sunrise and I once stumbled upon a couple in the midst of a sexual encounter, because the noises they were making sounded like frogs and HEY I wanted to see some frogs. How neither of us ever fell in the lake or ended up being murdered is a mystery to me.

I don't think those times count because I wasn't willingly being reckless, it just happened on account of all the stupidity and the beer. The most willingly reckless thing I've done is put my heart up for sale on these here internets. I'm actually pretty reckless with my affections, handing them out all wily nily, and my affection, once given, is very, very difficult to get rid of. It's possible, of course, but you really have to be a dick about it. In any case, I suppose if I hadn't been so reckless with my heart, I never would have joined Match all those years ago and I wouldn't currently be spending my evenings doubled over with laughter with Joe, which is ALSO reckless because one of these days, one of us is going to actually STOP BREATHING and I hear that's, like, not good for you and stuff.

Also, one time my friends and I jumped the fence to other-friend's pool to go night-swimming after all-day-drinking. That wasn't just reckless because I almost drowned but also because if other-friend found out that we had snuck into the pool, after she told NOT to many, many times, she would have LITERALLY killed us.