Yesterday, CNN Living re-published an article from Oprah.com about dreams that you should never give up on. I’m quite the dreamer, and have an ever-expanding list that I feel guilty moving away from. Like the dream of producing a Broadway play? Pretty sure my copywriter funds are never going to be able to make that one happen. And learning a second language isn’t going to be happening anytime soon, I could barely handle it in high school and college.
So how do you know what dreams to hold on tightly to and when to let the wind carry them away?
Leigh Newman proposed a list of 9 dreams that you should never give up on. That you should continue to strive and achieve at some capacity. My personal favorite one was “5. The dream of the amazing, life-changing trip you don’t have time for.”
I’ve always been in awe of traveling, no matter where it was, just seeing a new setting and surrounding myself with complete strangers was always a thrill. And why many of my dreams involve travel. From seeing the sculpture in Dublin with my two eyes and standing underneath the Eiffel Tower with my mom to doing AIDS community work in South Africa and attending a Euro music festival that lasts three-days and requires me to camp.
But after seeing this Dream Never to Give Up On #5, I found myself reverting back to the idea of standing on every continent. To feel like I’ve touched all parts of the world and left an impact, even if it was with my feet.
So continent-exploring is back on the table. Maybe I should just turn all of my dreams into a “Around-the-World” trip to knock out more than a few birds with one stone.
Are there any dreams you find yourself holding on to?
It’s no secret that I love volunteering. And I especially love volunteer events where I have a high potential of meeting a boy. Or ones that reap serious benefits, like partying with Edward Burns. Or ones that pertain to things I enjoy immensely.
Alas, the mega one has landed. And next year, after seeing the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 in the Summer, visiting the theme park in Florida, I will head to NYC for the International Quidditch World Cup to volunteer.
Yea, you read that right. There’s an International Quidditch World Cup. And it’s in NYC. Which means that I could potentially catch the real Harry Potter in his Broadway show when I’m there.
I just became infinitely more excited for 2011. Despite the fact I’ll turn 26 (woof).
This past weekend brought the joyous occasion of the Chicago Marathon. And with it, our building was practically cut off from civilization as the race runs right on the street we cross every day to reach humanity and civilization from the 7 a.m. hour to the 4:30 p.m. hour. While this wouldn’t have been a problem, I had to head down the Film Fest in the city. Buses were out of the question, so I had to walk to the train crossing the Marathon path twice.
The first crossing wasn’t so bad. I made friends with some girls who worked at Duffy’s that needed to cross the street to make it to work. We waited for the gap and gingerly Froggered our way over the other side of Sheridan. I anticipated a lot worse, but we made it to the other side unscathed and more importantly, without disrupting a racer. It is also at this time it dawns on me that I have to cross again at Clark, where the people cattle will be a lot thicker and unruly.
I search frantically for another member of the crowd who needs to cross. Success. Amy needed to cross to get to Jamba Juice (the things we do for that deliciousness). So we walked down to Broadway/Surf to cross, thinking we have a lot of space that isn’t barricaded. We start running diagonal and miss the barricade opening. We turn around to see the mass running straight at us. It was like we were Simba, frantically searching for Mufasa to come and rescue us.
With nothing else to do, we started the unthinkable. RUNNING.
And we thought okay, we’ll just run until there’s another opening in the barricades. But there wasn’t one until we reached Wrightwood. Now granted, the distance is not all that far. But when you’re carrying a bag, wearing jeans and actually running in a marathon, you want this running jaunt to end immediately. People are cheering, “Go runners!” and “Yay runners.” While Amy, dressed in workout gear, and I, dressed in jeans and Film Fest shirt, come lollygagging down the path. At least it was free advertising for the Fest right?
Finally we found an opening and laughed our way, while fighting the massive crowd, back to Diversey. Quite the way to spend the 9 o’clock hour on a Sunday. And props to the rest of the runners who finished the other 99.5% of the race that I didn’t.