"Do you know anything about the firecrackers going off a few nights ago?"

I had a lot of really exciting things planned recently. In April, as I do every year, I went to Coachella, which is something I look forward to basically all year, from the day that Coachella ends until the day it starts the following year. In fact, this year, I enjoyed it so much I went twice!

As if that wasn't enough, I went to Vegas the first weekend of May, for a friend's "Bachelorette 2.0" -- she's been married almost two years, but we decided just to theme the event for her anyway and buy a bunch of things shaped like penises. These weeks were a whirlwind for me of realizing I'm not that old yet, and I still have a lot of really poor choices pent up inside of me that I don't want to go to waste. Something has happened in the last few months, possibly since January, that has made me pretty manic all of the time. I'm crawling out of my skin trying to mainline new experiences, and having those big trips coming up right next to each other had me peaking with anticipation.

Those weekends were amazing. I can count the last five weeks as among the best of my life, post-traumatic immune response and all. But now that they are over, the mania hasn't died down. I'm vibrating at an impossible frequency, trying to stir up new crazy nights. Have you seen Crank? The movie where Jason Statham (basically playing himself, as one does) has to keep his heart rate up or he'll die, so he does insane shit like get into high speed car chases and have public sex? I'm not saying I'm getting into high speed car chases and having public sex, but I feel like I need to keep moving at a high velocity of insanity or else I'll crash and start feeling shitty again like I did nine months ago.

But this isn't supposed to be a sad post, and it's not, even if you're worried about my mental health (don't be, I'm being overdramatic for humorous effect, it's a literary device, LOOK IT UP) so let me just tell you about the event that spawned the title of this post, which was last weekend. As I've been saying frequently of late, at the top of my list of things to do when drunk are:

1. Dance like a moron
2. Go swimming/Jump in a body of water

I should also add somewhere in the top ten "set off fireworks" because this is now something that has happened several times in a state of intoxication. On Saturday, I went with my roommate to see Marina and the Diamonds. It was a fun albeit teenybopper-ass show, which I wasn't quite expecting, but afterward I had the hankering to hang out with some people of my own kind, by which I mean those of legal drinking age. I ended up dragging my very patient roommate to two separate bars, one by the concert and the other one closer to home, and when I finally made it back home I still felt that I hadn't had enough excitement. I found these mortar-style fireworks (read: not remotely legal in the state of CA and that video is why) and felt compelled to go down the street and light them off. Everything went well and there were no mishaps, but though I felt I was very sly and it would have been impossible to identify me as the perpetrator, it was about 4 in the morning and the loud noises woke up my building manager, who then heard the sound of my apartment door banging shut after a rather incriminating interval of time. She wasn't mad, but I definitely got called out. And what was I going to say? I owned up to my poor drunken decision making, but frankly it's not something I'm never likely to do again. Learning my lesson may have to come with another few years of maturity that I haven't acquired yet.