Strange, perhaps, but before last week when I received the following email from a reader asking me that question — What drives you? — I never really thought about it.
“What drives you? Seriously, what drives you to seek out the lifestyle you seek? Weird question maybe, but I’m wondering.
You seem to be moving around a bit and searching for different adventures … Do you have an end point? Or are you just collecting memories and moments and keeping life interesting?”
After I read that my brain farted, like, a baker’s dozen times, mainly because I can’t believe someone actually cares about what I’m doing and why. (My God, have I bamboozled you all?)
But for real, I pretty much wrote back, “I don’t know.” But then, shortly after, the proverbial slime fell from the ceiling. (Come on! A “You Can’t Do That On Television” reference? It’s no wonder I’ve been able to bamboozle you all!) That is, I began to rack the tiny amount of brain matter I possess that’s not simply devoted to finding the perfect bean meal, and really began to wonder: What the hell does drive me?
Boredom? Some unquenchable thirst for adventure? Curiosity about the world? My hatred of office cubicles? My yearning to be the Jesus of Jorts around the world? That aforementioned quest to find the Holy Grail of bean meals? Truly, a million possible reasons started bouncing around the gray matter of my mind.
Weird that while it seems this answer should be obvious, I really don’t know what drives me.
For instance, what made me up and move to Moscow after graduating from college with no job? Just to see if I could do it? Maybe. I’m the type of idiot who tends to dare myself to do things most people are probably too logical to do. You know, like start an obnoxious blog and get fired from her job. Or get a job in a sex shop to do research on some mysterious novel I’m working on. Or hop off to Chile, knowing only three words — frijoles, vino and baños. (Although, let’s be honest, those are probably the three most important words in the any language.)
But there’s more to it than that. After all, if its simple discomfort that drives me, I suppose I could’ve simply stayed in DC and just moved to Georgetown or something. Or, you know, gotten a job. *shudder*
So what the hell? Am I running away to foreign lands because I hate America?
God, no! In fact, contrary to a lot of other Americans who fancy themselves world travelers, I’m not so embarrassed of my own country that I feel compelled to say I’m from Canada. (Sidebar: Ew.) And actually, I like telling people I’m from the States. Not only does it give me a chance to set the record straight that we’re all not just a bunch of douches, but it also gives me a pretty damn good excuse to start a “USA!” chant every now and again. Or, like, every day. Um, or maybe even right now…
(USA! USA! USA!)
But I digress, albeit patriotically. Maybe I’m thinking too much.
“Whaa–?!” you say. “How is that possible?” Don’t worry, I was just as confused as you are about that possibility. However, then I said to the oversized portrait of The Lord hanging ominously over the bed I’m renting from a Chilean family, “Jesus, I think maybe I just like traveling, adventures and learning about cultures radically different from my own.”
And even though Jesus didn’t answer back in my “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Marissa” moment, I think I might have stumbled upon a good chunk of the answer: I’m simply a nosy bitch who prefers Cuba to cubicles.
Or maybe it’s even simpler. Perhaps the main factor driving me to seek out the life I’m now living is my simple ability to ignore questions like “why” in favor of questions like “why not.” (Or actually, in my case, it’s more of a “Why the f*ck not?”)
And as far as reaching an “end point?” I figure I’ll reach one naturally when I die.
Now who wants to hike the Inca Trail?
Or better yet, although not really because hiking the Inca Trail sounds like the sh*t, what drives YOU? Like I said, I’m a nosy bitch.
Marissa Payne 
I am personally offended by the “Ew Canada” remark. Nigel shares my displeasure.
Oh snap! However, clearly, my adoring reference to You Can’t Do That on Television should even out the playing field. Plus, I’m a good American. I’m SUPPOSED to hate Canada, eh? (I actually love you guys!) Tell Nigel I don’t give a HOOT. Yes. I punned it. I’m clearly out of control.
YCDTOTV was the shit….but what you gained with that you lost with the pun!
i am driven by money and sex! by the way this is bernard from ECELA, in case you couldn’t figure it out.
You are such a slut, you hooker!
Driving my enemies down the road and hearing the lamentations of their women…
Great question, random e-mailer of Marissa’s. What drives me..? I’m not even going to pretend I’m as witty or funny as your other readers. I’m actually quite boring and serious these days. I’m going to go with – rampant curiosity about the Universe we live in, particularly this here planet Earth and all the life forms that live here. There’s always more to learn, and the best education has nothing to do with structured classroom, rote routine sh*t. I think it’s all about figuring out what makes me tick, and going after it. Since this is constantly changing, at least to some degree, I never reach an “end goal”. I’ve done that before – reached major life goals – and then I was left with “well crap. Now what?” That wasn’t a fun thing for me. The answer to this question would probably be different tomorrow, by the way.
“I think it’s all about figuring out what makes me tick, and going after it.”
I hear ya. My only advice would be not to overthink it. Just go with the flow and your gut will usually take you to the right places 🙂
Perhaps the main factor driving me to seek out the life I’m now living is my simple ability to ignore questions like “why” in favor of questions like “why not.” (Or actually, in my case, it’s more of a “Why the f*ck not?”)
I really like this. I think it’s the best kind of motivation (er, non-discouragement?) there is — just being able to look at the world as a gigantic map of possibilities, close your eyes and throw a dart.
Yes! It’s our own selves that set limits. Convincing yourself there aren’t any seems impractical, but I think it’s the only way to live. 🙂
I think “tocino, cerveza, y baños”, but tocino con frijoles would be an acceptable compromise.
Am I wrong or is tocino lunch meat? Uh…
Hmm, might be one of those magical words that varies from country to country, but up North here it’s Bacon.
Didn’t George Mallory say he wanted to climb Mt. Everest “because it’s there”? Sounds pretty close to “why the f*ck not?” to me.
I thought that was Hillary Rodham? Didn’t she climb Mt. Pinatubo in 1908?
They are easy to confuse.
But we know what happened to Mallory, don’t we?
Psshah!
“Learning about cultures radically different from my own.”
I’m not really sure eating hotdogs in one of the most wealthy and modern capitol cities in Latin America really counts as a ‘radically different culture.’
I’ll take the benefit of the doubt and assume this is just the first part of the adventure, the part where you learn Spanish in order to really get out into the country and experience some different stuff.
Culture doesn’t necessarily correlate to what consumer goods are available. Chileans are extremely different from Americans in the way they approach life, family and everything that really matters. Not saying their approach is better, but it certainly is different.
But don’t worry, in a few short weeks I’ll be in the sh*t. 🙂
And yes, my stop in Santiago was to gain some language skillz.
Your patriotism and wanderlust seems like the perfect combo for a career in the foreign service. Or the Marines.
Hmm… foreign service, possibly. But marines? I don’t do well with people telling me what to do …
The exam’s easy.
But if you don’t like being told what to do…
I can so totally see you as a Marine, you gun-toting thing you.
Although the gun-toting is attractive… :p
I love it. My motto in Spain was por que no? Why not? I love looking at life as a why not instead of a why
YES. That’s the only way to truly live in my opinion. At least for me.
Have I shared with you that I feel like I’m down here avoiding real life? Well, now I just did, and with the internet too. (Shhh! It’s a secret! ) Then somehow while I was avoiding it, it caught up to me. Weird how that happens. Now, I have responsibilities and all that stuff.
You can run, but you can’t hide. 🙂
Life is always real, and issues will follow you around no matter what physical locale you’re in. Same thing happened to me when I went to Russia back in the day. But still, responsibility, shmresponsibility. Or whatever.
“Shmresponsibility”–you come up with such great words.
Perhaps you could work for the Oxford English Dictionary. Adding great words like “retardulous,” “shmresponsibility” and “jorts.”
Plus, once you’ve learned enough Spanish, you can come up with equivalent words in that language.
Can’t believe no one posted this yet…so, I’ll be the douche that does it…
In Soviet Russia, car drives you!
Wah-waaaaaah!
I think that inorder to live a life of why not, you can’t be a slave to things that are material and labels. You can’t let things and people decide who you should be or what you should be. Also you can’t put a label on yourself. You are who you are. This is why, I think, you had such an adversion to D.C. A town that prides itself on labels.
As far as material things, that’ obvious. In order to obtain them and keep them, there’s always going to be a why. And when you aske why not, the answe is going to be, you need to stay put to pay for all of this.
And to answer your question, life itself drives me.
Once again, you have interesting insights. I think you’re right about being enslaved to things, for sure. It’s like once you have stuff, you have to take care of it. That holds you to certain places a lot of times. Or a certain lifestyle if the object in question isn’t an object at all but a child or something of that sort. I don’t know. I don’t think I have all the answers — or any — but I think I’m doing OK for now. Sounds like you are too!
I am. But I have been living a life of why not since I’ve had cognitive thinking.
that was some kind of a really romantic ode to life. great C:
and “why the f*ck not!” c:
Hmm… I suppose that’s exactly what it was! After all, if you’re not enjoying your life (at least a little), what’s the point? 🙂
Actually, I must revise my answer.
Stuff like this drives me:
http://skippy-posts.blogspot.com/2009/10/term-limit-this-arnold-schwarzenegger.html