I Did What for Love Now?

I was having a conversation with a friend this afternoon when the topic of "young and dumb" came up.

I believe my exact words were, "I used to drive from south of Parker to Boulder 3-4 times a week for a boy. I was young and dumb. And by young, I mean 36."

That got me to thinking...

What exactly is the dumbest thing I have ever done for love?

Because, you know? I've done some really dumb stuff. And by dumb? I mean horribly embarrassing...and some self-destructive...and some possibly bordering on illegal. *laughing*

Oddly, I had a hard time narrowing it down. Until I remembered (how quickly we try to forget) the California incident. Not only was this dumb, but it was terrifying for my mother, his mother...me. I am mortified by it and yet, some parts of this little adventure contain some of my most favorite memories.

So here's the situation: I had my own apartment, a job, a roommate (who I'd learned to despise), and was attending beauty school...a skill set for which I'd quickly discovered I was not cut out. My boyfriend lived 40 miles away.

I was 19. He was 17.

In the middle of one cold, February night, he and I, heat of the most passionate moment, decided to take off and go to California, Humboldt County. Yay.

Problem: He was 17. (This is the bordering on illegal part...a little something about transporting minors over state lines.)

He'd done this before so it wasn't any surprise to his mother. I mean, she was furious and so was my mom and I'm sure they were both scared to death...for awhile. But VC knew precisely where we were going and called ahead. Just after she called the Sheriff. *sigh*

Oh my! Did we ever have some adventures along the way. Adventures which, I'm sure you can understand, do not need to see the blogging light of day. But mostly what I remember is feeling scared, stupid, panicky, and physically ill.

I didn't sleep for the 3 days we were on the road. I don't remember the last couple of hours driving on the 101 before pulling into Arcata. I don't remember crashing into sleep on the living room floor. But I do remember waking up the next morning to two things:

A) The deputy sheriff standing over the two of us, nudging us awake with his boot, and telling us we were in big Big BIG trouble...especially with our mothers.

B) His father coming back to the house after having taken my road weary car to the car wash...and wrecking it.

There is, of course, more to the story. How we came back from California by way of Illinois and Indiana. How my sister-in-law, who we visited with before heading home, slept with her pocketbook under her pillow while we were there. How, upon returning home, we were strong armed into attending church - First Baptist Church - every Sunday. But I think you get the gist.

So. There you have it. The dumbest thing I ever did for love.

Will you tell me yours? Comment anonymously if you'd like. I can't tell who you are and wouldn't if I could. But I would love to know I'm not alone in my love-driven abandon of all senses.

Please?