A life? Check...

You may have started to realize that a good part of my day...you know...from the moment I enter the office to the moment I leave...is spent listening to NPR.  Not because I expect to gain some sort of world knowledge and hemp tote bag, but because I can't think of anything else to listen to on the computer and I find myself crying if I stick to my mp3 player.  So, today was no different.  I did find myself listening to an interview with the 69 year old Nora Ephron with tears in my eyes.
She was saying how she used to sit around with her friends and play a game where they made up what their last meal would be if they had to choose.  Then she followed it up by saying that one of the friends had died of throat cancer and disappointedly mentioned that she was unable to even eat her last meal.  She went on to say that the rest of them had become determined to eat whatever they wanted as many times as they wanted it because the very same thing could happen to them.
Now...this is going to sound remarkably trite...but I have come to realize that this is the very thing that I am trying to move my life into.  Clearly, not the eating whatever thing, I'd be the size of Montana...and I hear six meals of Creme Brulee would not make the healthiest of days.  I spend most of my days searching for jobs in the area I want to move to, and I apply for them non-stop.  I never really wanted a big house, money, and all the fanciness that American society is known for idealizing.  Being raised by hippies, my priorities have been molded differently.  I want to share my talents with people who can get the most out of them, I want to have a tiny place that's just big enough for what I need, I want a place to grow flowers and herbs, and I want friendship and love.
I have heard the benefits of having a good retirement plan, and while I can see the merit in it, I can also see that there's a good chance I will be single for the rest of my days.  At this point, I'd move to a remote, rural area of Ireland and be an elderly barmaid with lots of stories.  My goals aren't lofty, really.  I don't want to get to be an old, crumpled up lady with no life left in me and say, "Oh, but look at the nice retirement fund I have to curl up with!"  I want to have somebody I've been dragging around with me for ages to look at and say, "Hey...remember that time we got thrown out of Kenya?  What was up with that?"  At this point, we'd both collapse into fits of laughter, throwing out random bits of the story.
I don't think I've obtained that sort of life yet, but I've got some good stories to tell, and some good people who throw out random story bits.  A few lines I've had tossed out have been: "Remember that night you climbed the elephant fountain in a wrap around skirt?  Was that the same night you won the hot sauce drinking contest?"  "Remember when you jumped the railroad tracks in the Monte Carlo?"  "Hey...do you remember when what's-his-name got drunk on champagne and crawled around with a broom handle, trying to shoot at us, because he thought he was back in Korea?"
Yeah....that'll do for now.