Me? A Writer?

My good friend Dave just asked me to be a guest blogger on his new blog.  Dave is a writer.  And I happen to think he is great.  I love reading his work, and I feel honored when he sends me new chapters for books that never happen, or random short stories that he has yet to finish.  But, when he asked me to blog for him I didn't understand.  Why me?  Yes, I have my own blog.  But as my faithful followers, who range as far as my mother, father and godmother, know, I am not even very good at keeping my own blog.  Why would anyone want me as a guest on their own blog?  Save yourselves!  Don't ask me.  But he did.  On facebook chat.  The new blog is called "Reluctant Adult Perspective" and began about a week ago.  I asked him how often I would be expected to write and what he wants from me.  He said: 
"you just need to write something somewhat introspective. 
maybe about being far from family."    


While I was honored that someone whose writing I adore would ask me, I had to ask him why.  His response: 
"you're a writer with an interesting story."  


Wow, a writer.  Me?  Before I had time to digest what I considered to be a huge (and unexpected) compliment, he followed with this: 
"and you refuse to grow up and are stalling your life by living in thailand, or is that wrong? 
sounds like reluctant adult material to me."


Oh, snap.  There it is.  I'm a reluctant adult.  I am stalling my life by living out here.  In so many ways I had convinced myself that I was doing just the opposite.  Have I tricked myself to believe a lie?  Isn't that what pathological liars do?  Aren't they people who begin to think that fictitious events actually occurred?  I believe I am living my life in fifth gear, but am I just stalling out?


Maybe Dave is right.  But since this conversation took place on Wednesday, I haven't stopped thinking about it.  My conclusion: it doesn't matter.  Okay, I'm a reluctant adult because I ran away to Thailand.  I can deal with that label.  But is that any different than my friends still nannying?  Or my friends still content with working at the same restaurant they worked at in high school?  What about the people ski bumming and the people still going to school for something they aren't totally convinced they want to do?  Or my friends with "grown up jobs" openly wishing they could be back in college, partying, living off of their parents and somehow managing decent grades without ever attending class?  We're all reluctant adults.  


The people that pat me on the back for running away to Thailand, only do so because in some way or another, they want to do the same thing.  I can't count how many people have told me, "Gosh, I wish I could do what you are doing."  Or, "I should have done that before my life started happening." "Now's the time," and "you will never regret this."  Of course I have my good days and my bad days, but I won't regret this.  My life is going to start eventually, whether I am ready or not.  For now, I'm content stalling.