The No-Plan-Plan


Before I introduce you to the “No Plan-Plan,” it’s important to understand that the No-Plan-Plan is not for everyone. Now, it’s not like Fight Club – adopting the No-Plan-Plan as a way of life does not include a promise to not talk about the No-Plan-Plan, nor does it involve beating the absolute shit out of your best friends unless of course that’s something you want to do.

My blog seems to be taking a break from all things gay, snarky, and Lisa Frank. Depending on who you are reading this right now I’m either sorry, or you’re welcome. Just know that while I’m going through one of those angsty introspective phases typically reserved for teenage girls, I still have the ultimate soft spot for Panda Bears with paintbrushes, and trapper keepers with neon purple dolphins splashed across the front.

The No-Plan-Plan was created in 2012, by a good friend of mine. Over a frothy brew one day we exchanged words and decided that the best plan to live a happy, fulfilling, and meaningful life – was to have absolutely no plan at all.

Meet Bill, creator of the NPP and whom made Coachella possible for me.
Meet Bill, CEO of the No-Plan-Plan.

The first time we actively tried to apply the No-Plan-Plan to an actual life scenario was by taking a vacation together. Months prior, Bill (my friend has a name) had bought two tickets to the music festival Coachella. Contemplating selling them, his last ditch effort was to ask me to go – to which I obviously replied to with a resounding “Fuck, yes.” We decided we would fly to Phoenix, Arizona for a two day stay, drive to Indio for the music festival, and cap it off with a one-day, one-night stay in good old San Diego.

Have a place to stay? No? Cool. You'll figure it out.
Have a place to stay? No? Cool. You’ll figure it out.

It’s not as though we had no plan, but we were pretty darn close. We found a deal on Groupon for a place to stay in Phoenix, on the plane – an hour before we landed in Phoenix. Thanks to having friends in every random pocket of the US, I didn’t even have to consult the interwebs to be steered towards the best coffee shops, and watering holes. Phoenix wasn’t a bad place – we played the lottery a few times and decided if we won we would just stay and send for our things.

However we never hit it big so after a quick trip to the local Walmart (we obviously weren’t prepared with camping gear or any other survival necessities) we were on our way to the deserts of California. Heck, I didn’t even own a sleeping bag. I had rolled up a few old blankets in my yoga mat and figured a.) It’s the desert; I’m going to be hot as balls so I don’t even want a sleeping bag, and b.) How much sleep am I even going to be getting?

Coachella was a beast all her own. Once again – very little organization. We had bands and artists that were non-negotiable that we HAD to see, but most days we woke up and made a tentative schedule which sometimes had to be adjusted due to needing to sprint to the car at the start of or in between sets (our site was about a mile from the festival) to shotgun beers like college kids. It was much more wallet friendly than 9 dollar beers inside the venue.

I saw some amazing performances (Azealia Banks, Wild Flag, Grace Potter & The Nocturnals, Feist, Mikke Snow, The Shins, Radiohead, Neon Indian, Grouplove, Girltalk, Justice, Santigold, Flux Pavillion, The Black Keys, The Hives) and most importantly – yes, I did get to see the Tupac hologram. I also saw some d-list celebrities, a complete disregard for proper hydration, and a lot of half-naked girls trying to wear doilies and call them clothes. The weekend ended with me dipping my freakishly filthy toes into the Pacific ocean, something I had never done in my twenty seven years of life (Did I mention this epic adventure fell on my birthday – which I was able to spend poolside with Bloody Mary’s surrounded by palm trees in Arizona?) It was truly one of, if not the most, memorable trip I’ve ever taken.

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Dear Grace Potter,
YUM.
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Didn’t hate that San Diego sunset.

Looking back, I guess the No-Plan-Plan has always been a part of my life. I’ve moved blindly across the country and back, and made plenty of irrational decisions without any thought or consequence of the future. I’ve neglected to make a plan when it probably could have proved helpful. To some only having the skeleton for the idea of what life may be seems reckless, irresponsible – and maybe it’s naïve to think things will always fall into place for me, but for the most part they do seem to. There’s a power in trusting that things will always at the very least be okay – and that’s all I really need to be in life.

Writing about Coachella may seem inane so many months after it occurred but I find myself once again marinating on the idea of the “No-Plan-Plan,” and acknowledging it’s ever tangible presence in my life.

I’m moving this summer but I can’t tell you where yet. Not because I’m keeping it a secret, but because I don’t know myself. I just need the dots, not the lines – and I’ll connect them as I go.

As I said, the No-Plan-Plan is not for the faint of heart. It’s not for people who like things like Lisa Frank trapper keepers full of appointments, or logical life things like saving money and not living off of PB & J sandwiches to get by. Maybe it’ll be different in the next decade of my life but for now – the No Plan-Plan stands as my life plan.

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Bill and I, Coachella 2012.

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