The wildest thing I ever did was go white water rafting (stage 3) without THE RAFT with the Kiwis.

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The wildest thing I'd ever done was go into unmarked ski territory when a friend had onset frostbite.

Ran off to San Francisco, practically penniless, with two buddies and got into all kinds of mischief…

as a 16-year old summer student of german in munich, i decided to go to austria for a weekend without a visa (pre-EU). when my train arrived to salzburg and i tried to cross the border, i was promptly escorted by police back onto to the train. bc i am stubborn, i got off at the next stop in a tiny bavarian town around midnight and went looking for a place to stay. found a boy my age (i am a girl) at a gas station who volunteered to take me to a little hotel that he knew of. i spoke little german he spoke little english. when we got there, the owner was not there. my companion suggested that the only place the owner might be at would be the only biergarten in town. went there, no owner, decide to wait around and see if the owner would turn up, had beers in the meantime. couple of hours later, he took pity on me and took me home. there was hardly any furniture in his apartment but a big mattress on the floor and another boy there (i never found out but looking back i think he was probably gay or they could not afford another bed, either one). they graciously offered space on their mattress and then got up early and left asking me to lock up when i leave. more than ten years later, i remember this simple friendly gesture with a lot of tenderness. everything about that night was youth and innocence and taking chances. the next morning, i actually managed to sneak into austria and had a great weekend in salzburg.

I went to a midnight screening of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince dressed as Max because I had heard through the grapevine (and by grapevine I mean the film's blog-site, which I followed/follow obsessively) that a new cut of the trailer would be premiering before the film! I dealt with parents and children asking what exactly, the hell, it was that I was dressed as (elaborately, I might add, with, among other intricacies, crown on head and duster as tail). The teaser ended up being the same trailer I'd spent most of 2009 watching, just cut by 30 seconds. But still, I felt gratitude for being able to watch it on such a large screen with such a good sound system, surrounded by my Harry-Potter dressed (best) friends and strangers.

This isn't particularly wild at all, is it? But it does make a case for why I deserve the making-of book, I hope.

I once spent the night in the attic of a rented-out hostel. It was a room so awful and barely used that they only charged $6.
The space was filled with leftover dirty clothes and random objects/pieces of paper. Somewhere buried underneath the rubble was a mattress. I pulled most of it out into the centre of the room and went to sleep.
I was awoken by sharp jabs to my stomach seemingly coming from the matress. Underneath I heard a muffled voice shouting “someone’s sleeping on the hole!”
I struggled out of bed and lifted up the mattress to find a disheveled man from the floor below.
“Hey buddy. I left my sneakers up there. Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
He climbed up a ladder through the hole in the floor and looked around for a few minutes.
“I’m surprised you were okay with this room, man. Usually the racoons sleep up here.”
He left. Again through the hole.

The End

ps. I have also licked a public step (for a dare) and eaten mysterious, discarded cookies found in the middle of a field (as a child).

After a concert, I snuck onto the Ramones tour bus headed to San Francisco.

I filled 2 buckets of water in a condom, tried to pick it up and then got wet (not in a good way). Ok, it's not wild, but a bit crazy.

Animal Kingdom at Disneyworld. That was wild.

I built a spaceship in an old pickle factory in East London (Hackney) out of chicken wire, bamboo, egg cartons, heads of lettuce, and twenty cans of spray paint. Then I scoured the old magic shops of london and taught myself how to throw fireballs and pierce my tongue. And one day, on the ship, a mariachi band appeared out of nowhere and began to play sad Mexican ballads. The people cried and shook the maracas while the aliens learned about love.

Ah, theatre. Extending horizons..no boundaries.

As a young teenager, I climbed out my window and went through the night with some friends. I stood outside the liquor store until I got someone to get some Mogen David (or Mad Dog) 20/20 for us (that was all I knew what to get). Then we shared the bottle, laughed, and wandered around all night. We finally went to sleep on a picnic table in the middle of a park. At dawn we awoke to a police car driving through the field. He asked us what we were doing. We told him we were staying at a friends house across the field. Accepting our story, he said, "OK" and went away. I went back home and climbed back into the window of my bedroom and went back to bed, undetected.

hitch-hiked in a tractor-trailer across the argentine/chilean border, with a driver and his "compañero" that had tear drop tattoos under his eye. 6 hour drive, >3500 meter elevation, hundreds of dollars in cash in my pocket. maybe not so bright, but definitely wild. . . and lived to tell about it

I accidentally smoked pot laced with opium with a Barcelona homeless man.

I tried to hop a freight train from NYC to Oregon-when that failed I took a 3 and a half day long Greyhound trip with 20 dollars to my name. I showered with wet naps and had my wallet stolen in Chicago. When I got to Oregon I couldn't find the person I was supposed to crash with, so I ended up sleeping in a park with 3 hippies I'd met that night at the IHOP of Eugene Oregon.

Posted a comment on Flavorpill attempting to win a free book. Boring to you? Wild to me!

I crashed my car into my high school – not intentionally – but the fact that I did, to this day, is pretty wild to me.

Put my retirement money in the stock market.

got intimate with a co-worker at work in the basement

In the spirit of youth, my sister and I threw blankets upon blankets upon sleeping bags to build a buffer out our bedroom windows in order to plummet from the second story to ground outside- and then jumped… It was fun, simple and somewhat dangerous for an 8 and 13 year old. Right on!

Jumped on the wrong white bus due to poor russian language skills, consequently partied with the touring mayor of moscow, his entourage and a bottle of very expensive brandy at 10 am in the morning, got special escort back to the airport driving in the on-coming traffic in order not to miss my plane to St. Petersburg, the plane got delayed half an hour because of me – i felt like a douche, but come on, that's wild. I wished my camera was not traveling with my producer first class Air France, but with me, economy, Continental, so I had footie to prove it. He missed all the wild fun though

I went canyoning in Interlaken Switzerland. I got sucked into a whirlpool at one point and assumed I was bound for death – ironic since I'd been a lifeguard most summers of my life and I also thought I'd be in trouble because Switzerland wasn't on my original itinerary when I told my parents I'd be going backpacking in Europe. About a minute and a half of swirling around in ice cold water, a guide pulled me out and I'm alive today. YAY!

Hitchiked from Albania north through Bosnia, Herzegovina, and Hungary, unable to communicate a word, rubbing my stomach when I was hungry and pointing North on maps to signal where I needed to go. The countries were crazy war torn; all of the buildings were strewn with bullet holes, and skyscrapers loomed with gaping bomb holes in their cores. Stepping off of the asphalt was a hazard because of land mines and I became a vegetarian for five years after eating the meat on this trip- it was so fresh it was mooing in my belly!

I just posted this comment from a public computer without wearing gloves. Wild, right?

I hiked cross country, by compass, through grizzly country in Wyoming. There were four inches of snow on the ground. I had no maps for most of it. I made it.

On the same trek, I was forced to drink water out of a trough with dead birds, and a dead bat, in it.

Did a trapeze show for an audience of wildebeests and zebras while flying in (or below, as it were) a hot air balloon above the Serengeti.

My favourite club in the whole world is/was Trade @ Turnmills in London. They still do one-offs at other venues around the globe, but they had just announced their final Trade at Turnmills only 3 weeks in advance. I booked a last minute ticket leaving NYC Friday night, arriving London Saturday morning @ 10am. The venue opened at 5am on Sunday. I danced for the next 12 hours until the very last song and left on a 10pm flight home. Time on UK soil: 36 hours. Time in the air: 15 hours (total travel time door to door: 20 hours). Was it worth it? Hell yeah.

decided one day my life was boring so i quit my desk job and moved to prague for six months.

i wrote my name and number on the boys bathroom wall

Ok, I have one more. When I was 14 and my brother was 16 we both had fake IDs. One night after my parents went to sleep @ 11pm, we snuck out , took the 12:00 train to NYC, went to the Mudd Club, stayed until 4, and then got the first train home at 5:30, and were atnding in the kitchen, smelling like smoke, drunk, and eating everything in site due to the munchies. Our mother came down the stairs and said: "My, you boys are up early!"

Every month I road race motorcycles just for the fun of it – not a pro or anything. The major upside each weekend is the drive home on Sunday – if I'm driving myself back that means I didn't chuck myself down the road too bad that weekend. I've been run over by other bikes twice, once at roughly 80 mph as I was sliding face-first across the track, once at a standstill with the guy's tire tracks somehow on both sides of my bike, my ass, and part of my helmet. I hit another bike at full throttle and scattered myself all over the place, then played dodge ball with 20 bikes coming up behind me through a blind uphill turn, and once my bike first threw me off and once I landed it ran me over just for good measure – broken chest, ribs, arm, punctured lung (tension pneumothorax – it was on "Trauma" last week!) and a helicopter ride to the hospital. At the ECU I asked the doctor for pen and paper so I could make a list of parts to replace so I could make the next race. :-)

But you really should give the book to my wife – we got engaged the night before my helicopter life-flight and she's still my biggest supporter at the track.

I surprised everyone (including myself) and broke up with my longtime (but not so great) boyfriend to follow my heart. It was wild to me and turned out to change my life for the better.

At about 12 years old I hitched a ride with my older brother and his friends to my first punk rock show. We saw NoFX at Las Palmas theater in Hollywood. I borrowed some of my brother's cut off dickies and his LA's Wasted Youth t-shirt with a picture of Ronald Regan on it…along with my Doc Martin's to look the part. I got shoved in the back of an SUV because the car was full and I was the smallest. I was in love with NoFX at the time and especially the lead singer, Fat Mike. At the show, I proceeded to take my bra off and throw it up on stage at Fat Mike as a symbol of my love for the band…immediately after they began throwing can's of beer into the crowd. It was a great gesture all around!

While living with my little brother we had just resigned our lease for one more year in Boulder, CO and life was looking good. Within 2 wks he and I had both lost our jobs, we found someone to take over our lease, had job interviews in San Francisco and $500 between us with no more income until we found jobs — we packed up our two separate cars (mine full of video editing computer, 2 cats, and 2 tarantulas) and we drove straight to SF, taking an adirol in Salt Lake to make the drive a solid burn through the night as to avoid the desert heat (my car had no AC). We made it! Chaos ensued over the follow months and we barely made it – but we did, we are both still in the Bay Area and doing great! Everyone thought we were crazy to leap so far – but we landed it.

On a trip to Korea a few years ago, I visited the Kyongju royal tombs. These tombs from afar look like lush green hills and I couldn't resist climbing one of these hills on all fours and standing on the peak with my fists in the air. my friend from below took a picture while a few other tourists looked on in bewilderment. after the picture was taken I slid down the hill/tomb in my skirt and i was pretty much covered in grass stains on my back after that. nobody else from my tour group ever knew what happened…if they found out, i'd probably have gotten kicked out! it was the wildest thing i'd ever done; i don't know any other person that can say they climbed a royal tomb… Here's a picture of what these royal tombs look like: http://londonkoreanlinks.net/album/tags/suwon/pho…

The wildest thing I've ever done? Well, I ran around the block in my neighborhood in the wee a.m. hours screaming at the top of my lungs. I was barefooted and topless in my boxer shorts! Man, that was wild (and fun). LOL.

After an engagement that went completely south, I packed my bags, left a floundering writing career, and moved to a country 20,000 miles away from home. On the way to the airport, someone snatched my wallet and with it, 2 years of meticulously stashed away savings. I arrived in the US with no money, a suitcase of clothes, and pretty much nothing else. For the next 4 years, I worked odd jobs, pulled myself out of an emotional rut, and slowly allowed myself to trust people again.

8 years since landing at LAX, my eyes still bloodshot, and my heart bleeding like a gaping wound, I am now writing again for a living, married to the one of the most fantastic human beings on this planet, and day by day, living my own version of the American dream.

Leaving everything that was familiar to dispel all the myths I thought were true about me. Yep, that was the wildest, craziest, and most life-affirming thing I have ever done.

While I've had many fun and often scary adventures in my life – hiking across England, mountain biking in the Scottish highlands, climbing Mt. Whitney, white water rafting, backpacking into a volcano – I have to say the wildest thing I've ever done is to skydive. A human pretending to be a bird is just about as looney tunes as it gets. Total fear followed by total panic followed by an overwhelming sense of freedom followed by pure bliss followed by gratitude and new outlook on life as your feet once again make contact with the earth. A thrill like no other.

I Was part of a three person crew for a friends feature length film production. three weeks of shooting across southern Arizona during winter. It was a cold (it snowed), stressful, back breaking, independent, guerrilla style, wonderful experience.

I'd say it was probably drinking the European version of a long island iced tea (meaning – with absinthe) in Prague standing in the middle of the floor of the 2000 Skateboarding competition with dozens of people skating all around me as people swung from a chain coming down from the ceiling of the tent where this massive skatepark was created. It was a whirlwind of craziness – inside and out. Very Where the Wild Things Are, I think.

i snuck off to TJ while my parents were out of town, for a concert in my mom’s brand new car (no license plates)was so excited to get to the show that my friends and I stormed out of the car to catch the show and left the windows down… we left a few cd’s out, our overnight bags and an mp3 player… and to our surprise EVERYTHING was still there…

When I was snowboarding in Mont Tremblant, I got off the gondola and sat down to put my snowboard on and it slipped from my hand and went sliding down the mountain on it's own. I went running down after it screaming in the best french I could muster to try get it. Once I got to it I tried climbing back up the mountain but kept falling down from altitude sickness… might not have been the most fun, but it was definitely WILD!

Went wine tasting after donating blood.

wild  [wahyld] –adjective
1.living in a state of nature; not tamed or domesticated: a wild animal.
2.uncultivated, uninhabited
3.uncivilized or barbarous: wild tribes.

The most recent wild thing I've done is go to Esalen in Big Sur. I got naked and jumped into outdoor hot tubs with a lot of other naked people. It was like a tub of flesh. This place overlooks the rocks and ocean and is amazingly beautiful. It's actually more liberating than wild I suppose – being free out in the open butt naked for all to see.

I was in Bangkok, Thailand and went to Pat Pong (not sure of the correct spelling) which is the red light district in Bangkok, because I heard there was a woman there who shot ping pong balls out of her private parts. So I dressed up as best I could to look like Richie Tenenbaum, the tennis player from the movie The Royal Tenenbaums, and brought a ping pong paddle with me. So I waited in this gross Thai strip club/brothel and waited for the ping pong ball woman to come out, eventually she did, and as soon as the first ping pong ball shot into the audience, I jumped up and smacked the ball back on onto the stage. Everybody in the place erupted with laughter and the woman shot another 2 or 3 dozen balls my way until her bucket of balls was empty. I even let some of the other patrons of the strip club have a few swings. I think I still have that ping pong paddle somewhere too. Anyway, that's my ping pong in Pat Pong story. hope it's wild enough for ya!

During college, I stayed up five days in a row in order to complete a project (archicture school). After the second day, once the hallucinations started to kick in and I felt all floaty, I got pretty wild. It was the middle of winter, so I wore a tightly fitted hooded zip up sweatshirt and large moonboots. It suddenly seemed like the right moment to put the hoodie up tightly around my face and stomp around the corridors and studio desks like a velozaraptor.I'd start charging after anyone I saw and it didn't matter if I knew them or not. Then after that excitment wore off and people started coming back around (apparently, I was scary) I started to bark like a dog – a cocker spaniel/french poodle mix to be precise. Some people actually started looking for a dog hiding in the building. I cannot account for what I did on the fifth day of no sleep. But eventually i collapsed on my bedroom floor and slept for 23.25 hours.

At age 19, drove coast-to-coast in a station wagon with almost no money and only a big dog for company… Paid for gas, but for food & shelter depended solely on the kindness of strangers (and friends here and there). Was a wild and wooly trip…some of the risks i took make me cringe looking back at it from my 15-years-older self – but it was a blast!

Way back when on a summer evening I was hanging out in my favorite haunt listening to some great music-
it was last call and as I always hated for the night to end– I found my way to an "after hours" place where a young man caught my eye– we chatted —left together and commenced with some rather intense "making out"—Because it was a hot night we soon found ourselves outside, on the ground and "Inflagranti Delicto"–our being on the ground the poor fellow's derriere became quite the meal for some very hungry mosquitoes and I in turn lost my wallet—never to be found—–sadly the fellows name escapes me—-

the wildest thing I've done is to be alive

When I was 19 I hopped a train from Seattle, heading to SF to visit friends, but got pulled off by Roger, the Bull in Klamath Falls. We were riding under an 18 wheeler on a platform (a piggyback), thats how Roger caught us. Got sent to jail, but the cells were already full with other train hoppers. So hitchiked, got a ride with a trucker in his rig. He dropped us off in Oakland, we barted to the city and had burritos when we got to the Mission. Rad! I suppose the Greyhound bus ride back down to Klamath for my court date adds an extra degree of "wild" to an already wild time.

The wildest thing I have ever done is change my name from Seth to Max after reading the book Where The Wild Things Are. As a child, I loved this book and got it into my head that I wanted to be named after the kid in the wolf suit. When I told my parents of my decision, they thought it was cute and a temporary fixation. After a couple days of calling me Max, they began to call me Seth again. But I ignored them, refusing to speak until they called me Max, sometimes not even responding to a call for supper just to make my point. On the first day of kindergarten, I had my mom make me a t-shirt with iron letters spelling out Max so that everyone would know my new moniker. I marched up to the teacher and said that even though my name was listed as Seth on the student roster, I was actually Max (incidentally, I got bumped in the nose that day and had a major bloody nose all over my shirt, but still refused to take it off). As I got to be a teenager, my student record was under Max, my medical records and birth social security number were under Seth, the military was sending me recruitment letters addressed to both Seth and Max. It was getting confusing. So, at age 18, I found myself in court, wedged somewhere between a domestic abuse case and divorce proceeding, standing in front of the judge explaining why I wanted to change my name. He heard my tale, cracked a slight smile, banged the gavel and pronounced me as Max. And so for $70 (the fee for a name change at that time) and a lot of patience and stubbornness, I finally got the name I was supposed to have: Max.

i drank from a stream in the wadi musa (jordan)

The wildest thing I've ever done? Well, I ran around the block in my neighborhood in the wee a.m. hours screaming at the top of my lungs. I was barefooted and topless in my boxer shorts! Man, that was wild (and fun). LOL. Sometimes you gotta let loose when life gets thick.

i drew my own version of where the wild things are and sent it to my husband in jail. super wild!

When I was a teenager we lived out in the country miles from anywhere. On the night of my final High School exam, at two am in the morning, my sister, the boy next door and myself jumped in my beaten up old red Datsun in our pyjamas and drove to the big city. It took us three hours to get there. Amongst other things we met a girl called Jilly and we were pulled over by the police in the scariest part of town because my sister had her feet with big fluffy slippers on poking out the back seat window as I drove around. We ended up on a beach at dawn and watched the sun come up. It was the day when I started growing up.

Sixteen years ago I headed out to Prague from SF, didn't speak Czech. I had only the address of a friend of a friend, he was expecting me but didn't have a phone. After 3 planes, arriving in Prague at night, taking the metro and a cab to his house, I saw the building was under construction, with the silhouette of a tall man in the doorway. It was Petr, and he and his girlfriend had dinner waiting. I ended up moving to Prague for a year, a multi-colored-haired punk rock girl in a city with brown air.

After 10-years as an Art Director, I took a 6-month sabbatical during which I spent a month volunteering in the basin of the Peruvian Amazon doing manual labor at a research center involving extended hours wielding a machete. The work itself wasn't necessarily wild, but we had a pet Capybara (aka the largest rodent in the world) named Ron who would bathe with us daily in the Amazon's murky Tambopata river as we waved at passing tourist boats. Pretty surreal, but I have to admit that I do miss that large, lovable 125-lb rodent.

I started a fire in a field of hay. I was too young to know it would spread like it did.
Even though this happened about 25 years ago, my brother still threatens to tell my Mum.