My bucket list actually includes getting the hell OUT of St. Louis, but thank you Facebook.
Everyone has a bucket list. Most people don't write theirs down because its terrifying to think someone might find it and read it out loud. Much like your Google search history. What if at funerals, they didn't sign hymns and say prayers but just read an entire month's worth of your Google searches aloud for everyone to hear? Wouldn't that be fun? Definitely- unless it was your Google history.
Anyway, bucket lists are helpful to some people. They can help sketch out long term goals, time frames for these goals, and they rarely ever include references to other people. In short, bucket lists are one way to remind you that you'll die alone. So better get crackin' on that to do list. And better empty your cache.
Recently I watched that terrible Bucket List movie. I cried at the end because I am capable of female emotion, but I spent the majority of the film wondering why these things are so common for people on their bucket lists:
1. Skydiving: Okay, jumping out of a plane. I get it: what big balls you have. Now try riding the Metrolink at 3am or having lunch at that sketchy hole in the wall sushi place out by the mall. I am not scared of making one swift move that could plummet me to my death. I am afraid of making hundreds of small moves that could land me in the middle of white mediocrity with my kids screeching and spilling Kool Aid everywhere and my husband yelling Jeopardy answers at the TV. And never making it a question. Part of the challenge is making it a question.
2. Getting a Tattoo: Again, so very scary. Except this time it only gets scary eight months out when you're perusing the internet and find this terrifying article on Hepatitis and you're certain you've acquired it. Also, when you're 40, your kids are going to be really confused about their heritage if you have to explain your clover, your cross, your star, your chinese symbols, the date of your last period and your butterfly holding a sparkler.
3. Drive a Fast Car: Enjoy it while you can. And please stay off my street. And don't tell too many people about your car thing. They might get the wrong idea and not want to have sex with you, which leads me to...
4. Have Sex With a Whole Bunch of People: Gross. Just get a cat if you're that lonely. And don't do inappropriate things with the cat. That's not what I meant. I just meant cuddle it and tell it your secrets.
5. Travel the World: Okay now this one I like. Unless you're traveling with one backpack and a whole bunch of body odor. Then no. I like to travel. I also like my things. My things include my soap, shampoo, conditioner, razor, lotion, face lotion, jewelry, clothes, shoes, books, musical instruments, iphone, various charging devices, notebooks, bees, ham sandwiches, Newsweek subscription, martini shaker, candles, pillows, blankets, towels, scarves, laundry baskets, pampered chef ice cream scoop, dishwasher, and cats. The cats are of utmost importance. (See #4.) So no, I'm not willing to travel the world in 86 chapters. I will travel in small increments in the span of my life. Some people call these small increments "vacations." And I plan to live in a half dozen more places before I die. But no. I like all my shit. I am American.
Also, my personal bucket list is a secret and will remain so until my death when it will be read aloud in a very depressing memorial service. (Because clearly I did not get to all that stuff. "But she tried.. oh how she tried.") And that will be that.
But just a little teaser...my bucket list includes teaching a dog to read.
