I’ve never been big on the concept of a bucket list. Thinking about my inevitable descent into decrepitude and death, unless of course I am fortunate enough to be hit by a bus, depresses me. I also find it disheartening to list things I want to do but for one reason or another cannot. If I want to feel that miserable I’ll go swimsuit shopping, thanks.
But the idea of an anti-bucket list, as in a list of things I hope never to do — or at least never to do again — before shuffling off this mortal coil? Now that definitely appeals.
Top 10 Things I Don’t Want to Do Before I
Die Go to a Delightful Heaven Filled with Bunnies and Calorie-Free Chocolate
10. Sit through a YA movie. Sorry, RPatz, you were sparkly, but it wasn’t enough.
9. Sit next to a person who decides to trim her fingernails on the LAX-OAK shuttle.
8. Sit next to a person who after trimming her fingernails on the LAX-OAK shuttle proceeds to pull off her socks and go for the toes. True story.
7. Eat a spleen sandwich. (Sicilian delicacy. Should have just spit it out. Didn’t. Regret the error.)
6. Weigh myself between the third Thursday in November and St. Patrick’s Day. (Because green beer can blunt even the harshest truths.)
5. Visit Versailles. Sorry, Francophiles & Marie Antoinetters, it’s incredibly crowded, hot, muggy, basically consists of a few bits of musty furniture except for the hall of mirrors which would be cool if it were not floor-to-ceiling reflections of tourists taking pictures of themselves taking pictures and there is a disturbing lack of outdoor seating and gin.
4. Swim in the ocean. One word: sharks. Two words: jelly fish. Two other words: rip tides. See also: “cold,” “choppy,” “cramps,” “search was called off on account of darkness,” and “not waving but drowning.” (H/T Stevie Smith.)
3. Visit the Richard Nixon Presidential Library & Museum with the Kansas delegation to the Republican Convention. We got to the video wall showing Nixon’s resignation.They cried. I laughed. Bus ride back to San Diego was a tad stony.
2. Sit through a wine tasting with someone who has recently become a Master of Wine. I’m sorry. I know you studied hard. I know you learned an insane amount of wine facts. I’m impressed, really I am. But if you bring up igneous soil one more time, schist is going to hit the fan. (Little wine humor there for you.)
1. Cook pumpkin pie from scratch. Yeah, I know you were expecting something more dramatic like “Drink three 7&7s and then show up uninvited to party thrown by ex-boyfriend.” Or, “Drink a lot of homemade wine at a newspaper party and then commandeer the band’s microphone and sing “Crazy,” and then have the worst hangover of your life the next day with two children under the age of 6 and your husband who helpfully keeps saying, `I told you so. I told you not to drink too much,’ and then the NEXT next day get up at 6-freaking-a.m. to cover a news event where you find yourself surrounded by people from that damned party, none of whom have suffered memory loss. Unlike you.” Which was pretty epic, but no, I’m going with pumpkin. Do you know how hard it is to peel a pumpkin? Do you? Do you know how slimy pumpkin innards are and their power to spread themselves to all four corners of the kitchen? Are you aware that after you have hacked the pumpkin, and your fingers, to pieces and boiled and mashed it the little bugger comes out both watery AND fibrous and not at all like the smooth, unctuous puree you could have bought 2/$3.99 at the grocery store? I do, friends. I do.