There’s a hole in my bucket list

Earlier this week a columnist for the Huffington Post wrote about her anti-bucket list, things she absolutely will never do. While I have written various Wanna Do lists over the years (build a house -check, have kids -check), I’ve never been terribly serious about what’s on them. I’m in too deep with the day to day lists right now to try to imagine the Gotta Do items that live on a bucket list. But an I am never, ever going to do this, ever list? Ohh, I got this.

I am never going to jump out of a perfectly functional airplane. The rare times I fly I like to pretend I’m in a magical cylinder that quickly transports me from one place to another, with a single cup of bad soda and pretty pictures on the curved walls. Turbulence is when the magical cylinder rumbles over a gravel road, taking a shortcut to our destination. At no time do I consider the physics of something that large that high up in the air going that fast. Voluntarily opening a hatch and removing oneself from the safety of that magical cylinder to hurtle wildly towards a large unmoving hunk of rock with only a piece of nylon and some rope keeping you from introducing yourself to that hunk of rock in a most unpleasant manner is never going to happen.

I am never going to step out on to the Sears Tower’s Cube. Have no idea what I’m talking about? Here:

Do you see what that is? That is a <bad word> plexiglass cube sticking out the side of the <bad word> tallest building on this continent. There is no <very bad word> way I am ever <lots of very blush-inducing bad words> stepping foot anywhere near that <moderately bad word> thing. I can initiate a panic attack by merely thinking of stepping out onto that thing. A friend shared a picture of her daughter doing a handstand on it; I got lightheaded. It.Will.Never.Happen.

I am never going to give blood. No, not a fear of needles but crazy blood counts. Yes doctor, my platelets are always that low, kindly chill.

I will never order food Thai hot. Dear god, I love my tastebuds too much. And my esophagus. And pretty much every inch of my intestinal tract.

I will never do a Polar Bear Plunge. Have you met me? Did you know that I get cold when it’s under 70 degrees? Did you know that I had a raging flair up of TMJ this past winter and spring because my teeth chattered so constantly and violently that my jaw went into spasm and eventually I managed to crack teeth by clenching against my bite guard as I slept? So jumping into colder than cold water in the flipping dead of winter is just never going to happen. I’m pretty certain my body would quite literally turn itself inside out on the spot, just out of pure shock and horror.

I will never run for political office. My BS tolerance is entirely too low.

I will never drink ouzo. Licorice. ‘Nuff said.

I will never again move with children living under my roof. You may call it tempting fate, I call it go without me. Either that, or we sell every damned thing we own. But I’m not reliving 2011.

Think I’m tempting fate here with this list? I don’t. I’ve learned to never say never, but I guarandamntee nothing on this list will ever come to pass.