Posts Tagged ‘hula hoop’

Because no one used to have a bucket list. People had wishes and desires, things to do and see before long, before death, but they did not have bucket lists by the name MY BIG FAT BUCKET LIST

That’s why.

1. learn Italian

2. learn African drumming

3. learn to hula hoop (again)

4. learn to love more (aw!)

5. learn to smoke less

6. learn to limit my cigarette intake

7. true or false?

8. bucket, fuck it!

9. learn to fence

10. leather jackets are squeaky, didja ever notice?

11. how do those Kama Sutra people have safe sex with all of those bracelets all over their arms? OUCH!

12. set up a permanent place (a goddamn office like I used to have) for one of my massage tables. I am awesome and I should work and I miss it (remember: there’s no massage like a Glatter massage)

13. bike more

14. bike some

15. bike a little

16. just bike already, okay?

17. Burning Man? probably not

18. another tattoo (more likely than Burning Man, but not very likely)

19. attend the births of my grandchildren (If I’m lucky enough to get some some day AND I’m invited. Adopted is good, too. I’ll take adopted)

20. learn to use a hammer and ladder much better than I currently can

21. learn to chop wood

22. survival skills

23. star of stage and screen, no matter how small

24. write a poem. AT LEAST one. One, just one fucking poem, okay?

25. sex position. Learn a new sex position. With or without bracelets. Okay, no bracelets or rings. NO PIERCINGS either.

26. don’t be a hater (aw!)

27. Kegels

28. why on god’s earth are Kegels named after a man? You think we didn’t think of that before doc? Fuck that, you bastard.

29. eat more

30. eat less

31. cook more

32. on second thought, make enough money to have a very large house with separate quarters for a live-in cook. But he/she is well-paid and gets lots of days off.

33. help build a Habitat for Humanity house

34. really! that one was for real (not that the other ones weren’t, but maybe that one gives me and the entire post the necessary gravitas)

35. shed inner conflict and don’t listen to the demons of doubt about dropping capitalizations and/or punctuation. whenever I feel like it, esp in blog comments. Haphazard, arbitrary, sometimes, always, never. Keep ’em guessing!!!

36. when I searched google images for Kama Sutra, I didn’t expect a stone carving with a donkey (horse?) to show up. I am SO not doing that!

37. how many items do people usually have on their bucket lists?

38. do not write stupid, insignificant, self-indulgent posts

39. I know, read Infinite Jest

40. but not really

41. how about, I’ll just reread all my favorite books from forever including books from my childhood and my childrens’ childhoods

42. and movies, too, yes, all those movies I love, especially Godfather I and II and Tarkovsky, Nostalgia

43. c’mon, all the kids are doing it–that’s what blogging is for (see #38)

44. marvel at the beauty of the central image of Infinite Jest and simply keep letting Hubby fill you in on the important parts of important novels. He’s your walking Cliff Notes, use him.

45. and TV: Cracker and Sopranos but not The Wire, no, except for Omar, I’ll just watch Omar

46. Omar

Carry on

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Today I have a migraine hangover, it is true. I had a sudden ocular migraine last night, very late, just when I wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep. Instead, I took a couple of generic excedrin and wandered aimlessly around the house, attempting to complete the laundry while experiencing the shimmering, broken prismatic lights that appeared with increasing intensity in my right eye. What I still try to do at these times (they do occur more often at night) is my bedtime crossword which is pretty funny. Even the Monday NY Times crossword, the easiest of the week, was a challenge because I could only read about every other word and every third number.

Now I am a bit hazy but my sense of humor is intact.

I just picked up Violet at the annual WRSI Meltdown in Northampton, a mishmash of music, food, school booths, demonstrations, lambs, snakes, hissing cockroaches, gymnastics demos. You get the picture.

When my kids were small, my friend’s husband, Curtis, called children “schmeeks.” My friends had 2 schmeeks at the time, slightly older than my 2 schmeeks (they since added another schmeek who is still in schmeekdom at 7-years old).

Paul dropped Vi off earlier today so she could participate in her fencing club’s demonstration. When he arrived back home I asked how it was. “It should be called ‘Hot Mom Fest'” said he. “Not without me there,” said I. “True,” said he.

When I went to pick Violet up, I swear I did not see any hot moms. I did, however, look at the hula hoops all over the ground at one of the outdoor booths and rather than just debating about it like I usually do, I bought one.

I cannot hula hoop to save my life.

I have got the rhythm, there is no doubt, but I do not get the rocking. It is not about hips because there are some skinny-ass women who can hula hoop like nobody’s business and even men can hula hoop and everyone knows that they don’t have hips or at least not the curvy kind.

is the I-beam really necessary dude?

I do not have space in my house to practice using the hula hoop, but I could try in the backyard. This leaves me open to some problems: neighbors. You may have noticed that I’m not particularly shy but I also don’t relish the thought of trying to master operate a hula hoop in full view of anyone.

Maybe if I put on a dress, it will put me in a more favorable mental state for success:

if I get really skilled, I might be able to gain entry to Burning Man some year, just hang out on the playa

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