Do You Have a Bucket I Can Borrow?

Holy Sith!  I am 3 posts away from my big Blogiversary.  How did this happen?  How did time go by so suddenly?

How do I not have a Big Party planned?

I had every intention of doing something totally wild.  Completely different.  Now, here I am with no plans, no ideas, and no creativity left in my body after nearly one whole year of blogging every single day.

And, to top all of that off, I have completed absolutely nothing on my blogging bucket list.  I still don’t have buzzillion subscribers, no publisher or agent has offered me a contract, AND MY DOG STILL PEES IN THE HOUSE!  I have not made one ounce of progress in 362 days.  And I doubt things will change in the next 3.

On the other hand, I accomplished plenty of things that were not on my list.

• My professional blog, which I do not promote at all in the blogosphere, had more hits each day of last week than this one.  I did not post at all on my professional blog last week.  Not once.  And people still read it more than this one.  Yep.  That stings.
• My bulldog, Wonderbutt, has learned how to text.  It’s quite phenomenal, but David Letterman still has not invited either one of us to appear on “Stupid Pet Tricks”.  Big mistake, Letterman.  We’re talking goldmine, Baby.
• If I yell, “Cap’n Firepants!” in the house, my husband will know that I am talking to him.  And, come running.  Because he does not want to be negatively reflected on my blog.  I’m sure he is wishing now that we had drawn up a Pre-Nuptial Agreement that specifically forbade me to blog.  And denied me a driver’s license.  He hates my driving.  Worse than my blogging.  He would happily change the name on his driver’s license to Mr. Cap’n Firepants if I promised to never drive again.  Maybe.
• My daughter, Dimples, yells, “And you can’t put that on your blog,” immediately after she does anything that might be perceived as embarrassing.  I tell her, “That wasn’t in our Pre-Natal Agreement.”  She doesn’t know what the heck I’m talking about.  Which is actually not a new problem, unfortunately.
• I figured out where Malawi is, because I have exactly one reader there.  Moni, Amayi.  That is supposed to mean, “Hello, Madam” in Malawi.  I think.  If it means something crude, I apologize.
• I am mad at David Sedaris.  At a local appearance, he told an audience member who asked for advice on becoming a writer, “Write every day.”  I now realize that this does, indeed, make me a writer.  But NOT A PAID ONE.  I think that was implied in the question, Mr. Sedaris.  I mean, I know you’re probably sick of that question, and you don’t want to give away any major secrets, but I think you could give us a bit more direction than that.  Sheesh. That would be like someone asking me, “What should I do to become a teacher?”, and me saying, “Teach your dog how to text.”  No, that’s a bad analogy.  BECAUSE YOU WOULD MAKE MONEY IF YOU TAUGHT YOUR DOG TO TEXT!!!!

So, now that I have spent a year filling the wrong dang bucket, I guess I need to decide if I am going to dump it out and start over – or just look for a new bucket.  Or just put the bucket over my head and bang it against the wall.  Yeah, that sounds good.

My original bucket. Getting filled.
photo credit: Simczuk via photo pin cc

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My 365th post is just around the corner, and I am starting to analyze how much I’ve accomplished.  I don’t mind admitting that I’m a bit disappointed.  I haven’t achieved one single item on my bucket list in the last year.  I have not:

• gotten one billion subscribers
• gotten invited to spend a week with the writers of The Daily Show
• gotten a million dollar advance on my book
• lost 5 pounds

In fact, I’ve gained 10 pounds, which is somewhat distressing.

It’s not for lack of effort, I must point out.  I mean, I did a three day pledge drive – which resulted in the least number of new subscribers daily that I’ve ever received.  I mention Jon Stewart every moment I can, barely avoiding being labeled a stalker.  And I think I would have gotten the million dollar advance if The Bloggess had not beaten me to a publishing contract by a couple of years.

I can’t really explain the 10 pounds, but I’m just going to blame it on my “inefficient colon”.  Obviously, everything I eat is being immediately converted to fat instead of, uh, doing what it’s supposed to do.

Now, I always tell my students that the most important part of achieving their dreams is perseverance, so I would be a hypocrite if I gave up on everything now.  That is what normal, easily discouraged people, would do.  So, I am going to stick to my mantra, which is, “Do what you want to do or prove that it can’t be done by killing everyone in your way yourself trying to do it.”  You are welcome to borrow that quote if you like.

Plus, it’s a bucket list.  Which, I am assuming means that I have until the point that I kick the bucket to finish it up.  I have to check the official rules of bucket lists, but I think that, if you start going in the opposite direction of the items on your list, that means you hold off death a bit longer.  But, you can’t make that your goal, because then you have really changed your bucket list, and you will just speed things up.

It’s complicated.

I do feel like it is time to revise my bucket list, though, so here is the new, improved list:

• get 2 billion subscribers who are not relatives, but could conceivably be bribed to type their email address into the little box on my right margin (oops, just realized it’s in my left margin – that explains a lot)
• spend 2 weeks with the writers of The Daily Show.  In their writing room.  Contributing to their writing.  (I thought I should clarify this, because my last goal was a bit too vague, and could have been misconstrued.)
• write the book for which I will get my million dollar contract
• lose 1 pound

I know.  That last one is a bit unrealistic.  But I’m thinking of removing the inefficient colon, by force, if necessary, and surely it weighs at least a pound.

Oh, and I’m not calling it a bucket list anymore.  There is pretty much not one thing that I find motivating about buckets, much less kicking the bucket.  So, it is now my Nantucket List.  As soon as I get it all done, I will give myself a relaxing trip to Nantucket.

And, what the heck, my heart is just as big as Oprah’s, I’ll take my 2 billion subscribers with me.

(P.S.  For the BEST Bucket List EVER, click here.  (Thanks, Guapolawesomest, for this reference.  I’ll let you come to Nantucket, too.  Unless that’s where you live.  In which case, why haven’t you invited me, yet?)

A bucket from Nantucket. I kid you not.                              Photo Credit: http://www.nantucketcountryantiques.com

In Which I Announce that I am Not Pregnant and I Refuse to Do Porn (Probably)

I apologize.  That was kind of a low blow yesterday, teasing you with a Big Announcement on today’s post.  I think I was feeling a bit desperate when I realized how little I actually had to say.

Here’s the deal.  I have this friend who is training to do his first full marathon.  It’s a goal he has because he’s about to turn thirty.

He’s psyched about accomplishing this.  And I am sure he will.  He is Very Fit.  And I,well, I am,  uh – well, I’m not Unfit (except maybe as a mother). When was the last time you were able to run around the living room 10 times dragging a fifty pound Wonderbutt clenched like a vise onto the squeaky toy you’re holding?  So, I am Somewhat Fit.  But I just have no desire to do a marathon.

And another thing.  How is running a marathon a major achievement when you are a Very Fit P.E. teacher who is TWENTY-NINE?  Let me hear about a SIXTY-NINE year old who sits around playing World of Warcraft all day completing a marathon (the running kind), and I’ll throw a party for him.

So, then, I noticed Blue Speckled Pup has taken on a three day manuscript challenge.  Which sounds just as hard as a friggin’ marathon in my opinion.  Again, I am kind of middling qualified for this – I could do a scrapbook retreat for three days maybe.

I was really beginning to feel left out in all of this Bucket-List-milestone stuff when I got a pamphlet in the mail.   And I am pretty confident no one I know, and probably no one who has read this, can claim the following accomplishment:

Adult Spelling Bee Champion.

Yes, folks, you heard it first here.  I am going to participate in – and win – an Adult Spelling Bee.

One of our local writing organizations is sponsoring one in December.  At least I think it’s the writing organization who is sponsoring it.  It is on their calendar in their pamphlet of Fall courses.

Now that I think about it, I’m hoping it doesn’t have a Strip Club behind it.  I mean, the word “Adult” could imply something completely different than what I initially imagined.

O.K.  I’m having second thoughts.  I think I better find out a few more details before I start my training regimen.  I mean, I don’t think I’d have a problem with spelling pornographic words, but if there is some kind of performing required, I might have to reconsider.

I still have some dignity.  I mean, I’m not a skank or anything.