… except I can ride a motorcycle.
I yelled this at my sister the other day when she was arguing with me about how cool I really am. It just came out, but now that I’ve thought it about it more, I’m ready to back up this statement.
- I LOVE tattoos. And since he has so many, I’m assuming he does too.
- When I am speaking regularly, I have a gender-appropriate pitch, but when I sing, people start to wonder if I’m really a man trapped in a girl’s body. Adam’s voice also suffers from gender-confusion.
- We’re both the perfect combination of nice, funny, and douchebag-y.
- Maroon is one of my favorite colors.
- Christina Aguilera irks me, but I also can’t stop staring at her boobs.
All I need now is a Victoria Secret supermodel and we’d pretty much be the same entity. I have Judy though, so I’d say that’s pretty close.
Anyways, back to the motorcycle thing.
When I turned 21, oh so many years ago, I wrote a bucket list that had been brewing inside my head for quite some time:
1) go sky diving
2) write a NYT best-seller
3) travel to all 7 continents
4) win the Nobel Peace Prize
5) finish a FRIDAY crossword puzzle sans help
6) compete in the AVP tour
7) become a photographer and have a picture sold at an art gallery
8) conquer a black diamond via snowboard
9) own a bakery
10) invent something
11) write a song and perform it live
12) change someone’s life
13) live abroad
14) learn how to make a classic espresso
15) play a full round of golf
16) follow Elizabeth Gilbert’s journey
17) become Martha Stewart’s successor
18) learn French, Italian, and at least one Indian language
19) make my own wine
20) restore a classic Mustang
21) learn to ride a motorcycle
The Beastie immediately responded. I thought she was going to tell me “OMG, I WANT TO DO ALL THOSE THINGS TOO! LET’S DITCH COLLEGE AND EXPERIENCE LIFE!” so I ran off and started packing my duffel bag, ready for some adventure! Halfway through my wool-sock drawer, I got distracted and came back to Facebook. That’s when I actually read the Beastie’s comment:
i like that you’re def online but not responding to my texts betch!
p.s. i want to skydive tooo
Damnit. Time to start unpacking. Worse, I actually have to write the paper due the next day because evidently, we are not bailing on this ” silly college thing.” Worse worse, I got caught not responding to my texts! Oops. You won’t like the Beastie when she’s angry!
Just kidding :)
But seriously, the only one she wants to do is go sky diving? Sure, it’s the one that terrifies me the most, and I’ll definitely need someone to hold my hand (and maybe change my diaper afterwards), but what about the other 20 things? Who’s going to help me with those?
Soon after, someone else also responded to the sky diving comment.
Seriously people, did you even read the rest of the list?!
From now on, I’m sticking sky-diving somewhere in the middle.
Anyways, 2012 has been an awesome year thus far, because I’ve been able to knock multiple things off this list! I knew this would happen coming into the year because, well, twelve is my favorite number. And according to Professor McGonagall, magical things always happen to you when it’s your favorite number’s year!
What did I actually accomplish, you ask?
Well for one thing, I most definitely got a DSLR and the Rosetta Stone for French and Italian, so I can pretty much half-cross off #7 & #18. I’ve also played a bunch of rounds of 9-hole, so cumulatively, I can half cross off #15.
But seriously. Last harvest, (with a lot of help), I made my own 5 gallon batch of premium-grade Cabernet Sauvignon. So excited to see how it turns out! As long as it’s better than the box wine I was dressed as for Halloween, I’m going to be really happy. If it tastes like the offspring of a grape and a skunk, or like someone poured vinegar all over a durian and then let it sit in the sun for 5 days, then I’ll re-do this bucket list item.
Earlier this year, I also (somehow) managed to carve down a black diamond, so adios #8! I felt so awesome, and buff, and gorgeous. It’s really easy to spot me because I usually wear a highlighter-pink jacket. Guys were whistling and cat-calling from the lifts, dropping panties left and right. AND THEN. I ate it. Bad. But it was all worth it! Which reminds me, I really need to invest in a helmet. The time prior to the last, when boys weren’t oogling me, I had a really bad fall that resulted in a mild concussion. So don’t believe your mom when she says boys find you more attractive when you’re blacked out!
Anyways, onto the MOST exciting news!
I got licensed to ride motorcycles and drop panties worldwide.
Most of you probably already know this because I haven’t been able to stop talking about it, and you probably want to punch me in the face just so I’ll shut up, but I don’t care!
I’ve wanted to be able to ride a motorcycle all my life because growing up, my dad was always obsessed with motorcycles. For my mom’s 18th birthday (yes, they’ve known each other that long. So weird. When I was 18, I had barely just graduated from the training bras in the kids’ section at Target. I’m glad I didn’t meet the love of my life then) he got her MATCHING MOTORCYCLES. So adorable, right? Not that I would ever advocate couples having anything matching, but if it had to be something, matching bikes is pretty bad ass. I feel like I am one step closer to becoming my dad’s favorite child, because now we can start our own bike gang and go terrorize suburban Minnesota!
I’m also super excited to be able to ride around town because I feel like in some small way, the tramp stamp that I picked up when I was 18 (see? I clearly didn’t make good life decisions at that young age) is now justified. How or why? I don’t know. But who cares? I CAN RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.
Now that I have knocked out a few things on my life bucket list before I’ve even turned 24, I’m considering adding a few things, but I’m not sure what. Other than brewing my own batch of beer, I’ve got bucket-list-writer’s-block. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Also, if you’d like to accompany me on anything else, please let me know.
Even if some of these seem impossible, or possimplible, Rick Astley taught me never to give up, so here’s a short tribute to him.
Stay classy, blogoverse!