98 Things…

April 21

98 Things A Woman Should Do In Her Lifetime

Today at Chapters I picked up this little book by Rebekah Shardy.  I had two very good reasons for doing so.  I have to go through Chapters when I leave the mall after getting my hair done, and I cannot possibly go through Chapters without buying something.  Okay, three reasons.  There’s just something irresistable about a little four-inch square book.

Some of these 98 things I have already accomplished:

– go a month without shaving your legs  (only a month? hahaha….I am SO past that it isn’t even funny)

– invent a punch that will raise eyebrows and lower inhibitions (come to my house for Christmas.  You will not leave sober.)

– serve something flambe (YES!  I really did do that once!  No buildings burned down!)

– sing to a child.  (Even though it’s not ALWAYS appreciated.) (Rockabye Baby used to make my daughter sob…..”Don’t song mommy!”)

– tell Richard Simmons to just shut up and sit down ( not face to face but via the t.v., which is the next best thing)

These are the ones I really think would be worth trying:

– paint a mural of your imagined past lives (it would have to be a damned big piece of paper)

– teach someone, besides a child, to read

– be someone’s fairy godmother.  Wand optional.

– write an unauthorized biography of your family, including embarrassing photos, a tribute to the infamous black sheep, and favourite recipes.  (Except for the recipes, I could do that!)

– burn a cd with music you want played at your funeral:  baffle generations to come by including the rap song “I Like Big Butts”. (Sadly, I fear no one in my family would find that strange.)

– cry in the rain (If you have to cry, that would be the perfect place for it.)

– remember life is too short for ironing, non fat dairy creamer and regret of any kind.

– don’t indulge in one judgemental thought for an entire day.  Okay, an hour.  (Sigh)

– write three haiku poems about your most amazing, horrible and baffling sexual experiences and frame them for your boudoir.  (OMG.  If I can just keep the hysterical laughter under control for a sufficient length of time I’m sure there are great rewards to be reaped from such an endeavor.)

There is no way in hell I’d ever attempt any of these:

–  stay in a convent for a week.  (What in the world for?  Would it be a test for me, or for them?)

– ride a motorcycle alone across the Nevada desert.  (WHY?  No good could possibly come of it.  Unless someone is trying to kill me.)

– learn to belly dance and integrate it into your lovemaking.  (Okay, this lady does not know my husband.  He already thinks I’m crazy – why add to his arsenal of proof?)

– design a picnic around aphrodisiacs – raw oysters, champagne, rose petal jam on chocolate fingers – then whisper in another’s ear the sensual images that passing clouds suggest.  (See the belly dancing comment above.  He would have me committed.)

And finally, these are all do-able and sound like harmless fun!

Explore your inner pagan by creating your own seasonal rituals:

– at the spring equinox, detox with a juice fast, sauna, and deep muscle massage

– at the summer solstice, hire a manicurist to give pedicures to you and four friends while your pampered klatch sips mint juleps

– at the fall equinox, organize a black clad beatnik poetry reading with the themes of rain, dissolution, and romance

– at the winter solstice, plant a circle of globed candles in a snowdrift and make wishes every night until they burn out

What a great little book!  It also suggests you write an autobiography about the life you didn’t choose.  Gah.  I’m having trouble writing about the one I did choose, complete with my own 98 things I felt were important enough to do in my lifetime.  It’s just fun to see things from a new perspective.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out to buy some castanets, and then I’m going to practice telepathy with my cat.