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.