End of the World To-Do List

So the world’s ending, on May 21st? Is that what’s going on?  Scary! If I died tomorrow, I think I’d be happy with what I’ve done in my life. I’ve had meaningful friendships and relationships, learned how to ride a unicycle, graduated from college, and voted for Barack Obama. One time I accidentally started a small but impassioned student revolution at my alma mater, and another time, I bought Amy Sedaris four grilled cheeses! (Long story.)

But there’s a lot that I haven’t done that I’d like to do. And time is running low. So, within the next few days, I must:

  • Pick oranges on a Kibbutz in Israel.
  • Drink vodka in St. Petersburg.
  • Have a picnic under the Eiffel Tower.
  • Figure out a really concise way of explaining to people what I can do with a master’s in Gender and Cultural Studies.
  • Have an incredibly pleasant and paranoia-free acid trip.
  • Become a notary. Look: apocalypse begins, people are gonna need to figure legal shit out. I’ll be in high demand, and won’t ever be alone!
  • Read Anna Karenina and maybe Ulysses, if I, ya know… feel like it.
  • Get a truly good night’s sleep.
  • Work as an historical actor at Colonial Williamsburg.
  • Be a participant on some panel titled something like “On Form and Syntax: Poets Talking about Poetry” and talk about enjambment with my hands gesticulating and my eyes partially closed.
  • See my trivia team, Matt Saracen’s LiveStrong Bracelet, go all the way.
  • Become an internationally feared art thief.
  • Learn to play the ukulele. Related: learn to spell ukulele correctly on the first go.
  • Get to use my family anecdote. (You see, my family has this story: one time my dad’s friend took her mom to go see Fiddler on the Roof, and after, she said “Ma, did it remind you of the old country?” And her mom said “Frankly, I don’t remember so much singing and dancing.” The only thing my family loves more than this story is talking about how there’s never a good opportunity to squeeze this little hyuk-hyuk into conversation. I will find a way! Holy cow, DID I JUST DO IT?!)
  • Stand in a wheat field wearing a peasant dress and holding a red balloon.
  • Write the next great American novel. Jonathan Franzen will fold up his glasses and sit back in his desk chair and be like “Well, fuck it, I guess” and never write again. The New York Times will write a glowing review that contains the phrases “answers the questions we are too afraid to ask aloud” and “language so delicate yet heartbreakingly powerful you’ll feel like a waifish ballerina punched you in the face.”
  • Say with utter gravitas to someone who’s wronged me “How. Daaare. You.”
  • Have a rundown but endearing little yellow cottage in Ithaca or Providence or somewhere “cute” and fill it with Quimper plates and Le Creuset pots and books and maps and armchairs and old cups of tea and have the neighborhood kids call me Mrs. Labell even though I’m unmarried and 22.
  • Orgasm vaginally. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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