no, thank you

 the anti-bucket list
note: this article originally appeared on this website on June 1st.

What’s on your bucket list? The things you want to do before you die? I’d tell you what’s on my bucket list, but it’s the usual things. Travel. Love. Write. Live fully.

Now, what’s on my anti-bucket list? The things I never, ever want to do?

That’s the more interesting story.

Here’s my anti-bucket list of “never will I ever”:

Watching sports on TV.

I hate sports on the most basic, reactionary level. Don’t care, won’t care, can’t care. And for so many reasons: the general clock, which seems to stop for reasons I can’t quite identify. The concept of a TV timeout. The announcer’s endless talking talking talking in a monotone voice about someone I don’t know, doing something I don’t care about. No, thank you. Not doing it, anymore.

 

Hang out with people who don’t want to hang out with me.

I get it. Life happens. But the no-shows, can’t go, didn’t go, didn’t-call-or-show-up-but-still-gets-mad-if you-go-anyway flakiness? Not putting up with it. I’ll see you when I see you. Probably not, though.

 

Let someone else tell me who I am.

Allowing myself to be seen through someone else’s eyes is tantamount to paralysis. I decided to stop caring what other people think. Just because someone doesn’t see me on the path I’ve chosen for myself doesn’t mean I’m lost.

 

Or, pretend to be someone else.

I’m not the sequin tank top and micro mini girl. Absolutely no judgements if you are. I spent an awfully long time trying to be someone I wasn’t. Wearing novelty prints and high heels, when I’m really more of a tomboy. I don’t dress like that anymore. I dress like me, more. That look fits me like a glove.

 

Stoop to someone else’s level.

We’ve all done it. You have a few innocent questions to ask a friend (or enemy). He responds in a particularly nasty manner. You respond in kind. And, bam! Drama. How to be nice when someone is mean? I take a deep, deep breath. Tell him to fold it in five corners, and stick it where the sun won’t shine. Nicely. Then walk away. And say nothing else.

That’s on my anti-bucket list. What’s on yours?