The Bucket List

I know it's a cliché to have a "bucket list" these days, but I do. Even though I'm only 36 and I don't plan on kicking that proverbial bucket any time soon. Maybe other people have bucket lists to somehow put off dying -- "I can't leave this Earth until I finish War and Peace in the original Russian" -- but I like to think of my personal bucket list as a way to get to living.

My list is very meta, in the way that it's a clichéd list that is itself a cliché, but still and all, I have one, and the things on are things that I have always wanted to do: See a game in every major league ballpark (yes, even Yankee Stadium). See the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Pyramids, Big Ben and Parliament, the Great Wall of China. Take a cruise. Visit every one of the United States. Learn to surf. Catch my own lobster and eat it for dinner. Finally get around to intentionally making a flaming dessert. Ride a camel. Meet a President of the United States. See Cher in concert. Go up in a hot air balloon.

Make that: ride in a hot air balloon AGAIN, because at Palmer Community Days, I got to take a little ride in a hot air balloon, and even though we just went straight up and back down, even though the whole thing only took about 3 minutes, even though the weather was gross and the skies were gray and there were five of us cramped in that little basket, IT WAS AWESOME, and I can't wait to have another chance.

It was something I wanted to do with Shae, because I knew the balloon people were going to be there, but while my My Anonymous Mother saved our place in line, they managed to talk her into coming too. I don't know how I convinced G to come along -- I think I might have just asked him. He didn't take much cajoling. I think that he was slightly disappointed, but he won't ever say anything, because he knows it was important to me. I mentioned something about someday going to Albuquerque for the Balloon Fiesta, and he seemed like he was on board. (Added bonus: I would then be able to cross New Mexico off the list of states I have visited!)

I know all of this makes me sound like a giant dorko -- "OMG I went up in a giant balloon and didn't die squee!" -- but this is kind of a big deal to me. I was nervous about it. I don't like heights. You saw what happened on the ferris wheel. If I never go on another ferris wheel again as long as I live, I will perfectly happy. But I want to go for another hot air balloon ride. This is progress, as far as I am concerned.

My Dad and my other brother-in-law and my sister stayed firmly on the ground, humming random songs from "The Wizard of Oz." (Daddy did, anyway -- he remembers the Man Behind The Curtain leaving Oz in a hot air balloon.) My sister would have thought it was kind of lame, but she has gone bungee jumping on purpose, and she said she'll be the one taking Shae on the Hoolahooper someday. Whatever. We all have our own worst fears. Mine are spiders and falling to my death. This baby step for her is HUGE for me.