If I told you what has transpired in the past three weeks you wouldn’t even believe me. I don’t even believe it. And since I’m in no mood to argue with you about the legitimacy of my ridiculous life, this blog will have nothing to do with what happened. Mmmmk?

I mention this only so that you can know I’m writing this post after a life-altering, sleep-deprived-stress-filled two weeks and you need to lower your expectations as of a paragraph ago. I mean, given the title, I’m pretty sure you’ve already turned on a Bravo marathon and busted out the nail clippers.

Welp. I don’t usually like to read because I’m a rebellious, unsophisticated punk. But I was scrolling through the pages of a blog, when I came across the “bucket list” tab and started to break out in hives. Lemme tell you something about bucket lists: I don’t like ’em. I don’t like ’em one bit. All the way from their beady little eyes to their unkempt toenails. Bucket lists = pressure. As if I really need ANOTHER reason to feel like a loser when I turn 30? I don’t need to add to the pile: looking at my “30 before 30” list and seeing that I’ve only done 1.5 things all year besides being a loser. Appeal factor? Zero.

I find it interesting to scroll through and see what magical things people have to cross off their lists. Like, for some reason, turning 40 isn’t going to suck anymore as long as you can say you’ve gone white water rafting or climbed the Andes. It’s a psychological game with yourself and spoiler alert: you’re going to lose. That’s just a lil something I picked up from CSI. What’s even weirder is how I can check a vast majority of things off most of those bucket lists, yet I don’t feel complete. Or accomplished. Or any better about my age. Bucket lists are clearly very relative. The creepy relative that makes me uncomfortable at Thanksgiving.

So I’ve decided to think smarter and not harder. I’ve devised my own bucket list of already completed things to give myself a sense of false accomplishment. And guess what? I’m feeling just phenomenal.

My bucket list:

1. Drive through a walled city on a mountainside in Tuscany, Italy. Get out to take pictures in the town square and realize I’ve just crashed a funeral that the whole town is attending. Check.

2. Climb a Mayan pyramid in Mexico while wearing flip flops and then wish I would have taken Jose’s word about the poorly pasteurized cheese enchiladas once I get to the top. Check.

3. Ride the world’s highest cable car and get stuck in a lightening storm, while suspended in a glass box over the mountains for two hours as I make another bucket list: survive only so I can break up with the guy that thought it was a good idea to ever take me on a cable car ride. Ever. Check.

4. Accidentally date a charming guy from London, who turned out to be not so much charming as much as he was a heroin addict. Check.

5. Walk into class and have my 3rd grade teacher whisper that I’ve tucked toilet paper AND my skirt into the back of my tights. Check.

6. Gain 5 lbs because Wendy’s keeps pulling fast ones by adding “all natural” and “sea salt” to their french fry billboards. Check.

7. See the Eiffel Tower at night (except I never really wanted to do this). And at sunrise (except I never really wanted to see anything at sunrise).Check.

8. In high school, discover that I have one giant ear and one regular ear and when I tell my parents the disastrous news, they laugh in my face saying, “We were wondering when you were going to notice that!” Check.

9. Spend a month trying and failing to teach Mexican natives how to pronounce the letter “W” while I video tape them so I can laugh for years to come. Check.

11.Discover my purse missing after leaving the Moulin Rouge. Become the Bambi of Paris, wandering the red light district with no money or knowledge of the French language. Proceed to take out all of my frustrations on the country of France til the end of time, amen. Check.

12. Lose all my best friends to myth that is “like, totally awesome” California life. Check.

13. Call my dad over to my condo in the middle of the night to kill what I presume (and announce on Facebook) to be a cockroach, but really it turns out to be just an over-sized waterbug. Check.

14. Protest California for stealing all my friends. And Hollister, except not really, because their hoodies are too soft. And they’re currently on clearance. Check.

15. Protest China. Just because. Check.

Sigh. Well. I sure feel better. I think you should do. Just by osmosis.

And no, I never saw the movie.

{Disclaimer: I think it’s great to set goals for yourself blah blah blah. You’re just a better person than I am and I cant handle the self-inflicted pressure.}

I have returned to blogging over at Celery and the City where I write about clean eating, healthy living and post allergy and gluten free recipes!