In a nearby street, is a stobie pole that the community has claimed as their own. On it someone has written, numerous times down the length of the pole, – “Before I die I want…”. Passersby have written their responses in chalk. Time and time again, people have written different things in the spaces provided, like – I want to skydive naked or suck a dick or Stop Monsanto. Fleeting guerrilla affirmations. Simple brilliance.
It makes me think about my own life. Inspires me to reassess my aspirations. What do I want to do before I die?
Honestly, I feel I have so much living ahead of me that a blog post listing all my desires and dreams would be fruitless. Reams and reams of life goals. I will tell you one thing, I do not ever want to skydive naked. If I didn’t die of fright, I’d definitely die when my boobs suffocated me on the way down.
And here’s where it gets plain middle class mediocre. One thing that was on my to-do list was make cake pops. Yep, cake pops like Martha “fucking” Stewart. And you know what, I just went out and did it. Sounds really lame in the scheme of things, but when faced with challenges, aka “baking”, my natural instinct is to run. Anything remotely tricky, I avoid and dodge. If I can’t do it right, the first time, I never do it again. For me, making cake pops was just one of those activities I knew would be full of perils. It’s representative of my bigger life goal – to stop giving up. So, I set myself a challenge – make them. NO excuses.
SO I DID.
LIKE A BOSS.
Helps I had a machine to do most of the work and used a packet cake mix, but we won’t tell anyone that – will we?
I’m not sure what’s next on my list. How about you tell me the things you’d like to do before you die and then I can just rip off your ideas. OK? Deal.