The Bucket List.

No, not the movie with Jack Nicholson and God.  (What, you didn’t know? Morgan Freeman is God.  Go look it up.)


The past few weeks have been a tornado.  I’ve gone from merely being busy reading my books, to staring down three final presentations, four final papers (two exceeding 15 pages), and two final exams.  I told a friend of mine at work about all my happenings and she looked at me with an exclamation of “How are you alive?”


Surprisingly I’m in a good mood.  A great mood, even.  All of those presentations above? I managed to finagle it into our weeks where we discuss American and Irish plays.  I’ll be in my element.  Although I gotta be honest, The Beauty Queen of Leenane made me so happy I have a mother who is A) not insane and B) not corpulent.


A few people on Facebook have alluded to their own ‘bucket list’.  A friend of mine just ran her first marathon in Chicago on 10-10-10 and posted a picture of her with ice on her knees and her little completion medal.  Underneath she wrote “Cross that one off the bucket list!”


I realized while looking at that picture that I lack my own bucket list.  A compilation of outlandish things I wish to accomplish before I die.  A few short years ago, there were only two things on my bucket list: Get married, and win a Tony.  Well, I’d like to think my list has expanded exponentially.


The interesting thing about this list is I know I will accomplish a few of these within the next two years.  That thrills me to no end.

Without much ado, I’d like to present to you all…


The Alysa Auriemma Bucket List


Learn another language.  Write the next great fantasy series.  Bake a perfect chocolate souffle.  Laugh so hard a liquid I am drinking comes out of my nose.  Read every single book in the ‘1000 Books To Read Before You Die’ manual.  Do a yoga headstand.  Watch every Shakespeare adaptation ever put on film.  Complete 200 hours of yoga teacher training.  Set aside an entire day and watch the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy once a year.    Run a marathon.  See the Grand Canyon in person and not just from a plane.  Publish a book of poems.  Stand below Christ The Redeemer in Brazil.  Take ballet lessons.  Visit and pay respects in Auschwitz-Birkenau.  Lay a flower in Strawberry Fields.  Wear those Eskimo snowshoes that look like tennis rackets.  Earn my Master’s Degree in English.  Walk the hills of Ireland.  Visit where my father’s family came from in Montella.  Go to an Olympic Opening Ceremony.  Visit where my mother’s family came from in Scotland.  Teach my nephew to appreciate great works of literature, and also how to ice skate.  Play every single Shakespearean heroine.  Teach a class for an entire semester without having a heart attack.  Visit every continent.  Learn to sing “Glitter and Be Gay” without sounding like a dying cat being beaten to death with a banjo.  Wear an original Alexander McQueen dress. Meet Oprah. Get married in my parents’ backyard.  Grow my hair down to my butt.  Shave my head.  See Lady GaGa in concert again.  Watch the bullrunners in Pamplona.  Go on a cruise.  Stay overnight in every state in the union and Puerto Rico.  Fall in a crazy love as deeply as my sister and mom did with my brother-in-law and my dad.  


This is definitely going to be added to as I find more things to try and accomplish.  One thing you will never, ever see on my bucket list? Skydiving.  I’m sorry, but I find publishing a book of poetry just as thrilling as falling ass backwards out of a plane, hurtling toward the unforgiving solid ground and praying to any deity listening that my ripcord opens.  I can think of better ways to spend my Saturdays…

ally

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