Playing in super soft Canary Island sand
I turned twenty five yesterday.
My grandfather gave me a birthday phone call and casually asked how my life to do list was going.
THANK GOODNESS I have another three years to complete the list. I take it very seriously despite all appearances. Thanks, Grandaddy, for inquiring after the list and holding me accountable :)
Here is the list. (I'm only 90% sure this is 100% accurate as I lost the original documentation.)
4. ride an elephant
5. swim with dolphins
6. volunteer at an orphanage
7. write a song
8. write a book
9. learn to sail
One, two, and three. Done.
Four, five, and six. Okay so, I'm not trying to be lazy, or a tree-hugging hipster, but I'm not sure these are very nice or ethical. I've decided I'm not going out of my way to do these things; I certainly won't pay to do them. But do I secretly hope that one day I'll dive off my sailboat into crystal blue sea and be suddenly surrounded by Flipper and his extended family? Yes.
*Ten. I don't know what I was thinking when I was eighteen. Maybe that I'd win the lottery by twenty one? I don't know. So I'm going to cheat. Melissa and I paid for our parents to stay in a nice Florentine B&B. So... check. Until I win the lottery. And I'm taking Melissa on a postgrad Caribbean cruise. So... double check.
Seven, eight, nine. Working on it.