I would rather pull out all my eyelashes than…

  1. Do a DIY craft project.
  2. Watch another reality TV show about rich, stupid people.
  3. Listen to someone express his or her undying adoration for the genius of Ayn Rand.
  4. Wear shorts.
  5. Watch the Food Network. Or any cooking show, for that matter.
  6. Iron my clothes.
  7. Listen to people talk about what they would have done differently in a pro sporting event.
  8. Pull hair out of the shower drain. (Thanks, Guion!)
  9. Go to the gym.
  10. Watch broadcast TV news.
  11. Sew anything.
  12. Take seriously any of the NRA’s policy recommendations.
  13. Listen to Mumford & Sons.
  14. “Play” in the snow.
  15. Run.

A small sampling of things I cannot do

Click for source.

Lent is all about reflection and about how we’re pretty much down in the dumps when we’re sans Savior. In accordance with that, here’s my seriously truncated list of things I cannot do.

I can’t:

  • Throw a football.
  • Do math above a fifth-grade level. (Probably. I haven’t tried. The only math I do on a regular basis is calculate tips, and sometimes I don’t even do that accurately.)
  • Eat chocolate without melting some portion of it into my clothes. Chocolate is really hard to get out of most fabric, kids. You’ve been warned.
  • Read anything, anywhere without looking for grammatical or punctuation errors.
  • Take politicians seriously.
  • Touch my toes. (Have you seen how long my legs are? I protest! They are too long!)
  • Dance.
  • Wear cable-knit sweaters. (But, really, who can? Welsh or Irish farmers may be the only ones.)
  • Pass a dog without wanting to pet it.
  • Watch war movies. See also: Talk about war movies.
  • Drive a manual transmission car. We got a 10-minute lesson from a car salesman in August, but I felt like we were all going to die in a jerky, fiery blaze the whole time I was behind the wheel and on the clutch.
  • Read music.
  • Watch golf for more than three minutes without crying out from desperate, desperate boredom.
  • Skateboard. Not that I’ve ever tried. Or have any desire to try. It is easily the most stressful form of transportation to observe.
  • Watch FOX News without my blood pressure spiking significantly.
  • Enjoy a trip to the mall.
  • Make crafts.
  • Hide my emotions from my face.
  • Open wine bottles without seriously messing up or losing the cork.
  • Let my feet touch the bottom of a slimy lake or river without wanting to vomit. I can walk barefoot on rocks in a stream all day long, but please, please don’t ask me to put them in the green slime. See: Trip to Rivanna swimming hole, circa summer 2010, in which I bailed and sat on a log near the very pregnant and beautiful Cate.
  • Kill animals or watch animals being killed. See also: Kill people or watch people being killed.
  • Tell a joke without making an allusion to Liz Lemon or a member of the Bluth family.

And these are just a FEW of them! I can’t do so many things. Lenten conclusion? Jesus is OK with this list.

Reverse bucket list

Or carry a dog AS a purse... Really. This looks stupid AND cruel. Click for source.

Inspired by this post, here is my list of things I never want to do before I die:

  1. Own a minivan.
  2. Have a dog so small I could carry it in my purse.
  3. Live in Florida, South Carolina, or New York City.
  4. Wear velour sweatpants with a sassy statement on the butt in rhinestones.
  5. Make crafts involving doilies.
  6. Get a tattoo.
  7. Teach for America.
  8. Collect “knicknacks,” whatever they may be.
  9. Get cable.
  10. Dance on a stage.
  11. Kill an animal for sport.
  12. Go to a tanning salon.

How about you?