Tag Archives: romance

The Bucket List

Everyone has one, whether it’s written down or not.  That list of things you want to do, before you’re 30, 40, 50, 60.  Before you die.  Visit Paris.  Go skinny dipping. Sing karaoke.  Be a contestant on The Price Is Right.  We are so focused on living a life worth living that I think sometimes we don’t realize how much we’ve already done.

Personally, I want to do everything.  If I actually put everything I want to do on a list, I’d realize I couldn’t possibly do it all.  All the places I want to go, things I want to see and do – narrowing it down seems counter-intuitive to the entire idea.

Doesn’t mean I haven’t done it.

And some of it is kind of silly.

Take, for example, this item on my list:  Kiss under the fireworks.

Spectacular Kiss

Image by Lars Preben Sørsdahl via Flickr

At 35, I’ve never been kissed under fireworks.  I don’t know why it appeals to me so much, but it does.  Every time a holiday featuring fireworks comes around, I think about it.  I guess because I think of it as being so romantic.

Silly, right?

Last year, I went to see fireworks with Sly.  It was our 3rd date, and we had yet to kiss.  I had pretty much decided that I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him, but I thought this would be a chance to get my fireworks kiss.

But was it worth it?  Would that be selling out?  Would my Bucket List moment be memorable only because it shouldn’t be?  Like losing your virginity and wishing you could take it back?  In the end, the kiss didn’t happen.

Fast forward a year.  I’m with a wonderful man, who will grant damn near my every wish, including watching fireworks even though he couldn’t care less.  This weekend, with a fireworks show every night for four straight nights, we had our choice of shows.

Friday, we were both exhausted and decided to veg for the night.  Saturday we ran errands (mine) all day, got back to his place, and crashed.  Sunday we were on the boat all day, and we were beat.  All three nights we were asleep by 10pm.  Oh, yeah, we’re big partiers.

So Monday, we decided to go out to the Whitewater Center.  We did a flatwater kayak, then went to the car to get our clothes to change. The plan was, change, put our names in to eat, walk around a bit, eat, walk around a bit more, sit down have a beer, and watch fireworks.  But a storm was rolling in, so we decided to wait it out in the car prior to changing.

An hour and a half later, it was still raining, and we gave up and went home.

So once again, no kiss under fireworks.  And yes, I was disappointed.  And the truth is, I could have had it last night if I really pushed it.  He would have stayed, because I wanted to.  But at what point are you pushing too hard to make something that should happen naturally happen?

This man is amazing.  I don’t need kisses under fireworks.

But yes, I still want them.

What silly item is on your bucket list?

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I want my own adventure

I saw this postcard on postsecret last Sunday, and of course it stood out.  Anything air travel related stands out to me.  But it didn’t really speak to me at the time, so I kept on scrolling through.

But the more I thought about it, the more it does speak to me, but not in the way it’s meant, I’m sure.

You see, over the last two or three weeks, I’ve been thinking.  It all started with my solo trip to the beach in April, and how wonderful it was, just me and the waves.  And I decided that I was going to go to the beach every year for my birthday, not necessarily alone, but I would definitely try to go alone.  My friend mentioned Belize, and when I looked it up, I couldn’t believe how cheap it was (as long as I didn’t mind not having a suite). 

So I decided on Belize, next April, sometime around my birthday.

I’ve always been against traveling alone, for several reasons.  It really has nothing to do with me not wanting to be alone.  I don’t mind being alone.  Part of it was a safety issue – a single, not-unattractive woman, traveling alone in a foreign country, possibly (probably) unable to speak the language, doesn’t seem especially safe.  I know other women have done it, but, I’ll admit, I was a little scared.  The other part of it is that I never seem to enjoy certain things as much as when there’s someone to share it with.  A beautiful view is wonderful, but when you can remember it with someone months, years later, that makes it even better, I think.  Part of travel is the funny and memorable stories that come out of it, and if you don’t have someone to share it with, it’s not quite as special.

But the thought of going to Belize by myself made me…happy.  Excited.  Calm and content.  And then I thought, where else do I want to go?  France.  Italy.  Greece.  Iceland.  Peru.  Turkey.  India.  Indonesia.  Egypt.  Germany.  And many, many more places. 

And, with only a few exceptions (India, Egypt, Turkey), I feel perfectly comfortable with the idea of traveling alone.

I’m done waiting for someone to travel with.  I’m done with my life on hold.

My plan right now is Belize in April, Cabo for whale watching in Q1 2012, Peru at the end of summer 2012, and France in Spring 2013.  Plus, I need to make it to Chicago and DC sometime in the next year or two. 

Anyway, to get back to the postcard.  I’m obviously no longer in a relationship with a pilot.  Being with The Pilot didn’t spark my desire for adventure any more than it was already sparked.

But what he put me through, the issues I’ve dealt with, the personal hell I’ve been through in the last seven months? 

Well, if this were my postcard, it might say, “Being with a pilot wasn’t a romantic adventure, but the rest of my life will be.”

Maybe that’s the life changer that came from that relationship.