50 things to do in the near to not-so-distant future (let's say within ten years)

This post is courtesy of my friend Mary, who posted her list with an open request that we follow suit. I'm posting mine here because 1) I'm selfish and want it for my own blog; and 2) I tend to publish really long comments in other people's blogs and have begun to feel silly about it.

There are a ton of things I have done, even a bunch that are popular items on "things to do" lists: I've become a parent, married, hand-fed dolphins, seen a Shakespearean play at a theater where I had to dress fancy and felt the "theatre" spelling was totally appropriate, met Walter Cronkite and Tom Brokaw in the same evening, watched the sun set countless evenings from countless locales, read several classic novels, been to both the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, climbed a mountain (several times, and got lost one of them), volunteered, gone horseback riding, slept under the stars, visited several museums and art galleries. There are also a few other "experiences" which shall remain nameless here, owing to the mixed-company readership of this blog. (Don't worry, Mom. Nothing too mortifying.)

There are also several things that by definition can't be on this list, owing to the nature of reality or my fantastic ineptitude -- things I can never do: Perform any kind of dancing, see a World Series with my father, meet Madeline L'Engle, play any sort of professional sport, sing, be a perfect housekeeper.

So, without further ado, here's a list of fifty things I haven't done, but can see myself accomplishing:

1. Take up a martial art, and mean it this time.
2. Go on the honeymoon we never took.
3. Nurture David's animal mania. Volunteer together somewhere that rehabilitates or rescues animals.
4. Adopt a dog.
5. Get scuba certified.
6. Hang glide.
7. Have an article published in National Geographic.
8. Be important enough to be on the other end of a big-time interview.
9. Speak fluent, not just passable, Spanish.
10. Learn how to play at least one instrument well.
11. Continue to improve my writing, so that five years from now, I feel about today's writing like I feel today about my five-years-ago writing.
12. Publish a book.
13. Stop being pathologically self-conscious. (Regular self-consciousness is plenty.)
14. Have another kid or two. Or don't. Either way, continue to realize how incredibly privileged I am, and how perpetually perfect (though far from flawless) our family is.
15. Travel outside North America. (15b: Convince Aaron to travel outside North America.)
    
16. Run a marathon.
17. Buy a house.
18. Buy a better car. Take really good care of it this time.
19. Learn all the major constellations by season. Teach David.
20. Get better at using my telescope; learn to take non-lousy astrophotos.
21. Learn to drive a manual transmission.
22. Learn to wakeboard capably, without wiping out before I'm fully up and having my nails ripped from their nail beds by the rope handle.
23. Teach David all the cool little things I know, or at least all the things that excite him: origami, how to safely catch and release any of a hundred different kinds of critters, how to build a sand castle that stays up, the bajillion different versions of poker that my father taught me.
24. Become more involved in my son's school activities. (While still avoiding becoming THAT parent.)
25. Write that piece on Dad, religion and baseball that's been knocking around in my head, and actually publish it somewhere.
26. Get an article and photos published in a quality magazine. That pays.
27. See whales in the wild. Take at least two great photos of them, then put away the camera and savor the experience.
28. Dive with whale sharks and manta rays. Also, see great whites from a diving cage.
29. Take my husband and son down the Grand Canyon for a trip that's at least partially as awesome as I remember it. Take a zillion pictures of the falls. Watch David swim in the falls, right where I did as a kid.
30. Write some poetry again, except don't suck at it this time.
31. Teach David how to tie his shoelaces properly, even if none of the shoes they make have laces anymore.
32. Grow my own tomatoes.
33. Tell, and more importantly show, the people in my life that I love them, and do it way more often than I do now.
34. Do those photo collections I have in mind, if for no other reason than to please myself.
35. Be brave enough to really surprise my husband. Preferably, make it a pleasant surprise.
36. Give yoga a try.
37. See the Northern Lights.
38. Travel somewhere completely foreign in every sense of the word, and truly live like the locals.
39. Vacation in Hawaii.
40. Explore a rain forest.
41. Teach college writing.
42. Be able to handle: Basic car maintenance (beyond just the battery and spare tire), saying no when I mean no, in-depth conversations on the economy, deadlines, intimacy.
43. Fix and actually develop my defunct website. Also, come up with a better title for my blog.
    
44. Look into my son's eyes; see myself, my husband, my parents, and the totally individual being he is all rolled up together; and bask in it.
45. Horse around with my husband and son when they ask me to. Even if I don't feel like it at first. (Remember that I really love it after, like, a nanosecond. And that they don't care if my ass looks ten kinds of fat as we roll around on the bed.)
46. Get to really know someone who is so different than me in life outlook or circumstances that I cannot now imagine wanting to know them.
47. Read all the books on my to-be-read list. Or all the ones that are currently on my list, at any rate. I'll have added just as many more by then.
48. Spend more time with my mother out in nature.
49. Become competent at managing my own time.
    
50. Stop second-guessing myself. Start now, by posting this list without going back over it to see how eloquent my goals sound.