I have been working on a bucket list since long before my cancer diagnosis and, I imagine like all cancer patients, decided I had better get serious about the thing. What follows is a work in progress. The items that are crossed off were not realized, but simply thought better of since it is apparent I will, in fact, live.

Get a tattoo before I turn 50  (I still have 2 months, get off my back)

Last 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu (that’s a stupid song anyway)

Get a red mustang convertible.  (I didn’t really want one that badly until my husband bought himself a sporty little BMW this summer. Someone clearly lost sight of who has cancer in this family.  Yeah, yeah, he says I can drive it whenever I want but he always checks when he gets home to see if I did.  I caught him chalking the tires the other night)

Have more patience.  (a work in progress)

Get published (does this count?)

Get arrested See above.  I figure a good writer has to have something interesting to write about.  I hadn’t worked out the details of my arrest, but I know it would involve much hilarity (and liquor). I bet at least one of my cousins (Ann :)) would have taken one for the team and joined me.

Become a grandmother. (Kids?  I can’t do this myself)

Travel more.

Clearly the list needs work, but I’m in no hurry to finish it.   The only thing my bucket is going to be used for this next week is ice to chill the champagne.