The Masterplan

I will come full-frontal and tell you this: I make lists for everything. Well, at least I try to. Grocery lists, to-do lists, shopping lists, bill breakdowns; those are a must. About a month after my return to the blogging arena, I came up with a list of things I wanted talk about. I even coined cool (or so I think) titles to complement them, none of which ever came about.

A list of "Songs To Be Downloaded/Copied" also remains on my widget notepad to this day. My most recent endeavor was to prepare a list of books I wanted to read for my 3-month break from college and you know this is not happening because I promised myself to only buy used books online. A list of "Books To Be Bought On Amazon" would soon be drafted and--I'm almost certain--left untouched.

The irony is that I made a "Things I Would Never Do, Just Because" list that I seem to be checking off (or unchecking-off, depending on how you choose to perceive it) one-by-one. For your reference, the list:

1. Do anything to my hair (including perm, but especially color). CHECK (By perming).
   
2. Smoke (shisha or hookah not an exception). CHECK (Twice, on hookah).
   
3. Have more than one piercing. CHECK (Ear cartilage piercing, birthday treat to myself from myself)
4. Swim in a swimming pool with clothes (I believe in swimsuits for swimming pools). CHECK (I was doing well until yesterday, goddamit).
5. Vomit (self-induced or not).
6. Go on a diet.
7. Take painkillers.
   

To digress a little, yes, I have never puked in my 20 years of life. To go through life without puking is my aspiration, and we will have to wait 10 years down the road to see if morning sickness gets the best of me (I do plan to have kids, you know?). And god forbid I should ever have to go on a diet or take painkillers.

So there is a conundrum. I am itching to make a list, a list of "Adventurous Endeavors I Shall Partake In".

Before I die and utter the Kalimah Syahadah (InsyaAllah), I may want to go sky diving with a colorful parachute; take a jumping snapshot on the Y of the "Hollywood" at Hollywood; camwhore on a hot air balloon; drive a mini lorry; try bungee jumping, walk backwards on the Taman Negara Pahang suspension bridge; go skinny dipping (but wear a lifejacket since I'm afraid of deep waters) with my husband somewhere in the Caribbeans.

But once they are set in stone, written in black and white, typed on a screen, whatever it may be, I will not be able to attain them, won't I? Shall I make a non-list; a list that finds form in my thoughts and dreams, only to be coughed out once realized? For starters, here's one:

1. Rock-climbing. CHECK (Thanks to climbing enthusiast, Zyra. And to the Almighty that I am still in one piece despite my angst and "Takde tenagalah" screams on the way up)
2. Get dumped into the sea 6 times (no, 7, if you count the time when my wonderful friends leaned backwards, making us all vulnerable to the big, open Port Dickson sea) from a banana boat. CHECK (with a bruised left cheek and aching limbs to account for it)
3. Ride backwards on a banana boat and get dumped into the sea. CHECK (activity was carried out with screams that pierced the blue sky, most definitely).
4. Flying fox, abseiling, repelling. CHECK (achieved throughout my 10 years of schooling, but hope to be checked twice).
5. Bathe stark naked in the dark, with friends AND random acquaintances of the same gender, from a suspicious looking kolah. CHECK (Kem Terendak, Melaka was all military style; need I say more?)
   
6. Walk around naked in a dormitory bathroom. CHECK (I was after all, a victim of a friend's towel-hiding scheme).
7. Leave my brassiere (the common term sounds, well, too common) in a male friend's car and be forever scarred and humiliated. Sigh, CHECK.

Keep the adventures and misadventures coming, buddies! I have but one life to live and we all know that life's row boat should go merrily up the stream. "Bare" with me here, ha ha.