I spent the weekend in Vail with some friends. For the most part, we had a super fun time hiking, eating, drinking, puffing, and flirting with the Tough Mudder graduates. It was a chatty group. One member of the gang in particular was hooked on the phrase “bucket list.” Whenever we saw or discussed anything half-way interesting she dorkily declared, “That’s on my bucket list!” Each time she repeated the overused cliché I wanted to burst into flames. First, that geriatric-flavored movie came out nearly 7 years ago. Second, what is the compulsive need to reference death? Death is really a downer on girls weekend. Third, when you say you want to do something, it automatically implies you want to do it before you die. Presumably we can only do things when we are alive, right? So do we need to constantly explicate that we want to do things before we die? Obviously, you want to do whatever it is before you die or you wouldn’t be able to do it, so save me the trite tautology. Because it is a stupid bummer of an expression, can we please collectively agree to a moratorium on the bucket list?
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