Regretting the End of the World: Part 2

Time to finish up my last six regrets should the world end. I originally meant this to be about the words, but it’s all about the cat pictures. Who knew there were so many apocalyptic kittens on Google? I didn’t.

Munch-Edvard-The-Scream1893-cat-w

The Scream kitten makes me so happy!

Hokusai-Great_Wave_off_Kanagawa-cat-end

GAH!

31116590

 

3s8tty

 

lolcat, ceiling cat, end of the world, funny

 

Okay, I think I’m done now. That’s all I can find…so far. On to my regrets.

7. Never visiting Egypt and being an adventurer. 

I have said to many people that the greatest injustice of my life is that I was born way too late. I should have been born in 1911 into a family of wealthy, adventurous, English aristocrats. I should have been a young lord, always dandied out in well-cut suits, hanging out with Oscar Wilde for half the year before joining my family in Egypt for our latest archaeological dig. We would be hilarious and charming and people would always be trying to murder us if we weren’t too busy uncovering some amazing discovery. (My life basically should have been the Amelia Peabody series.) Alas, that didn’t happen. I was born in the late 80s in the middle of a landlocked state without any interesting archaeological ruins that I’m aware of. There is no adventure to be had here. What kind of trouble can you get into going to Des Moines? I take that back, Des Moines can be scary! Don’t go off walking on your own into the ghetto when you’re well dressed. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know. I do now. That’s not the kind of adventure I was thinking of, though. I dream of romantically riding in a camel caravan across the Sahara, chasing Biblical records across the Middle East, excavating the tomb of Emperor Chin in China, or doing something or other with ancient Druid mysteries in the United Kingdom. I’d have a dashing assistant, a sassy sidekick, and a trusty cat. People would write books about us that would be mislabeled as fiction. There aren’t many opportunities for adventure these days, everything is just a tour group. Le sigh… And so, even if I can’t be an adventurous explorer, I can still tour Egypt. It’s a great crime to my psyche that I haven’t visited Egypt–the homeland of my soul. I need to go. I need to go now. I found an amazing bed and breakfast in Cairo that looks out onto the Sphinx. I’d go exploring the Khan el-Khalili and run away from fictitious tomb robbers who were hellbent on murdering me, so I’d drape myself in a galabeya, smear my face with dirt, and hide myself in the souk behind a brass table. Oh, how happy I’d be! Never mind that the whole thing took place in my mind and passersby would surely think me insane. So, if the world were ending, I would sincerely regret never having been to Egypt and surviving an attempted assassination.

8. Never having restored an old brick building.

Ever since last year, when I was on the verge of becoming the owner of a wonderfully dilapidated brick home, I’ve been obsessed with bricks. It should have worked out and tonight, I should be walking home from work to my brick house and do a bit of remodeling. Maybe I’d be painting a wall or building a frame or laying the marble checkerboard tile in the beautiful entryway or realigning the thick, heavy panel doors. I’d make dinner in my makeshift kitchen and read by firelight and everything would be perfect. But no, those bitches had to come piss on my parade. Whatever. They’ll ruin themselves financially soon enough, I’m sure, and it’s definitely deserved. Then, I was in the process of acquiring what would have been the largest apartment in this city, but my family interfered. I’m not sure that the person who crushed this dream realized exactly what they did to me, but I will never forget or forgive. Never. It was going to be glorious, but alas, not to be. This place is still for sale, so maybe somehow I’ll possess it someday. I can hope. I have the majority of it designed in my mind already. There’s a glorious sitting room, an intimate home theater, a cozy library, a formal dining room and a tea/breakfast room! Le sigh… I don’t want to live in Perry forever, but it is home for now and I’ll always keep coming back, so it would be good to have a home base and a place to escape to. So, before the world erupts in flames, I want to have restored an old brick building or house and live grandly inside of it, happier than I ever could have dreamed.

9. Never having been a celebrity.

With Bey

I’m a Leo, and as such, I have an innate desire to be known and to be beloved by the populace. I can think of nothing more rewarding in all the world than to see an unflattering image of myself published in a magazine with the words “CLOSE TO DEATH! WEEKS TO LIVE! says acquaintance of the star.” I would clutch that magazine close to my heart and buy two more for my archives and for my scrapbook. I don’t really care what I become famous for–acting, singing, modeling, reality television, scandal of some sort, wild partier, anything at all. I don’t care if I’m infamous or famous, I just want fan mail and a dedicated fan site that posts pictures of my head poorly photoshopped on the body of porn stars. This happens. Believe me. If I don’t get on Cycle 20 of America’s Next Top Model, I will be really disappointed, but there will always be another cycle and I plan on having abs this next time. I can’t wait to be stalked by the paparazzi before screaming, “I NEED MY PRIVACY!” after calling them to let them know where I’ll be lunching and with which celebrity I’ll be lunching with and the details on my latest project and then half heartedly deny my sex tape. This will be one of my biggest regrets if the world ends. Even if for only fifteen minutes I am a celebrity, it’ll be worth it. I hope I can go on The Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson and Graham Norton and lunch with Martha Stewart before being seated at the VIP row next to Florence Welch at the Grand Palais for the latest Chanel show and have Karl kiss me on the cheek. Le sigh, life should be that way.

10. Never having been published.

Cover

I intended on being a wildly successful author by now, and if the world should split in half and fly into the sun, I think I’d be rather bitter that forgotten novels of my imagination weren’t being burnt up with me. I’d like to think that once I die, should I go before the apocalypse, that something I’ve created will linger on and live in a way after me. The pharaohs of ancient Egypt and many people in the past had the same philosophy: if your name lives on, so do you. Publishers aren’t going to come running after me, I know, so I need to get over my laziness and nervousness and start sending out the manuscript for Terrible Miss Margo. I know that there is a good chance it won’t be published, but Twilight was routinely turned down with reason. It sucks. If writing that nonsensical and bad can become a billion dollar empire, perhaps my little book stands a chance of being published, too? I’d like that. I will also not stand on artistic integrity and will make sure that the film rights are sold at a high price! Well, I’d better together to work on my second novel. Working title: Hôtel-Ker-Maria. I write a page each day. It’s a romance. Be excited for it. I want Marion Cotillard for the female lead.

11. Never having owned a menagerie of exotic animals.

All my life I have wanted a lion. Someday I will have one. Even if it’s a black market lion. It’s wrong, but…when it comes to lions, I just can’t follow the law. I think it would be marvelous to have one. I would cuddle with it every day and we’d be as close as could be. I’d take him for walks and we’d romp in the miniature Savannah I’d build for him. I wouldn’t be able to stop at lions, though, I need camels. I’ve always loved those weird, lumbering creatures. A lot of people think they’re gross, I think they’re adorable with their fuzzy little faces, pads on their feet, funny tails, and the hideous way they shed. I’d ride my camel all across the countryside. People would come from miles around to take a look at me on my camel. My collection would grow and grow. Red pandas are a must. I’d adopt the IKEA monkey, of course. I love those flying rodents–sugar gliders–and would have an entire room of them. I would never ever turn down an elephant or abused animals that need a home. They’ll make me broke, but I would love them. For the most part, I like animals more than people, they’re endlessly loving and fun and a delight. I’d be with my animals as the world ended, probably cuddled up with Budapest, my darling lion.

12. Never having worked for Martha Stewart. 

Along with Hillary Clinton and Karl Lagerfeld, Martha Stewart is one of my biggest role models. I am obsessed with everything about her. I love her life–ambitious youngster, to model:

to successful broker, to beyond successful caterer, to successful television personality and author, to convict, and after all that she still remains a bad ass business woman who is totally aware of what she’s doing and always doing it in style and class. I want that life. I need to work on getting it. I have long had a fantasy of being one of Martha Stewart’s closest friends and confidantes. I hope we would get along, but I think that we might get into a lot of competitive arguments because we’re so similar. I concede that she can do things better than me, she’s had a lot more experience with nearly every topic ever introduced in the history of the world. But, that does not intimidate me. I feel that I can be equally creative and clever and capable of anything. We’d have such fun. I think I’d look forward to visiting Skylands best, her home in Maine. It’s a gorgeous mansion built for the Ford’s in the early twentieth century and I am obsessed with everything about it. I love the laundry room and the windows and the gardens and the French sculpture lounging in the yard and the dining room table covered in books and the map room and the views of the Atlantic and the look and feel of the place. I want it for my own. I hope that we’re so close that it will be willed to me. A boy can dream. There aren’t many jobs that I want in my life and that’s a real problem–I’m happy to amuse myself with my hobbies in interests. If it were up to me and I had unlimited funds–I would spend my winters adventuring, I would spend the rest of my time, gardening, writing, remodeling, and experimenting with magnetic electricity. I’d have an exciting life. But, if I had to have a real everyday job, I can’t think of anything more delightful than working at the offices of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia. I don’t know what position I’d like, probably something in the test kitchens working with Lucinda and Thomas and Sarah. I once Facebook stalked the staff. It was creepy, I know, but good fun. I figured out who was friends with who and tried to find a weak link into the company (Facebook friends becoming real friends becoming invite to a MSLO event leading to a Martha meeting and a close friendship with her), but all their walls were private. I’m rambling now, but I do think I would have a ball working for Martha. There aren’t many occupations where you get to use your imagination all day long. If the world were suddenly hit by an asteroid and everything was burning up, I might not be thinking about exciting career ventures, but it would be a shame to have had a simple job all my life long,

Well, that’s that. The world didn’t end and I don’t think it will until the sun explodes in a couple billion years. But, it was good to think about the things that I might want to change about myself and my life. Will I do anything about it? Probably a little, but I’m a successful procrastinator, so, we’ll see.

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