There’s been a few curveballs lately.

And I’ve been thinking…

What would I actually want to go do if I knew the world was about to end?

I use to have an answer for this. It was a simple one.

But things change.

So what would I do now?

I might start a small business overcharging “asteroid collision” to people. “Red Giant heat” insurance. “Comet flare” insurance.

heh. (Apparently I assume something cosmic will take out our planet.)

There are lot of things I’d want to go see. (Aside from everything!!)

Rome, for one. I’d really love to see Rome.

I’d want to drive the entire Route 66 to see exactly the places it ran through for myself.

I’d like to get rocked hardcore by a wave in Australia. So hard that the pain numbs my body for hours.

I’d want to go snowboarding in Utah. (Well… learn, and then attempt, and hopefully not fall down too much.)

I’d want to go back to Scotland and take a boat out on Loch Ness for a day and look for Nessie.

I’d want to go back to Ireland.

I’d drive the three hours to go get a Coldbuster Jabba Juice. (And maybe go hunt for Yogurtland in NYC. I love yogurt.)

I’d take out a loan I could never pay off on a completely grossly over priced house on Huntington Beach. And then I’d spend every morning watching the sun raise and every night watching the sun set on that beach.

There is one person I can think of that I’d knock on his door and jump on him when he opened it. Regardless of what happened after that. (And I’d be really open to what happened after that actually. As long as it wasn’t along the lines of tossing me back out.)
I’d throw an End of the World party (with tons and tons of tequila), so I could have all my friends and family with me.


I’d want to go out knowing that I was always true to myself and the things I believe in. That I had no regrets.

As I wait on this phone call, I try not to worry. That everything is probably fine and that my impatience is just making me crazy.

And that it’s probably not the end of the world.

But what if it could be?