For my third and final wish, I demand of you, genie, the following:
A book containing every imaginable statistic of my life, constantly updated, and offering various analyses and breakdowns and graphs of the data. Preferably a small book that I could carry around, and with a tasteful cover design—blank leather would be nice, maybe with a little gold tooling on the spine.
I'll leave the details up to you, el genio, but I imagine it would work well if I could just state clearly to the book what information I wished to see—number of breaths taken on a certain day, total number of heartbeats up to the present, number of times I've used the word "shoelaces," etc.—and then I would open the book and find the desired information there. It would be nice if the book could just read my mind ('twould save some embarrassment not to have to speak aloud, say, on an overnight train ride, when I'm likely to while away the hours perusing my own facts1), but I'll understand if you're busy or tired. You've worked hard. Oh, and also, it would be cool if the book kind of had a mind of its own, enough to offer extra stats or graphs or analyses related to what I ask for but that I probably wouldn't think to think of on my own.
Doesn't this lamp match my blog's décor nicely?
(Sorry, Google Readers. You lame.)
Well, them's my three wishes. I want to remind you that I am completely serious about this. I've thought about it for a long long time, and these are what I'd really really wish for.
And now, in keeping with the title of this post, I'd like to bequeath my belovéd lamp to Dave, my roommate and boon companion. Let him wish for good things, and let him decide for himself whether to wish the genie free or pass him on (I vote for passing it on).
I want my ashes scattered on the moon, except for my heart. That I leave to Texas, literally.
1 What the hell am I doing on a train? I can transport! (Pardon my French, SVP.)
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Final Wishes
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6 comments:
Very impressive. We are so different. I'm pretty sure my wishes are much much more shallow. Like, being able to eat everything I want while my health and body remain in stellar shape. Or being able to absorb the talents and skills of anyone I touch (they get to retain the talent, I just get to do it, too). Or dropping my 31 year old self into my 5 year old body and reliving with all the knowledge I have now. I'd be a prodigy. I'd establish amazing habits. I'd have tons of money because I'd manage it so well. I'd get through high school without wasting time on boys. Etc. The biggest one is being able to live a daydream with no consequences. For example, when I am laying on the couch imagining that I am the sole person on an incredible beach in Mexico, with tons of great food and books... I'd really live it without my children being neglected or getting sunburned. You can see the moral and ethical conflicts in this one, I'm sure. I try to convince myself my daydreams would remain frivolous, but we're all human. Killing the postman would eventually enter my thoughts.
I think I'd rather have a magical book that narrated and illustrated my life in an entertaining and accurate way so that I would have a concrete account of all my life experiences and when I needed to go back and figure out how on earth I got into some ridiculous incident, I could go back and remember and see old friends how they used to be and look like and get a semi-honest depiction of what really happened the summer of '95, etc. Pictures and dialogue...etc. But the book would magically be quite normal-sized and the memories would appear when I needed them. Wait, I think J.K. Rowling already came up with this one. Well, I want what Dumbledore had then. That's what I'd want.
I'm no longer commenting on your blog until you comment on mine.
I can't believe you have spent that much of your energy thinking about something that could never happen. I'm impressed. I wonder if my life would be different if I allowed myself to dream more. Nobody answer that.
You want your ashes scattered on the moon? I want mine shot into space, except I don't want to be creamated, I want my whole frozen body to be shot into space. And I want to be posed like I am waving. Then when the astronauts fly by I can welcome them to space. p.s. did you get my message? I am going skydiving!!!
I always kinda wanted the book thing too, but instead of a book I want to see the stuff in piles. For example, how many raisinettes have I eaten so far? Can you imagine what that would look like? Or, how much water have I drank (drunk? drinken?)? Or, how many slices of CiCi's pizza?
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