Everyone is losing their minds about the Mayan calendar ending. We're talking about the same people who could barely use a wheel and couldn't foresee the fall of their own civilization, but we've convinced ourselves that they predicted doomsday eleventy billion years in the future.
Personally, I think the guy making the calendar was probably a little bit like me and got started on a Pinterest project and just got distracted by the dinosaurs and apes and went out to play and forgot to finish it. He came back and was like, "Okay, I'll do this tomorrow" and put the calendar in his closet and just sort of forgot about it.
And now we're all in a tizzy about the prehistoric Tyler.
However, in honor of those silly Mayans, I'm doing an It's Okay ... Doomsday Edition.
(clarification: I most certainly do not think time runs out tomorrow. But it sure makes for a good post)
It's Okay ...
... that I never got married. I would have assigned Whitney, Sami, Brooke, Helene, Meighan and Neely these perfect Disney bridesmaids dresses, though.
Now, who's arguing over Mulan?
... that I'll never find out who Ted ends up with.
No, it's really not.
... that for Blond John's last birthday, we were back home watching Damages by 8:00. In our defense, we were full as little ticks. Crab cakes do that.
... that I'll never see my goal weight of ten pounds, two ounces. BOO.
And I'll never look like Daisy Duke.
Not sure that I would have anyway, but at the end of time, I can pretend that I would have.
... that I never got to have cocktails with either of these guys:
I would have gotten tipsy and handsy and clowned out anyway.
... that I never got to go to Space Camp.
... that I've only made like, two Pinterest things out of the 13,853 that I've posted.
... that my bucket list was never fully realized. I may not have taken a helicopter ride over the Vegas strip, but I almost got hit by a street sweeper outside a bar watching the sun rise on Bourbon Street. Does that count?
... that I never got to meet my favey blogtwin bridesmaids. We'll just have a baller party in the afterlife. I know a few people who can bring the boxed wine. I'll just bring the fat kid food.
Calories don't count in Heaven, guys. I read that somewhere.