Wednesday, June 1
Bucket list.
I stand on the beach, watching the sun set over the ocean. I’ve never appreciated the various shades of pink, purple, and orange before. Truly, there is nothing like a California sunset.
A million thoughts run through my head, one of them being I only have six months of sunsets left.
I hate the C-word.
Cancer.
What I hate worse is the timeline. I am nineteen years old, and will never turn twenty. I will forever be a teenager.
And to think, this time yesterday, my biggest concern was if the barista used coconut milk instead of regular milk.
Just over a month ago, I became a vegan. I live in LA now. It’s a very California-thing to do. Plus, I watched this documentary online about how much healthier is to eat vegan food—then of course, they showed the animals being abused at the farms, though you can hardly call it a farm. Now, every time I see bacon, I hear the pig screaming while it bleeds out.
I moved to LA just over two months ago. Away from my hometown in Idaho. Away from my mom, dad, and older brother. After dropping out of college to focus on my vlog, I decided to spread my wings.
I’m kind of famous online. I vlog about fashion, makeup, beauty products, and whatever else I feel like when I turn on the camera. It seems silly now. I mean, I’ve dedicated my whole life, since I was fifteen, to a beauty vlog.
My phone alerts me with notifications. Everybody loves the video I posted early this morning. “How to dress for a first date.” I’m giving outfit advice for a first date and I’ve never even had a first date.
I am going to die without kissing a boy.
I cry.
Then I cry harder, realizing that I’m crying over something so trivial.
“Oh, my God!” a girl screams.
I wipe under my eyes and look over at her.
“Are you Juliet from Juliet’s Beauty on YouTube?” age asks.
I force myself to smile. “Yes, I am.”
She squeals and grabs my arm. “I am your biggest fan! I love you!”
“Want a selfie?” I ask.
I’ve met enough fans to know that they all want a selfie with me, and I’m not in the mood to chitchat. I don’t want to be rude, but I did just learn that I have cancer. Stage 4 cancer. I’m allowed to mourn for at least one day before I start planning for death.
I smile as she extends her arm. She snaps a couple of selfies and then says a quick thank you. She runs off towards an older couple—her parents, I assume.
The girl looks young, probably only twelve, or thirteen. She’s still got braces and her hair is in two braids. She has a huge smile as she talks excitedly to her parents, and I can tell that I made her day.
I make videos for girls like her, so that she can have confidence. Which is ironic; considering I have zero confidence when I am not in front of a camera.
Yes, let the world know that I, Juliet Summers, am a shy, awkward girl who has never been out on a date. Or kissed a guy. Or been anywhere besides Idaho and California.
Actually, there are a lot of firsts I haven’t experienced yet.
It’s then that I realize; I need a bucket list.
I decided against doing treatment. They couldn’t promise my life would be extended, but that I would be sicker if I did treatments. Instead, I want to live each and every day I have left like it’s my last. It very well could be.
I walk back to my car and drive to my apartment.
It’s small.
A studio apartment.
I have a bed, a love seat, a kitchen, and a small table where I eat breakfast. I have a camera set up in the corner with all my lighting equipment, and then my computer sits on my desk.
Getting an old fashioned piece of paper and pen, I push my computer out of the way and start my bucket list.
The day my life came to an end... well, really, it’s the day my life began. Because, right now, I am choosing to live.
BUCKET LIST
1. Kiss a boy.
For a moment, I am embarrassed that I wrote that as the number one item.
I contemplate writing down “get a tattoo,” but I don’t want my parents to freak out when they see it on my dead corpse.
Eh, maybe it’s too soon to be making dead jokes, even inside my head.
2. Go cliff jumping.
I almost mark it off, but I figure dying from jumping off a cliff sounds a lot cooler than dying from cancer. Imagine what my headstone would read. “Died from living life to the extreme.” Sounds good to me.
3. Go on a road trip.
4. Visit every state (excluding Hawaii and Alaska).
Yep. A road trip where I go to every single state in the US sounds fun.
5. Fall in love.
I immediately scratch that one off.
I am not going to let some poor boy fall in love with me, only to die a few months later. That’s cruel.
5. Sing karaoke in front of a huge crowd.
6. Go camping.
7. Learn to surf.
8. Go zip lining.
9. Swim in the Atlantic Ocean.
10. Dance in the rain.
11. Stand under a waterfall.
12. Go whale watching.
13. Watch my brother marry the girl of his dreams.
Number 13 is tricky.
My brother’s wedding is set for January. My expiration date is December. It could be a problem.
I try not to think about it as I move on.
14. Have somebody write a song about me.
15. Attend a music festival.
16. Crowd surf.
17. Attend a professional sports game.
18. Get married in Vegas.
I don’t know why I write that, but I’m not marking it out. After seeing how stressed out my brother and his fiancé are, I planned on eloping someday anyway. I don’t need to get married in front of a big crowd.
19. Get lost in NYC.
20. See a Broadway play.
21. Stay in a 5-star hotel.
22. Go bowling.
I’ve never been bowling before.
Sad, I know.
23. Do yoga.
24. See the Grand Canyon.
25. Visit French Quarter in New Orleans.
26. Eat a hot dog in Chicago.
27. See six months’ worth of sunsets (and sunrises).
28. Write a goodbye letter to everybody I love. Because, I’m too chicken to tell them to their face.
I put my pen down, satisfied with my list.
This starts tomorrow.
Tomorrow, my life begins.