stuff to do:

from "Someone I Loved" by Anna Gavalda.

"go for a picnic, have a nap on the bank of a river, eat peaches, shrimp, croissants, sticky rice, swim, dance, buy myself shoes, lingerie, perfume, read the paper, window- shop, take the Metro, watch time pass, push you over when you're taking up all of the room, hang out the laundry, go to the opera, to Bayreuth, to Vienna, to the races, to the supermarket, have a barbeque, complain because you forgot the charcoal, brush my teeth at the same time as you, buy you underwear, cut the grass, read the paper over your shoulder, keep you from eating too many peanuts, visit the caves in the Loire, and those in Hunter Valley, act like an idiot, talk my head off, introduce you to Martha and Tino, pick blackberries, cook, go to Vietnam, wear a sari, garden, wake you up because you're snoring again, go to the zoo, to the flea market, to Paris, to London, to Melrose, to Piccadilly, sing you songs, stop smoking, ask you to trim my nails, buy dishes, foolish things, things that have no purpose, eat ice cream, people- watch, beat you at chess, listen to jazz, reggae, dance the mambo and the cha- cha, get bored, throw tantrums, pout, laugh, wrap you around my little finger, look for a house among the cows, fill up huge shopping carts, repaint a ceiling, sew curtains, spend hours around a table talking with interesting people, grab you by the goatee, cut your hair, pull up weeds, wash the car, see the sea, watch old B-movies, call you up again, say dirty words to you, learn to knit, knit you a scarf, unravel that horrible scarf, collect cats, dogs, parrots, elephants, rent bicycles, not use them, stay in a hammock, reread my grandmother's copy of Bicot, look at Suzy's dresses again, drink margaritas in the shade, cheat, learn to use an iron, throw the iron out the window, sing in the rain, run away from tourists, get drunk, tell you everything, remember that some things are better left unsaid, listen to you, give you my hand, go find the iron, listen to the words of songs, set the alarm, forget our suitcases, stop rushing off everywhere, put out the trash, ask you if you still love me, chat with the neighbor, tell you about my childhood in Bahrain, my nanny's rings, the smell of henna and balls of amber, make toast for eggs, labels for jam jars..."