I will finish what I started, dammit, because I am a grown up (in seven days, it's officially inarguable). If you missed the first two parts of this list, you can find them here and here.
21. Finish my EGOT. (As defined by Tracy Jordan on 30 Rock, that's winning an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony). So far I only have an expired Babysitters Club Fan Club membership and a 4th place JV track trophy from high school (on which the runner's foot has broken off).
22. Get new glasses. (I need them, and my eyes are bloodshot from squinting all the time, but for some reason I'm currently obsessed with giant 80s frames and I feel I need to let this urge pass. Jeff agrees. I was all, "But they're so cute in a nerdy, Annie Hall kind of way." And he said, "Maybe back then. Now they're only cute in a douchey hipster kind of way." Touché... or should I say, douché?)
23. Learn the Single Ladies dance. (I totally missed that boat. I need a new dance craze, stat! Also maybe some new knees, because every time I squat lately I pop. And not like pop and lock, like pop and limp.)
24. Be a housemate on Jersey Shore. (With application directives like "appear to be younger than 30"—dudes, I cannot control my crow's feet, they are genetic—and "no haters allowed"—but Haterade is my favorite thirst quencher!—I wouldn't have a chance in hell, no matter how hard I GTL in the next few days.)
25. Learn to speak Spanish. (Sure, I'm going to DR, but I'm sure I'll get by with the lyrics to Gerardo's "Rico Suave" and, of course, "En Mi Viejo San Juan."
26. Pronounce words correctly. (Jeff makes fun of me because I say some things funny. Like apparently I say "far-head" and "har-mone" instead of forehead and hormone. Also this weekend on the drive to Massachusetts I read him an article from the New York Times Magazine about gay albatrosses (really) and apparently I mispronounced "macaque," which is a kind of monkey. I guess it's "ma-cack" but I was saying "ma-cock." Of course Jeff liked that one. I'm totally smacking my farhead.)
27. Make a list of 90 types of bitches. (It would never be better than this one. Although I offer a #91: Stupid ass list-making bitches. Meta!)
28. Finish this fucking list. (Seriously, WTF was I thinking? Geez.)
(I have to leave myself something to strive for in my fourth decade.)