Dear 43 Things Users,

10 years after introducing 43 Things to the world, we have decided we have met our last goal: completing the incredible experience that has been 43 Things. Please join us in giving one last cheer to all the folks who have shared their goals with the world, as well as all the people who have worked at The Robot Co-op to build this incredible website. We won a Webby Award, published a book, and brought happiness to a lot of people.

Starting today, 43 Things users can export their goals and entries from the site. Starting August 15, we will make the site “read only”. 43 Things users will still be able to view the site and export their content, but we won’t be taking any new content from users. We hope to leave the site up for folks to see and download their content until the end of the year. Ending on New Year’s Eve takes us full circle.

It has been a long ride (one of our original goals was to "build a company that lasts at least 2 years” - we beat that one!) While we wish the site could live on, it has suffered from a number of challenges - changes in how people use the site, the advertising industry, and how search engines view the site. We wish the outcome was different – but we’ve always been realistic about when our goals are met and when they aren't.

As of today, you will be able to download your goals and entries. See more about that on the FAQ page. Thanks for 10 great years of goal-setting and achieving.

- The Robots.

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I'm doing 13 things
Recent entries
Go on my first train ride, complete with dainty gloves, cucumber sandwiches, and a flask of whisky.
my first train ride

It wasn’t what I expected.
There were no women in fabulous fur hats or teary-eyed lovers running alongside the train as we left. In fact, the car I chose was full of bums and their smells. I definitely couldn’t imagine Rosemary Clooney taking this train, but I could imagine Hunter S. Thompson there. The train had a certain anti-romance about it that reminded me of boxcars and hobos. what was I thinking before? The train ought to be celebrated for what it is: the poor man’s transportation, a place for eccentrics and alcoholics. The next train I take, expect gypsy clothes and bottles in paper bags.

Buy an inflatable kiddie pool and lounge in it all summer, sipping iced teas and making cat calls to the 15-year-old boys in the neighborhood.

my inflatable kiddie pool is disgusting. Murky water the color of diarrhea that’s frozen over, so I can’t even pour it out.
this is why I love summer. winter ruins the magic.

attend burning man
Return without STDs.

Also, I’d like to look fabulous the entire time.

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