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.

Export My Content


is excited about the future

I'm doing 7 things

Vynl's Life List

  1. 1. move to New York City
    925 people
  2. 2. write a memoir
    352 people
  3. 3. learn how to speak French
    188 people
  4. 4. Get the hell out of Michigan
    1 person
  5. 5. Get out of Michigan
    16 people
  6. 6. Study abroad in Spain
    36 people
  7. 7. Room at the Chelsea Hotel in NYC
    1 person
Recent entries
go to an Obama rally
BARACK OBAMA RALLY: Detroit, Michigan, Monday, June 16th 2008

It’s a beautiful day in mid June. The sun is out and it is freakishly cold for summer being only four days away. Detroit, a crumbling city that’s stuck in the past and more like a ghost town is suddenly alive once again. Floods of people are walking past the tall art deco buildings at a rapid pace, and for a moment, I forget that this is not Chicago or New York.

The event that is bringing people together is something so much more significant than a baseball game. It is something real. Something that comes with hope and something that Detroit as well as the country has needed for far too long: A change.

A new hope.

In the humid tunnel connected to Joe Louis Arena, people from all walks of life stand still arm against arm waiting to be let in to hear the future President of the United States, Senator Barack Obama of Illinois, speak. The rich, the poor, the middle class, the white, the black, the Asian, etcetera, have smiles on their faces and there is a positive energy emanating through the uncomfortable tunnel.

Volunteers walk through asking us to sign petitions, asking us to register to vote and selling campaign buttons. It reminds me of the movement in the 60s. Mario Savio or Abbie Hoffmann could emerge at any moment

Two and a half hours later, we are out of the tunnel, entering inside. Security is tighter than it is at Detroit Metro Airport and we have to file one by one through metal detectors. Finally, all of our waiting is worth it and we enter into the arena, which today is cleverly titled “Detroit Barack City.”

Joe Louis, which seats 20,000, is completely full and the feel good energy races through my veins. I want to hold hands with the people around me and give a random person a hug. Even though I attend church on Sundays, I feel a kind of closeness with these strangers that I do not feel with my church brothers and sisters.

Governor Granholm is the first to speak. She praises Senator Hilary Clinton for her courageous campaign as a woman, discusses the creation of new jobs for people in Michigan through the use of alternative fuels and introduces…AL GORE!

That’s right. Al Gore. We were breathing the same air as the man who won the popular vote over George W. Bush in 2000, but who lost the presidency. The man who “invented the internet” was standing right in front of us.

Gore talked about his passion for saving the planet from melting ice caps and talked down the doings of the Republican Party as well as talked down the Bush administration amidst other important issues.

My whole body is tingling and I am numb with enthusiasm as former Vice President of the United States, Al Gore, introduces the man who will save America: Barack Obama.

I am in such a deep trance that I hardly notice the crowds around me screaming, whistling and frantically clapping. Try to imagine Beatle mania times a million.


Obama is every ounce charismatic as he is on the television and every ounce genuine as he appears to be on televisions as well as how he sounds on National Public Radio. He is one of those people who have the innate capability to make you feel as if you know him, even if you have never met him.

Shivers pass over my body and I am freezing with goose bumps from excitement as Obama delivers his speech. He discusses his dreams for a national health care system, better education and creating more jobs. As I listen to this politician’s promises, I for once do not feel a sense of skepticism or deception.

The crowd chants, “Yes we can,” and exclaims, “We want change!”

After about 45 minutes of speaking to the good people of Detroit, Obama calls for the 20,000 of us to participate in grass root efforts for his campaign and unfortunately is on his way.

We feel two emotions. One of complete shock as our feet seem to be glued to the arena floor, but also one of empowerment with an undeniable urge to hurry and take action.

Exiting the arena, the positive energy is still abundant along with the feeling of hope that is fresh in our minds and our bodies.

I cannot wait until November 4th. It’s going to happen. I can feel it.


meet augusten burroughs
Augusten Burroughs: Barnes & Noble, Union Square, April 29th 2008

After having just finished finals only a few days before, landing at LaGuardia Airport had never felt so refreshing.

With Annie, one of my closest friends by my side, I lugged my red and white polka dotted luggage through a never-ending line of tourists waiting for a taxi so we could take a black cab instead. I knew I wasn’t supposed to ride in those black cabs for safety reasons and because they charged too much, but today I had good reason to break the rules.

Today was the day that I would meet my literary soul mate and idol, Augusten Burroughs.

Taking a shortcut through some shady parts of Manhattan, I sat in the front seat next to the cabbie who was speaking in Spanish to a friend over his blue tooth. I looked in the backseat at Annie who was seated next to an awkward British couple and had a horrified look on her face. Having just finished her criminal justice degree, I could only imagine what awful scenarios were going through her head. Practically fluent in Spanish, I shot her an assuring smile to let her know that no drug deals or murder talk was going down.

Finally, we were safely dropped off at our destination on the corner of East 55th Street and 2nd to see Alex’s messy dark hair in a poof popping out in front of a small outdoor flower shop.

There were a few hours before we had to be in Union Square for the “Wolf at the Table” debut, so Alex and I took Annie to the best place to eat in New York, if not the best in the world. Sylvia’s in Harlem.

After forcing Annie to order chicken and waffles, a tradition at Sylvia’s, we hurriedly went down to the underground to catch a train to Union Square. One of my dreams would soon be coming true and I had two of my favorite friends to share the dream with me.

Taking in my surroundings as I headed above ground, Union Square was immediately reminiscent of Boston to me, yet slightly busier.

While walking up to the historical building that houses Barnes & Noble, I was reminded again of my love for New York. Upon entering, I felt more at home there than I did at my own bookstore I was employed by back home.[1] There was a comforting smell of old as well as new and the lighting screamed anything but suburbia. Oh, love.

We traveled on an escalator up 4 floors to place ourselves at the end of what would end up being an almost 5 hour long line.

We thumbed through books, played waiting games that children play in the car on the way to Disneyworld and made friends with snobby gay students from NYU. I couldn’t have asked for a better 3 hour plus wait.

The line was becoming shorter and Augusten’s assistant asked me what my name was, wrote it on a sticky note and placed it in one of the books I brought for him to sign. I thought that I was fine and played it cool straight up until I was standing directly in front of him.

Suddenly, my palms began sweating and my knees were wobbling. I thought I would faint.

He signed 2 copies of his books for me and after taking a quick glance through my journal, which practically made my heart stop, doodled Bentley, his dog child, on the last page. I said to him in the most sincere manner possible, “I love you,” and was on my way.

It was the first time I have ever said those 3 words to a man and meant it.

Augusten Burroughs, Union Square, April 29th, 2008. Making my dreams happen one at a time!

[1] New dream #2348209835098: To work at the Barnes & Noble in Union Square.


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