On another cloudy day the whale watching was very good:
I found myself filling with rage over a mix-up about the title to our vehicle and it is delayed in being sent and I’m just trying to register our vehicle in Maine and get our Maine license plate– and then I stop and think suddenly WHO HAVE I BECOME??
I used to be so impressed with myself when I actually paid a bill on time. Paying something before it was shut off or someone was calling you about it was like really impressive.
I had this realization of my adultish organization in the car and immediately starting singing loudly…
“I won’t grow up..”
A wonderful repeat after me camp song from my youth…soon realizing I had forgot most of the verses.
But growing up does have its conveniences and for the sake of the children its probably a good thing we sort out the best schools and pay the electric bill and all that.
I still find it important to be rebellious in some ways. If I’m going to follow tedious rules like paying taxes and recycling, I need to know; Which ones can I break?
Some rules aren’t really rules but things people created in order to sell something. A prime example is veterinary care. Sure, dogs need rabies vaccines, but beyond that, really? Dexie took a face (and mouthful) of porcupine quills a few weeks ago and google recommended a trip to the vet, hands down. I’m thinking, “Anestheisa after hours? What’s that going to set us back???” Plus, it’s the principal of the thing, getting quilled is a perfectly natural, albeit painful, event of nature. And I’m a doctor, come on! And thus the DIY quill removal went quite smoothly and every quill from Dexie’s mug was removed: about 100 from her face and at LEAST 50 from her gums…and tongue.
And of course she is fine. I am sorry I don’t have any gruesome photos to share. But really, does everything have to be photo-documented, shared, discussed in the moment? There is a value to letting an event/a feeling/a thing be, sit on it and then maybe consider it later.
Anyways, I’m not judging if you take your dog to the vet. Our late dog Maddie was on thyroid medication the majority of her life; I’m not a monster! Just saying there really are loads of rule-breaking possibilities to suit one’s needs. Pick your poison.
I recently learned what an “Influencer” is (someone who posts things on social media and mentions a brand and basically gets paid to advertise) and I thought “well I could do that!” but would I want to? Even though there are nice products out there that I would probably enjoy using, I ultimately feel like material possessions shouldn’t be too glorified. I’m frankly more impressed with how this woman uses her urine to better her garden than half the crap I see touted on social media. This “Vive la Révolution” business is inspired by this Viva la Revolucion post about how it is a good thing to share reality and our unique perspective on life rather than the watered-down drivel and product-pushing perfection that is quite rampant on social media.
(I had to make my post with the French title due to our proximity to Canada.)
I’m guilty of posting lots of pretty photos without regard to reality. I’ve fallen into a “silent Sunday/wordless Wednesday” trap instead of taking some time to share witty snippets of real life that might better temper the perfect ocean and adorable children. In fact my son made fun of me for the wordless posts and asked “Is it Thought-I-would-talk Thursday?”
Sharing “reality” means time (it takes plenty of time for me to attempt to appear witty) and being vulnerable. It is a little scary to admit that you eat meat or like Trump or whatever other thing from one’s reality that places one at risk for people trying to give you advice/shouting at you. Plus I do think pictures tell a fine story on their own and I’ve always wanted this site to be a creative, positive and rated PG outlet. The kids do read it and I tend to want to stick to lighter topics like garden deer fences or the merits of Birkenstocks. But it also does feel good to write, which sometimes involves sharing one’s opinion. And you know what they say about opinions.
I like the presentation of reality that is ordered, beautiful and creative, but those pictures of moms with their kids on the floor with objects arranged to make it look like they are at the beach, on the moon, wherever, are an odd trend (but yeah, yeah, I get it, making mothering creative and all that). But doesn’t art lose its art-ness when these carefully crafted mise-en-scenes are really just an ad for Tide detergent? And when everyone’s doing it? Or are the moms now the smart new advertising execs?
While I envision myself as a NY times bestselling author (the female version of PJ O’Rourke), the reality is I am a new nurse practitioner looking for my first job and have two children and one baby and just moved across the country. So should I spend time trying to sound witty? Is Trying To Sound Clever on a blog that makes no money a good use of my time? I like silence and do not think everything needs to be photographed, captured, shared, considered. Most things should just be. In the moment and all that. Like Dexie getting quilled.
But there is also expression and the desire to add to the discourse. The discourse I am supposed to be adding to is the Journal of Psychiatric and Mental Health Nursing. My editor/advisor/torturer/whatever you want to call her is expecting a draft submission for publication of my doctoral research project ASAP.
Trying To Sound Clever sounds a lot more fun. And less like something a responsible adult would do. So writing about this nonsense is the appropriate counter act to beginning attempts to publish that long and tedious paper that is the purest reminder of the degree I’m FINALLY done with and the many, many rules that go along with the career I’ve chosen.
Along with attempts at wit, jumping in the freezing ocean (and getting your hair wet no matter how good of a hair day it is) feels like an effort in breaking some sort of convention of adulthood.
The ocean feels so vast and free…and thus, some pictures of the sea…