By popular demand: the Ivy Update
Popular if you consider one person a populus. Which, I guess nobody does, including the dictionary. So scratch that.
So the novel, which is turning out to be more of a novella or even a long short story, is definitely NOT going to be finished by midnight tonight. That's okay, though-- I'm glad I got some of it out, and I have the rest of it pretty well sketched out. Since the "contest" is over, I don't mind telling you guys my premise now. This is something I tried writing a few times and gave up on, but I think it'll stick this time.
So my brother has this friend, a self-styled martial arts "expert" (read: nerd) who takes himself very seriously. A few years back, my brother and I were talking about him and I wondered aloud what would happen if he were really attacked by real ninjas. Would he crap himself? Would he totally flip out and kill them without even thinking twice about it? Would something else unrelated to those two options happen? Well, I'm not sure yet, but that's pretty much the premise, except the real ninjas are just his roomates giving him what they think would be a great birthday present-- the opportunity to think he is kicking ninja ass.
Anyway, now that I've made it totally unnecessary to actually read it, let's move on.
So, my friend Carey who is an IT professional a couple of towns west of me, recently sent me photos of her new neice and her 3 year old nephew. I love that kind of shit so I wrote her back to ask how her sister is doing with being the mother of two. Since, you know, I have that all locked up. I can offer sage advice and everything. She replied that her sister was doing great, as a dermatologist in private practice who only works 2 days per week and makes assloads of money even in that time. (Evidently, dermatology is where the big bucks in medicine are these days.) She has the kids in daycare three days a week so she has one whole day to herself, and still manages to be with them four whole days per week. Okay then, so I'm feeling a little silly for thinking I had any advice to offer this person.
And I'm having an attack of the sour grapes now. Obviously, her sister worked extremely hard to have that kind of a flexible and lucrative career. Why didn't I do that? This is kind of a self-answering question, though-- I didn't do that because my daughter was conceived during my "break" between graduation and grad school. So, I'm still on that break, even though when I graduated I intended it to only be a couple of years. It's probably fortunate that I didn't go straight to grad school, though, because I probably would have gotten an MA in English in anticipation of a PhD to teach it at a university, which has not turned out to be what I'm interested in doing for a living. So, in one sense, THANK GOD I didn't buckle down right out of school, right?
So the funk I've been in after that discussion isn't so much about regretting the choices I've made that have led me to my current life. I actually love my current life in every way except financial. (So, yeah, being a part-time doctor could be nice in that way.) I think it is, at least in part, a regret that I am not more driven/ambitious/focused. I'm a smart kid. I think I could have hacked it in med school just fine, if it had been what I really wanted to do. Or librarian school, or English professor school, or vet school, or any of the other ideas I've knocked around over the years. I feel like I COULD do any of it. I just lack a strong drive to do any one thing, and in its place is a vague notion that I'd like to be doing SOMETHING snazzy at some point.
I know that this is a spoiled middle-class-girl "problem," and that I should feel fortunate to have the luxury of not being driven. And I do. I really like the mom thing. I have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy, being around my kids during their baby and childhoods (providing I get frequent breaks). I will probably continue to do this until Davis is in school in 4-5 years, doing the daycare and possibly a little freelancing (if I can get it and do it well) to contribute to the family bottom line, and I hope by then I'll have a better idea of what I want to be when I grow up.
How many more paragraphs can I start with "so?" And what does that say about me?
More later, maybe...
So the novel, which is turning out to be more of a novella or even a long short story, is definitely NOT going to be finished by midnight tonight. That's okay, though-- I'm glad I got some of it out, and I have the rest of it pretty well sketched out. Since the "contest" is over, I don't mind telling you guys my premise now. This is something I tried writing a few times and gave up on, but I think it'll stick this time.
So my brother has this friend, a self-styled martial arts "expert" (read: nerd) who takes himself very seriously. A few years back, my brother and I were talking about him and I wondered aloud what would happen if he were really attacked by real ninjas. Would he crap himself? Would he totally flip out and kill them without even thinking twice about it? Would something else unrelated to those two options happen? Well, I'm not sure yet, but that's pretty much the premise, except the real ninjas are just his roomates giving him what they think would be a great birthday present-- the opportunity to think he is kicking ninja ass.
Anyway, now that I've made it totally unnecessary to actually read it, let's move on.
So, my friend Carey who is an IT professional a couple of towns west of me, recently sent me photos of her new neice and her 3 year old nephew. I love that kind of shit so I wrote her back to ask how her sister is doing with being the mother of two. Since, you know, I have that all locked up. I can offer sage advice and everything. She replied that her sister was doing great, as a dermatologist in private practice who only works 2 days per week and makes assloads of money even in that time. (Evidently, dermatology is where the big bucks in medicine are these days.) She has the kids in daycare three days a week so she has one whole day to herself, and still manages to be with them four whole days per week. Okay then, so I'm feeling a little silly for thinking I had any advice to offer this person.
And I'm having an attack of the sour grapes now. Obviously, her sister worked extremely hard to have that kind of a flexible and lucrative career. Why didn't I do that? This is kind of a self-answering question, though-- I didn't do that because my daughter was conceived during my "break" between graduation and grad school. So, I'm still on that break, even though when I graduated I intended it to only be a couple of years. It's probably fortunate that I didn't go straight to grad school, though, because I probably would have gotten an MA in English in anticipation of a PhD to teach it at a university, which has not turned out to be what I'm interested in doing for a living. So, in one sense, THANK GOD I didn't buckle down right out of school, right?
So the funk I've been in after that discussion isn't so much about regretting the choices I've made that have led me to my current life. I actually love my current life in every way except financial. (So, yeah, being a part-time doctor could be nice in that way.) I think it is, at least in part, a regret that I am not more driven/ambitious/focused. I'm a smart kid. I think I could have hacked it in med school just fine, if it had been what I really wanted to do. Or librarian school, or English professor school, or vet school, or any of the other ideas I've knocked around over the years. I feel like I COULD do any of it. I just lack a strong drive to do any one thing, and in its place is a vague notion that I'd like to be doing SOMETHING snazzy at some point.
I know that this is a spoiled middle-class-girl "problem," and that I should feel fortunate to have the luxury of not being driven. And I do. I really like the mom thing. I have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy, being around my kids during their baby and childhoods (providing I get frequent breaks). I will probably continue to do this until Davis is in school in 4-5 years, doing the daycare and possibly a little freelancing (if I can get it and do it well) to contribute to the family bottom line, and I hope by then I'll have a better idea of what I want to be when I grow up.
How many more paragraphs can I start with "so?" And what does that say about me?
More later, maybe...