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Good Life Choices
Jul. 15th, 2012 10:21 pmThe scene Âū of the way through the episode, where Our Hero is stuck on a seemingly-intractable problem, and then his trusty buddy says something unrelated, and a look of comprehension suddenly dawns on his face.
I had that scene today.
I do not have to go to the baby shower. Even though I could be in town, I, as a grown-assed adult*, can choose to say, âNo, I think I will do this other thing, instead.â And send a gift with my mother to deliver (two, actually, since itâs a joint thing).
Because, you see, my brother (who I almost never see for any length of time) and I are going to go have a fucking** Adventure****. I would much rather have an extra day of Adventure than go to an antiquated rite of passage for the wives of cousins I almost never see. I am not going to be the village****** for these kids. They will likely not remember my name until they are teenagers.
* In a lot of ways, Iâve been a grown-assed adult for over half my life. I am The Responsible One if ever there was one, but a month away from my 30th birthday, I am really most sincerely a grown-assed adult. I pay bills and everything.
** Funny story: many people who know me a little in real life (school, work, church, whatever) apologize when they cuss in front of me. My ongoing bewilderment at this is substantial and makes me wonder how differently I present from my self-concept***
***Although, in many cases, theyâre like 12 (not really. Metaphorically) and I probably ping their âdonât cuss in front of grown-upsâ sensors.
****If the Adventure goes according to plan***** I'm sure it will generate several posts' worth of material
*****The official plan is something like Napoleonâs Battle Plan (per Sports Night): First we get in the car, then we see what happens.
******They will not lack for village, but I, first cousin once removed from out of town, will not be part of it. My cousinâs kids on the other side of my family know me a bit, though. Theyâve got a smaller village, and I do my best to be a part of it. Now, should my brother reproduce, his kids will know me, even if I live on another fucking continent.
I had that scene today.
I do not have to go to the baby shower. Even though I could be in town, I, as a grown-assed adult*, can choose to say, âNo, I think I will do this other thing, instead.â And send a gift with my mother to deliver (two, actually, since itâs a joint thing).
Because, you see, my brother (who I almost never see for any length of time) and I are going to go have a fucking** Adventure****. I would much rather have an extra day of Adventure than go to an antiquated rite of passage for the wives of cousins I almost never see. I am not going to be the village****** for these kids. They will likely not remember my name until they are teenagers.
* In a lot of ways, Iâve been a grown-assed adult for over half my life. I am The Responsible One if ever there was one, but a month away from my 30th birthday, I am really most sincerely a grown-assed adult. I pay bills and everything.
** Funny story: many people who know me a little in real life (school, work, church, whatever) apologize when they cuss in front of me. My ongoing bewilderment at this is substantial and makes me wonder how differently I present from my self-concept***
***Although, in many cases, theyâre like 12 (not really. Metaphorically) and I probably ping their âdonât cuss in front of grown-upsâ sensors.
****If the Adventure goes according to plan***** I'm sure it will generate several posts' worth of material
*****The official plan is something like Napoleonâs Battle Plan (per Sports Night): First we get in the car, then we see what happens.
******They will not lack for village, but I, first cousin once removed from out of town, will not be part of it. My cousinâs kids on the other side of my family know me a bit, though. Theyâve got a smaller village, and I do my best to be a part of it. Now, should my brother reproduce, his kids will know me, even if I live on another fucking continent.
