So we got a dog. A puppy in fact. A rough collie puppy to be specific. And I knew the instant we brought him home at 9:17 p.m. on June 7th that our lives would never be the same.
In the weeks leading up to Cousteau’s arrival, I was frantically preparing myself by watching every Cesar Millan episode I could find, reading (and re-reading) The Bible (a.k.a., The Art of Raising a Puppy by the Monks of New Skete), and googling pictures and videos of collie puppies at different ages. (Pathetic, I know.) And really, this was a strange time for me, since I think I’m usually a fairly chill individual. Luckily, this onset of OCDness was firmly balanced by Wilf’s nonchalant and, at times, indifference to the whole process. His underlying outlook of, ‘don’t worry, we’ll figure it out when he’s here’, didn’t sit well with me on matters such as vaccinations, obedience, and exercise requirements. Why couldn’t we figure it out now? Why couldn’t we be prepared?
This will likely be one of the more sentimental entries that I ever post. As such, it might be too mushy for some. But at least now you have been warned.
I actually wrote the important part of this post a while ago. I was supposed to be packing for a trip last December, but was simultaneously Skyping with my friend Caitlin (the very same Caitlin who suggested eHarmony). And while we’d always known it, for some reason, it was clear during this conversation that our views on guys and relationships were quite different. So, once we were done talking, instead of folding clothes, I found myself writing my thoughts on love. Why? No idea. Not something I would really ever consider doing and I thought it was actually pretty lame while I was doing it. Still, I guess it didn’t hurt, as it was probably just my way of trying to better understand my own behaviours and thoughts toward relationships.
Tomorrow is World Oceans Day. Today I am eating apricots. These small, pastel orange fruits always remind me of warm evenings at the beach. And, I’m not quite sure why (although I assume some higher level organic chemistry is involved), but the delightful taste produced when the sweetness of their flesh mixes with the saltiness of the air seems to provide me with the best circumstances for contemplating life. But, while one would probably assume that my current thoughts are organizing themselves into an exciting post in honour of this special day, the truth is, they’re not. Because I don’t really know what to say. Of course this dilemma is not for lack of want, or knowledge of the subject matter; it is because—for the first time in my life—I am trying to decide how I feel about the ocean. Well, not the ocean itself. More specifically, the future of the ocean. And how young fisheries scientists, like myself, fit in.
Valentine’s Day. Two words that most people either love or loathe. Of course everyone’s heard it before, but let’s summarize why the lovey-dovey camp likes February 14th: it’s special; it’s romantic; I have the best boyfriend/ girlfriend/ husband/ wife in the world; I get flowers/ chocolates/ jewelry/ amazing sex/ dinner out; I like to show my significant other that I care. And for the haters it goes something like this: it’s stupid, you shouldn’t need an excuse to show affection; it’s so materialistic/ overly commercial; it’s a chick holiday; I’m single.
While all of the above are generalizations, they’re also all fairly accurate. Case and point: I saw derivatives of at least 75% of them on facebook this morning. (Clearly, no further proof required.) But anyway, I can relate to both sides, although I tend to have the mindset that no, you don’t need one day a year to celebrate being a couple. But there’s also no need to go out of your way to be grouchy either. No one is forcing you to be romantic and if you feel obligated to do something nice for your partner, then hopefully you realize you’ve got some bigger relationship issues to deal with. And (believe it or not), you can have great sex the other 364 days of the year too. In fact, I really hope you do. I also hope you are spontaneous, and go on dates on Mondays, and cook nice dinners together mid-week, and surprise each other, and, most importantly – appreciate – each other, more often than not. And, personally, while I actually do think unconditional love is the most wonderful thing in the world (100% serious), I’m also have a tendency to lean toward the unpredictable side of life. Thus, I’ve come to realize that anticipating a day full of romance is not only counterintuitive, but also super boring.