Yesterday, I posted the first few items from my Fuck-it List. Here, we continue with more things I will never do.
4. Being knowledgeable about wine. Is this the perennial yuppie dream? To pull a bottle out of our cellar and discuss its merits? I toyed for years about the idea of taking some kind of wine tasting course, blithely ignoring the fact that, sadly, I have a woefully underdeveloped palate. Rachel can taste the different spices in a dish and list them, and I’m all like, “That tastes good.” I could try as hard as I want, but I would never be particularly good at judging wine. But that’s not the least of it: I don’t really drink. Yes, I have been known to kick back at a conference or two (be quiet), and I will occasionally order a glass of wine or beer at a dinner out, but weeks can go by without me ingesting any alcohol. If it disappeared from the earth, I probably wouldn’t notice for a while. Which doesn’t really bode well for somebody who wants to know more about wine. So, nope.
5. Med school. In a parallel life, I went to med school and am now a practicing doctor. In this life, I am 41 years old and the truth of the matter is that in order to make this dream a reality I would have to take (and excel in) several undergraduate science courses and the MCAT and work like hell just to even to get into medical school. And, assuming that I did, I likely would not graduate into full-fledged doctorhood until the age of 50 (assuming I didn’t choose to specialize), whereupon I would have to work like mad simply to pay off my medical school debts. And, truthfully, while I like the problem-solving aspect that goes along with being a family doctor, I can also see that there’s a lot of the job that’s quite un-glamorous. I’m absolutely fascinated by biology, epidemiology, the intersections between social justice and medicine, etc. But I think I like the idea of learning about it better than the idea of actually committing the rest of my life and my finances to it. Also, at this point, I don’t want to work that hard.
6. Dyeing my hair. I stopped colouring my hair this year, and the very last remnants of the dyed bits are nearly gone. And while I will reserve the right to someday pull a Cher in Moonstruck and walk into some salon and instruct them to “take care of the grey,” I kind of doubt I will.
7. Disneyland. Everyone wants to take their kids to Disneyland, right? I thought I did, but then I realized that I would probably rather poke my eyes out with a rusty spoon. Given that I once had a panic attack (the only panic attack I’ve ever had in my life) at Canada’s Wonderland WITHOUT CHILDREN, I’m fairly sure it would be a bad idea to enter an enclosed theme park (see my point above, about not being able to leave cruises) with them. I don’t do that well with constant inputs, overstimulation, crappy food, long lineups, whirling rides, or mascots. Rachel and I sat down a couple of years ago and discussed all the above and realized that Disneyland would never be on our list of family vacations. Fortunately, that’s what we have a sperm donor for.
What's on your Fuck-It list?
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I am taking part in NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month, which has me posting a blog entry every day throughout the month of November.