Reasons why I don't ever want to become a vampire

I recently finished John Polidori's The Vampyre and am now on to a different kind of vampire tale, but even if I wasn't, I've long believed that being a vampire would be the worst fate imaginable. 

It's not the blood or the taking of life. Those aren't my issues with vampirehood.

The problem is the fucking monotony and the absolute ennui that would ensue after living for hundreds and hundreds or, dear god, thousands of years.

Humans keep humaning in their pathetic and/or atrocious ways.

Like their insistence on measuring girls' clothing lengths. Word on the street is that N's former high school was checking girls shorts today, and this news has put me in the foulest of foul moods. 

(Because didn't we just go through this in the before times which weren't that long ago?)

Unless I'm seeing a penis, testicles, nipples, a vulva, gluteal cleft or extensive mammary action, I don't care what a person wears, and I cannot wrap my head around why seeing shoulders and thighs is such a problem for so many people. 

But guess what being a vampire would mean? 

I WOULD NEVER ESCAPE THE BULLSHIT THAT IS DRESS CODES FOR WOMEN AND GIRLS.

I would never escape buses dropping my kid off on the wrong side of a 5-lane parkway again.

I would never escape having to call and find out if this can be remedied.

I would never escape being interrupted by texts or by my children who don't see me busily working at my desk in what used to be the living room. 

I would never escape hormonal mood swings that may cause me hurt someone (or them to hurt me) before menopause is here. 

I would never escape the depression that is shopping at Walmart. 

I would never escape doing work that doesn't actually get utilized in a purposeful way.

I would never escape litter that tracks itself all over the house and is especially irritating in summer when I have bare feet.

I would never escape the hellscape that we're managing to turn the Earth into. 

Despite how funny Laszlo, Nandor, and Colin Robinson make it seem, being a vampire and having my life extended only to witness humanity effing things up sounds unbearable. 

Second-guessing life choices...sort of/not really

It's that time of year again--the time when teachers post their "back-to-school" photos or comments stating that this is their 18th year in the classroom or their 12th year at School X and 24th year teaching in general.

This is also the time of year when I think to myself, "This MIGHT HAVE BEEN my ____ year."

[For the record, had I not taken an extended break from full-time work, I would be starting my 23rd year.]

Mostly, seeing these posts makes me feel bad because it means that in 4 years I could RETIRE from teaching, and that probably isn't the best attitude to have, especially since I haven't worked full-time as a teacher in 19 years. The only reason I have regret is because I would want to be almost done with a job that I haven't wanted to do full-time in the first place. 

And this just seems....dumb (in addition to confusing). 

So it is also at this time of year when I have to do what a lot of people do: I have to give myself a good talking to in response to stuff I see on social media. 

The talking to goes like this:

First, you didn't want to try to be the mom you wanted to be and the teacher you wanted to be because you felt pretty certain it would drive you crazy to not give yourself fully to either one. That is water LONG under the bridge so would you puhlease get over it. 

Second, you created this weird life of sorta teaching, sorta writing, sorta editing and have a bunch of hobbies and interests and you would have to give ALL of that up if you went back full-time. You spent time with your kids while they were growing up, and now you're spending time with your parents who are growing old. 

[To soothe your ego, here is a reminder of the things you've done: 13 years as a freelance writer, 11 years at the cottage school, 7 years as a substitute teacher, edited several books for people who have been published, editor at online literary magazine, soon-to-be published in an anthology. There do you feel better now?]

Third, you ABHOR meetings. The best part of the teaching you do is that you can avoid these. Same with your writing work. Minimal meetings is key. 

After the lecture I feel better and am able to go about my life doing what I have chosen to do. 

Until next August when we do this again.

If someone did to our free time what we do to kids' free time

Imagine an adult working a job. Maybe this job is 25 hours a week, maybe 40. It doesn't really matter. When this adult is not at work, she or he is experiencing what is called "free time," the time they can use however they wish. 

Most adults, because they are adults and have responsibilities, must spend part of that time doing stuff that keeps them alive: cooking, shopping, cleaning. 

But the rest of the time is theirs to read, play video games, sleep on the couch, watch Golden Girls, play sports, smoke pot, whatever. 

Now imagine if someone said to this adult:

"You must do something productive with your free time even if you don't want to. You have to join a rotary club or a politically-minded group. You have to go to book club three nights a week. You can no longer just enjoy your free time as you want. You have to engage in something that will 'improve' you in some way."

How pissed would you be?

I expect most adults would be furious. How dare someone tell them what to do with their free time?

And yet, it seems to me that parents often do this with their own kids. 

I think the reasons for this are complicated:

First, it can be hard for parents to understand that their children are not smaller/younger mockups of them: "I played football and love football, and therefore I want my child to play and love football." And maybe the parent encourages (pushes) the child into something that the child maybe feels meh about. 

Parents have also bought into this notion that if their kid hasn't set the world on fire by the time they are 17, it's over for them. Like kids have to pack in all these experiences before they go off to college (or to get into college), and if they don't....god help them. If our kids aren't little mockups of us, they are moldable blobs of clay that we are shaping into the next big success or the next awesome scholarship recipient. (The media, colleges, and high schools promote this and feed on the anxiety.)

[Personally, I think if you peak at 17 you're in for a rather disappointing life. I had a good high school experience but FFS, it wasn't the be-all and end-all.]

Of course, there are some kids who legit want to be involved in everything. I was that kid in high school. The paragraph next to my senior photograph is probably six inches long with all the stuff I was involved in. But by the time I got into college, I didn't want to join shit because I was freaking tired from the previous four years. It just wore me out rather than making me a bigger, stronger, faster version of myself (like the Six Million Dollar Woman). 

I'm so much more than I was in college, and I want to scream it from the rooftops to quit putting unnecessary pressure on young people. 

It seems pretty important to let kids be kids, even if it means they don't join stuff, if all they do is go to school, pass their classes, and come home (like my sons do). If G and M wanted to join something, I would encourage them, and sometimes I ask if they'd be interested in something I may hear about at their school, but when they say "no," I don't insist. 

D was never a joiner in school and sometimes I think he regrets it. And maybe one day my sons will regret it, but it is THEIR LIFE and, honestly, their problem. I would rather them be mad at themselves one day because they didn't get involved than be resentful of me because I made them do stuff they didn't want to do. And, lord knows, I don't need a fight. 

It's hard enough to get them to do the basic stuff like wash their hair and wear deodorant and reply back to their grandparents' text messages. If they don't want to do judo or be in the chess club or play with the orchestra, that's fine. 

The kids who are joiners will join, and you won't have to twist their arms to do it. The kids who don't want to join may not want to join now (on your time table), but they may do it one day when they are inclined. And then there are some who will never join anything and will be perfectly fine with it, even if it makes their parent's eye twitch.