‘Thoughts on Ambition’ or ‘Why Bullwinkle Would Never Shoot a Man Then Drive Off With His Wife’
Confessions, Whatnot Comments (12)
A curious thing, ambition. It used to own me to the point of dictating every decision, great and small. As the textbook version of an A-type personality, the drive that my ambition fueled brought a lot of success, but also a good deal of hardship. Versatile in its ability to be both virtue and vice, ambition can be more of an anchor than a set of wings if not kept in check. I finally checked mine a few years ago, but only after the damage had already been done through its checking me into a brick wall. Sadly, brick walls are often the only things that get my attention, so I tend to believe that it was necessary.
May was a busy month. I defended a thesis, was awarded a masters degree, drove hither and yon to see family and friends, then hopped a plane and flew to England to have a couple pints with another group of friends (y’know, no big whoop). With June’s arrival, however, things stopped. June was miraculous. Glorious, even. I read actual books for actual recreation. I caught up on months of The New Yorker. I slept. These were all things I’d forfeited to one degree or another during the previous four months. In June and really for the first time in my life, I was able to put myself in neutral. I’d always glanced at neutral from fifth gear, thinking, “Oh, neutral. You lazy, freeloading bastard. How can you just sit there in the middle of the transmission doing nothing, you dirty dirty whore of a worthless gear?’ It turns out that neutral is a lovely gear once you get to know it. Being a dirty dirty whore has its perks, you see, and there are worse titles one can have for limited periods than ‘freeloading bastard’.
There’s a catch, though, per normal. I did such a bang-up job at doing nothing in June that halfway through July, I’m still trying to prime the engine in order to restart it so I can put my ass back in gear. Case in point: In two days I board a plane to Canada in order to present part of my research at The Big-ass Conference of Smart People Who Do Science Junk. 2008. Let’s talk about preparation for a moment. I didn’t touch anything until this past week. Even then, having waited until the last minute, do you have any idea how difficult it was to double-click on the electronic version of my thesis? I’d finish the first click then collapse into whining about having to click something again. Having finally managed to open the document, I began reading and was like, ‘What?! Wait a minute, I didn’t write this crap, there’s no….what the fuck is DNA?! And who put all this math in here?! Computers?!?!?!’ And the fact that this conference is in Canada isn’t lost on me, either. I need to be mentally prepared just to walk the streets! It’s no secret that Canadians drink Molson until they start killing without rhyme, reason, or mercy, and I’ve seen what moose can do to people. I once saw a dude try to feed a moose a carrot. You know what the moose did? He shot him. Moose* pulled a .45 out of his fanny pack and gunned the guy down, then got into the guy’s car and drove off with his wife. I’ve also seen Strange Brew and Canadian Bacon. I totally believe all the stereotypes.
So, yes. Having seemingly conquered my A-type zeal for the pursuit of perfection and success at all costs, it would seem that I now have to deal with my A-type zeal for the pursuit of allowing the hamster on the wheel in my brain to stop running, have a seat, and eat Twinkies until I’m a worthless pile of goo.
* I know what some people might be asking: ‘How do you know it was a Canadian moose? What, like, American moose don’t kill people, then drive off with their dead prey’s spouse?’ First of all, I know the moose was Canadian because the moose’s fanny pack had a flag with a maple leaf embroidered on it. And second of all, no. American moose allow time for the spouse to mourn before making their advances. I know this is true because Bullwinkle was an American moose and Bullwinkle had scrupples (he could also pull a rhino out of a hat), not to mention a flying squirrel as a friend and moral compass. If all else failed, I trust that Rocky would enforce discretion in a situation involving gunplay.
Sir @ July 19, 2008
yeah, me too. in a week i have to take the exams that will certify me for my present job. everybody has told me they will be a piece of cake for me so, for once in my life, i seem to have believed them. leaving me a week to “brush up.” on my job. job? let’s see, i know i had a job around here somewhere…
That’s the problem with societies with strict gun laws. When you make owning a gun criminal, then only the moose have guns.
I, too, was invited to The Big-ass Conference of Smart People Who Do Science Junk, 2008.
But, meh, I’m in neutral so maybe next time…
From one worthless pile of goo to another, how long did it take you to get your Masters? I’m headed for mine starting August 25th. But all I want to do is watch TV on DVD and eat burritos.
e: Bah. You’ll be fine. And if not, just tell them that you’ve been doing your job pretty well so far without the certification, so they can take their stinking certification and shove it. Or maybe be a little more tactful with the part about the shoving of ‘it’.
Jenny: You’re right, but try to tell the idiots in the anti-gun lobby that. They just won’t listen to reason where armed moose are concerned and frankly it makes me sick.
JenBun: You should’ve gone! I hear the kegger on the first night is wicked awesome.
Ashley: Normally, they take two years. Mine took 2.5 years because I took a few extra classes in order to do my junk and they had mercy on me by giving me an extra semester to write the thesis. As for the TV/burrito situation, I know exactly what you mean. I consider myself lucky that I didn’t find Hulu.com until after I was finished, because that place is a friekin’ time-sucking black hole (hmmm…redundant much?).
I’m determined to get mine in two, but we’ll see. Luckily Hulu doesn’t work that well with my apartment’s shitty internet, but I’m a Netflix whore, so it doesn’t really seem to matter. Constant queue of 500 movies — they own my soul.
I was completely prepared to believe it was a Canadian moose until I got to the part about the maple leaf flag sewn on the fanny pack. Now I think it must’ve been an American moose, traveling abroad (probably a recent college graduate desperately hanging on to freedom and irresponsibility for awhile before succumbing to life at a dull desk job that his uncle had lined up for him), trying to pass as a Canadian so as not to get baited into discussions about American politics.
You need to get stuff done? OK then. Go on. Get busy. I’m just gonna sit here drinking wine until you’re finished.
The Big-ass Conference of Smart People Who Do Science Junk sounds too intimidating for me to even think about. I am shifting into neutral to think about something else–video games, probably.
Jamelah: I’ve actually met Canadian moose traveling abroad that go out of their way to sport some sort of Canadian-flag flair so that they won’t be mistaken for Americans. The reasons for this activity are too numerous to mention here, except that I have frequently found myself in positions abroad where I desperately wished that I’d had some Canadian flair to wear. In contrast, Americans that deserve a wide berth are those that wear their own flag-based flair and TALK LIKE THIS BECAUSE THEY’RE FROM AMERICA AND PROBABLY TEXAS BECAUSE TEXAS IS NOT TO BE MESSED WITH WHERE CAN WE GET A DECENT STEAK IN THIS COUNTRY (transcript taken from actual second-hand experience).
Shari: Wino.
Heather Anne: I would think that it would take more to intimidate someone who willingly posts pictures of themselves sporting a Batman outfit at age 8. The willingness to wear such a thing at all actually qualifies you for fitting in nicely around science pukes.
The footnote in this post, much like in ANY Terry Pratchett book in the disc world series was the best thing on the page.
Enjoyed the whole post, but the footnote actually made me laugh loudly and say oh Gawd and laugh some more. (also loved the title)
The hamster sitting down was a great visual too. Did HE take time for a summer read? Maybe something with scantilly clad rodents cavorting on the cover?
Ah Sir you surprise me,
you moderate your comments……I was EDITED yesterday online when I left a comment. I kinda wish that the blog owner had decided not to post any of my comment…. instead they chose to edit it and pretty much kill the idea…..and remove the funniest part… freedom of speech be damned..where ARE my scissors…