Fishing with the Doctor

No economics today, but a bit of story time perhaps?

The family had the privilege of staying in a condo at Islamorada, one of the Florida Keys. To the delight of the Doctor, the island is known for fantastic sport fishing. Almost every day, he would wake up a few hours earlier than the rest of the family-most awoke around 11:00 am-and spend the morning fishing and reading his Bible.

One late night by the pool-most of us went to bed around 1:00 am-I joined the good Doctor in a brief evening fishing session. I quickly learned which way not to reel in a fish and how one can very quickly render a fishing line utterly useless. Thank God for the spare! I also decided never to use the now gut-covered nail clipper that Dad brought on the trip. Enough said about that.

Before I retired from my short-lived fishing career, Dad caught an eight inch sea bass. 

"Ah, this one's small," he said after unhooking its mouth. "Grow up!" 

As the fish plopped back in the water, I mused that fishing is fairly similar to dating. 

1. People are attracted to one another by some means or other, may it be through physical beauty, interesting personality, or even convenience or proximity. There are so many supply and demand connections here that I could spend hours on...
2. They take the bait, or conversely, reel it in, perhaps both parties not knowing what they are really in for.
3. Through some form of trial and error, however brief or extended, one or both of the involved parties decide whether or not to pursue the relationship. Keep it, or throw 'em back over your shoulder for something else?

So far, I haven't had a whole lot of dating experience in my time. Let's face it, you only meet so many people by the time you are 21! But what I have learned is that I haven't stopped "growing up." As soon as I overcome one hurdle, another edges onto the horizon. I'm a huge believer in the cliche that "life is a journey." Dating is no different. Every experience is part of the learning process. Embrace the learning!

What's on the current docket o' development? Most recently, I'm coming to terms with my youth by learning a little humility. I acknowledge that I have much yet to understand, both about myself and relationships. It may be inconvenient at times, but it's not a moral dilemma to be "a work in progress." It can, however, be a huge blessing for someone you trust to encourage you to "grow up!" Regardless, it's most beneficial to listen to them and JUST DO IT! (Yes, thank you, Nike).

As far as I heard, there were no plaque-worthy catches, but my dear ol' dad gave me a lot to think about. Perhaps I will put "Grow up" on a plaque!

Running Lady

The public high school nestled in the center of the borough serves five districts. During my four years at this school, it seemed as if there was an even distribution of family incomes represented by the student body. My cohort, of the 450 students in my class, included 100 or so students who enrolled in AP classes for the better part of their high school experience. I'd estimate that the majority of these kids would be excluded from free tuition were they to be accepted at Harvard.


For this reason, it's not uncommon to see high school students, obviously still in puberty, hurtling down the road in their parents' late model BMW X5 or Lexus RX 330. My vehicle of choice was a 2000 Toyota Sienna XLE, a very, very late model soccer mom-mobile, may it rest in peace. Back in high school, I had the privilege of driving this fine "desert sand" vehicle to and from school. Without fail, my copilot, Miss Diva-in-Training would push our departure closer and closer to 7:15, the last possible minute to leave and still be on time. We would hurtle down the hill at 40 miles per hour in rain or snow, for there are no other weather patterns where I live. It is during these briefer and briefer trips that I found my idol, Running Lady.


Every morning, we would pass a tall, thin blonde woman in her late fifties happily jogging on the side of the road with a happy yellow lab. She was always stylishly dressed in the latest activewear, presumably from lululemon. I assume this because it is expensive, but worth every penny, but I digress. There she was, a vision of middle-aged fitness in lavender and black. After accidentally nearly killing her a few times, I knew that I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. That and alive.


With this in mind, I was very excited to begin my journey to be like my role model and start running again. I noticed that the local drunk kids prefer Nikolai liquor, whatever that is, as evident by a count of two bottles within two miles. I am also very proud to report (again, I know) that during my 6+ mile run, I only walked up one hill, which was vertical. Good for me! So far, no shin splints and the hips and knees are feeling fine. I like to think that I am well on my way to achieving my goal.


Running Lady (I bet your name is Marsha), wherever you are, may you live a long and accident-free life! May your joints never wear out and may your dog always be happy and well-hydrated!

What did mama say?

Back in high school, MBAMama required that we children set boundaries. Not boundaries in dating, though that probably is applicable to most children who date humans rather than AP textbooks, but boundaries in time management.

What did Mama say: "Choose one activity that you can do really well and stick to it."

What did Mama mean: "Find some way to be the BEST."

In real life, this manifested itself through a series of endeavors that became a series of life lessons in which we as kids learned to overcommit ourselves in order to find out what we really loved. For me, this meant realizing that I wouldn't be an olympic swimmer any time soon. I'm sorry, Michael Phelps, but you will have to find someone else to marry. In order to pursue that dream, I spent an excess of 20 hours per week slaving away in the distance lane-God bless 'em-in order to end up with a permanently damaged shoulder. It wasn't as terrible as all that sad and grossly exaggerated description, but in some ways, I did waste my time with things that I wasn't that good at doing.

Perhaps the Doctor said it better: "Do something you love. Go to work and be at play. Find your passion. If you can do that, then it's never 'work.'"

So, here is the transformation that the EconGirl underwent:

What did I start doing in high school? Forensics, Latin Club, Fall Play, Model United Nations, Orchestra, Swimming, Crew, AP classes, and friendships on the side.

What did I end up doing in high school? Forensics, On-camera performance/production, AP classes, and friendships on the side.

Almost as naturally as spring steps back to be replaced by summer, my overcommitment became very fortunately unsustainable. I figured out that I didn't want to do it all. I couldn't do it all. I learned that in many of these activities, I hadn't really liked what I was doing, and I didn't miss it when I stopped. I learned not to be afraid of the less resume-worthy activities. I learned to play.

Even as a college junior, I'm still working on figuring out what MBAMama really meant sometimes, but I caught on fast with this one.