As many of you have probably noticed, Yow Yow! has taken a back seat in the last couple of weeks. My first and one true love – my job has consumed much of my time lately, but this isn’t the first time we’ve been here. Over brunch, I started to share with Kevin about how little time I’ve spent writing. If it were up to me, I’d make time every night for it. However, after a long nine-hour day, every day, my brain doesn’t have the energy to even string words together in a sentence. “Is the blog done?” Kevin asked. It’s not, but it prompted me to consider how much further I could take this.
There’s a few more chapters that I haven’t covered in my life that I hope to hit someday, but does it need to be shared? One of those chapters that I’ve pondered is kids. Will I have them or opt out? Does Yow Yow! then become a blog for moms and parents? This trickled down to another topic. I promise I’m getting to the point here. As blog owners, we have ultimate control of what we post and when we post. Those in our lives – family, friends, etc. don’t always get a say about whether or not they can be excluded. So who steps in for the kids?
I read a funny article the other day about a teenage daughter who asked her mom to stop posting about her on her blog and Instagram account. The daughter had a point here! She wasn’t wrong at all and the mother refusing just came off as a little immature to me. There is this boundary that I think about for when kids are in that cute phase vs. when kids figure out what’s going on and want out. It’s not fair to them that they have to have their life documented every step of the way even if their parents choose that path for themselves.
I recently started following an SF mom blogger this year who has an adorable young daughter named Marni. They have the cutest adventures going shopping and eating at restaurants I want to eat at. Her parents began making stickers of her facial expressions and selling them. I’m an owner of her classic “side eye” sticker which I proudly display on the back of my phone case. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t wonder what Marni will think about when she looks back on this in her life. I recently adopted a practice. In the last couple of years, my friends have started having kids of their own. If I’m ever around their kids and they’re being cute, it’s a habit to film a quick video or snap a photo for Instagram Stories. It happens so fast, I don’t even think about it! These days, I ask permission. It’s as simple as saying, “I took this photo/video, are you okay with me posting it?”
I get responses on both sides. Ultimately though, I need to respect that parents are doing what is best for their kids and while I’m okay with my life out in the world, many people don’t wish the same.
When it comes to my girlfriends getting married, I am all in. You want me to bike around a city doing physical activity and collecting jugs of alcohol? Sign me up. The following day includes kayaking in the rain? Sure! Just to be clear, none of this is what I normally do in my free time, but for one of my oldest friends, you won’t even know it’s my first time.
Flying out to Bend was my first trip since I started my new job and I was a little nervous, but grateful that I could spend it with Sam especially having missed her elopement. The weekend started with everyone arriving to the house and every time someone got there, a shot was taken by the group. How we survived the weekend, I’ll never know. It was not only my most physical weekend, but my most hydrated one as well.
Given the fact that I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, Bend wasn’t a city I had ever traveled to. In my opinion, it’s a low key Portland. Everyone seemed relaxed; the pace was slower, but in comparison to San Francisco, I’d say that about any city. I had forgotten how much I loved spending time outdoor and our weekend was full of that. On our last night out, we brought the bride to the club and I was seriously concerned that I’d miss my early flight out the next morning. Here’s the PG-rated version of my trip in photos:
You don’t even have to read this post to know that I am so completely over these Instagram experiential events. That is written all over my face in this photo. And honestly, when you’ve been to four of them, you’ve been to all of them. At the time, Elisa and I didn’t know if [Candytopia] was going to be our last hurrah, but that much was clear when we got to the end. If I had to rank them, [29Rooms] would be my favorite and Candytopia would be my least favorite.
I recognize that there is so much work that goes into putting these events on, but my biggest qualm is the ticket price. As customers, you are paying a high fee for something that feels quite cheap. These weren’t even close to feeling like real marshmallows! By the end of this run, I realized that what I’m also paying for is germs. Yes, these were created for Instagram shots, but the other audience is children. We’ve simply out grown this phase in our lives and I’m pleased to share that this will be our last one. The only one I’d ever repeat again is 29Rooms, but mostly because it goes beyond Instagram. The content and purpose of each room has been well thought out. While some were created just for fun, others have a stronger message tied to it and touches on current events going on socially and politically.
Candytopia has since come and gone! Elisa and I participated in this when it first opened back in September, but now the exhibit has moved on to Houston.
It isn’t easy to watch things like this, but when I come across something that is beautifully done and that I haven’t seen before, it feels wrong to not share it. I felt a lump in my throat the entire duration. There were even parts where I had to pause the video and return to it later. It has been a long time since I’ve had to do that. Columbine was the first major school shooting that I could remember growing up. At the time, I was 9 years old. I hate that the frequency of school shootings today have become our new normal and it broke my heart to learn of the one even this week. Why a change has yet to be made is still beyond me.