How to See a Whale Part 1

I’d like to see a whale. But not just any whale—a North Atlantic right whale. There are fewer than 500 left in the world according to the New England Aquarium, fewer than 430 by other accounts, and I’d like to see one.

My heart hurts for the North Atlantic right whale. The whales were called the right whale, because they were the right whale to kill during commercial whaling's heyday--they're slow-moving, float when killed rather than sink and have lots of fat. Right off the bat, this breaks my heart and makes me feel ineffable poignant heartbreak and love. They’re the underdog. And they’re not doing well right now.

According to National Geographic, no new calves have been seen out of this past breeding season. It's possible there are calves that have just not been accounted for, but so far none have been seen.

I don’t know why I want to see one so badly, but the moment I started putting this out into the Universe, the Universe replied. My uncle sent me a message that he’d take us out to search for whales this summer and my dad told me he has 4 Whale Watch tickets and 2 to Codzilla. I’m going to see a right whale this summer. I just have to figure out how. In the meantime, I’m going to learn about the whale.

What I learned today from my book, Disappearing Giants: The North Atlantic Right Whale by Scott Kraus and Kenneth Mallory:

The North Atlantic Right Whale is a baleen whale. There are two types of whale—baleen and toothed and the right while is baleen, as I said.

The North Atlantic Right Whales eat copepods.

The North Atlantic Right Whales hang out near me in Massachusetts in the Cape Cod waters. Their migrations take them from Canada's Bay of Fundy, through Cape Cod waters, all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico sometimes.

Version Control of Life

I create so much detritus. I gather and create quotes, to-do lists, receipts, coupons, recipes. Nothing has a home so it's just swirling about and landing on surface area everywhere, surface area that we don't have at home. I have diaries from kindergarten through today taking up three shelves in the bedroom, a milk crate in the office, pockets of all my bags and my bedroom at my dad's house. I have three email accounts and a total of 14,045 unread emails among them. My name is all sorts of strange combinations everywhere now that I'm married. Introducing myself, I'm never sure which one is going to come out of my mouth.

I often feel like the walls are closing in on me. Which Sara am I? And where is that recipe for fried chicken that Dan's uncle gave me?

I have no answers other than this: Giving in to the techno-panic is how the demons win. The winner isn't going to be the one who replies to all 14,045 emails the fastest. The winner is going to be the person who figures out how to use technology in the best way possible. To use it to create peace and ease of life, rather than hysteria and detritus.