Prelude

There are times in life that we have periods of great change, times we will look back upon and remember all our lives. Times of starting over, times of rebirth. At 23 years old, I find myself at the first of these times. Here is my story.



This tale starts at the end of high school for me, but that is not the focus. It's just a background for you to see where I'm coming from. The summer after graduation was spent in upstate New York with my boyfriend, Keely. We stayed with his father and step-family while working at the axe-throwing game at the Renaissance festival. I was having a hard time emotionally but Fest was great fun, and I learned how to throw a battle axe into a target 20' away. Upon reflection, the targets seemed to be at crotch-height rather than head-, but I think it would stop a man in his tracks just the same.

The six months after returning home are some what of a blur for me, probably because I was miserable. I was taking courses at a local technical college and hating every bit of it. Part of this was because I was unable to ride horses, which is my greatest passion in life and also an incredibly expensive past time. I got a job at a large, commercial pet store to pay for my car, and did enjoy parts of that job. The less savory elements included cannibalistic hampsters and the lady who killed seven guinea pigs in 3 weeks. You've seen the face of the devil when you've found a hampster who has eaten out the inards of another and is using the remaining skin-and-bone carcass as a food dish for seeds it has collected. Don't let their little beady eyes fool you; hampsters are vicious tribal fiends. Even the babies. Imagine selling a fluffy little pipsqueak to an innocent child, knowing that the creature devoured its own littermate ALIVE that very morning. Anyway.

I made the decision to go on to Sweet Briar College, a rather exclusive women's school in Virginia, that fall. I had deferred enrollment for a year because I was so burned out from high school, but dinner with a good friend during the depressing technical school saga had made me reconsider and given me a new view on my education. SBC had the added bonus of a very good equestrian program. Partially because of this, I opted to have surgery before heading to school. It was a very good decision and I don't regret it one iota, but it did set me up for some troubles at school.

In the end, it was the Virginia heat that did me in. My stitches dissolved early because I was sweating so much, and I was banned from any physical activity for a month, which meant no riding for the semester. I was devastated. It didn't help that my two best friends both rode, as well as most everyone in my dorm, so it wasn't something I could easily ignore. Nonetheless, I was doing very well in my studies, even earning the only "A" on the first paper of the term for my British history class. I adored my professors and the only problem was deciding whether to major in Latin, the classics, or history, or maybe all three.

Yet it was not to be. Around mid-term, I fell ill with mono (probably because of my weakened immune system from the surgery) and had to drop out. (Someday I'll share the story of how I shipped my aquarium of fish all the way back to MN, but that is for another day). I was sick for almost 2 years, unable to do anything except rest in bed or watch television. A single outing to the grocery store could flatten me for a week. It was especially hard because few people understood how deeply ill I was, since I could go out occasionally for a bite to eat with them and only look tired. They wouldn't see the next few days when I would sleep for 22 hours straight and not even be able to shower because of the exhaustion. It was an unhappy time and I was in a place of extreme depression. I also lost my scholarships and ended up with a good chunk of debt because I had dropped out. Hooray.

To make a long story short, I was a little too broke and feeling too old at 21 to try and start the dorm life again, so I took a different approach and thought to incorporate my love of horses with my desire to own my own business. I enrolled in farrier school to learn how to shoe horses. One can make a very decent living from doing that, and I had a good business plan to market specifically to the more elite equestrian di$cipline$.

But it, too, was not to pass. The day before class started, I had a seizure. First ever in my life and hopefully the last. They think it was a combination of stress, fatigue (mono has left me with a need for more rest than most people), and a medication I was taking. I considered myself "well" at this point in time, and over mono, but this seizure really set me back, physically. I was unable to cope with the rigors of shoeing horses for 4 hours a day in the afternoon summer heat, nor did the doctors allow me to work over a forge in the morning in case I had another episode. In a word, I was screwed. I learned enough that I could probably trim my own horses, but not enough to make a business from it. Additionally, I had that super installment loan to pay off, so it looked as though I had to get a job.

So around December of '06, I signed on with a temping agency that placed me at SoundPoint Audiology, a growing hearing aid company with clinics in 18 locations across four states. I worked in the corporate headquarters, at first answering calls and scheduling patients, and then moving back into more administrative-type tasks where I finally took over all of the claims filing for the company (or, as I like to call myself, "insurance nazi"). I worked there for over a year until the house sold and we started on our trip

That "we" is my mother and I. I moved back in with her while I had mono. She is an accountant/aspiring full time writer and artist. We both had trials and tribulations during these past couple years and have come to the mutual conclusion that what ever life is supposed to be, this ain't it. I am at a loss of where I should turn next, or what venture I should set upon, or if I should just give up my notions of the future and settle down where I am. Nothing seems right except that I'm done waiting for my dreams to fall into my lap; it's time to go out and chase some.

So we sold the house (which is an epic tale in and of its own right) and are going on an adventure across the country. We will soon acquire a travel trailer and whisk about where ever the wind blows us. After 23 years in Minnesota, I'm damn sick of winter, so the first stop is down south to the Mexican border, a few miles from the Gulf. I think I'll work on my tan.

Other tentative plans include the Pacific Northwest, New England, and a few spots in between. I'm not sure who we'll find or what we'll do, but it looks to be a thrilling route. We plan to paint, draw, write, meditate, and muse along the way. I will share some of these as they come to me. We're also taking our two dogs, my cockatiel, and 8 fish, so as to complete the gypsy image.

There are folks to visit, vistas to view, and a nation to explore. This blog will be both a log of my travels and an opportunity to share and connect with the rest of the world. Please feel free to comment if you'd like.

Cheers,
Amber