Well, how can I fully explain last week? Last Thursday, I took my last final exam ever – unless, of course, someone wants to pay for a graduate degree program or PhD. Frankly, it is amazing. I attended Michigan State from 1999-2004 – and then Delta College and Saginaw Valley State University to obtain my teaching certificate (2014-2016). When I started my teaching career, I almost immediately decided that I wanted to add an English endorsement to my social studies and Spanish secondary endorsements. Back to school I went from 2019, class by class and in the middle of a pandemic, until last week. I am done. Now that my grade is finalized, I will finally be able to add the English endorsement (secondary) to my teaching certificate. In fact, I already applied to have it added.
So, what’s next? Well, after this summer, I am not entirely sure. We will see where things take me come fall. I have several ideas. For now, I am in the midst of getting the canoe livery ready for the summer. Starting May 15th, I will be working there full-time once again. I’ve actually been taking reservations at home all winter. People are eager to get out on the river! As I say so many times, we have the best customers. I love thinking about how many memories have been made at our campgrounds and on the RIfle River over the decades.
RIght now, I couldn’t be in a better place. I wrapped up so many loose ends over the last academic year and did exactly what I set out to do. I have so many great options in front of me. I finally feel ready to move on. Stay tuned!
Teddy Roosevelt is easily one of my favorite Presidents.
Sometimes I question whether or not Dad realizes what an example he set for his children – or at least me, as I can’t speak for my brother or sister. He, along with my mom, spent the last nearly 46 years owning and operating Russell Canoe Livery and Campgrounds, Inc. and are still actively involved in the business. They purchased the canoe livery from my paternal grandmother, Judy Reid, in June 1977, a few months prior to their wedding. Growing up in and with the business, I saw firsthand what my parents and grandparents did to grow the business, including the sacrifices they made.
As a child, whenever anyone asked what my dad did for a living, my response of “he owns a campground and canoe livery” fascinated many. As the canoe livery developed, Dad focused on creating a business that not only worked around our family life – it complimented my mom’s teaching career and our school schedules well. It also allowed him to pursue his hobbies of hunting and fishing in a way impossible for most people.
I admit it: I know more about hunting and fishing than any non-hunter, non-fisherwoman I know. All thanks to Dad. I grew up feeding Beagle hunting dogs used for rabbit hunting; with various mounts in our basement; and learning what a Pope and Young record meant, once my dad killed a Canadian black bear with a bow and arrow. That bear now infamously resides in our main office/store in Omer, a legend in his own right.
This guy gets a lot of attention during the summer months, holding down the fort in our office. Russell Canoe Livery, Omer, Michigan
As a young child, when I asked Dad why he hunted deer, he took the time to give me the full, true explanation. At six years old, he explained how deer hunting helps control the deer population in Michigan. If they weren’t hunted, there would be many more car/deer accidents, and they could become over-populated, causing starvation and disease. I have never forgotten that lesson. Even though I am no hunter myself, I have no issue with it – as long as rules are followed and as much of the animal is used as possible.
What I admire most about my dad is how he was able to create a life for himself in which he prioritized what he wanted out of life – and it wasn’t money – it was about lifestyle. Even though he didn’t directly use his degree in wildlife biology in his career – he didn’t become a conservation officer – that knowledge allowed him to more fully understand what was needed to become a better hunter and fisherman. Dad’s passion for his hobbies, even today in his 70s, still inspires me.
Dad and Me – Camp Russell 1981, with his first bear.
What I’ve long realized is that I am just as passionate about reading and writing. He may not see it or recognize the correlation, but I do. It is the reason why I earned my writing certificate from Delta College, took additional humanities courses when possible, joined Mid Michigan Writers, attended several writing workshops, and so much more. Everyone should be so lucky. I am never bored. I am eternally grateful that my dad was able to find a way to make it all work and set an example for me to follow. Per usual, I’m just doing things the “hard” way. I will get there … eventually.
Have you ever fallen so in love with a place that you still dream about it years later – and you fall so in love with your memories of that particular time and place that you instinctively know that reality will never come close to what you remember? It can happen. In 2002, I fell in love with Austin, Texas. In reality, I fell in love with a time and place that no longer exists.
It started out innocently enough. When I began planning my year abroad – one semester in Quito, Ecuador and another in Caceres, Spain – I knew that I would also need to make plans for the summer after Spain. I lucked out. The spring of my sophomore year at Michigan State, I landed a position as a paid intern at IBM in Rochester, Minnesota. I must have been on a roll that semester because I also landed a paid co-op opportunity (6 month contract) with Applied Materials (AMAT) in Austin, Texas. Ultimately, I accepted the position with IBM and asked Applied Materials if I could pursue the co-op opportunity the following summer/fall. They said yes, and I left East Lansing for a series of adventures that would take me away from campus for over a year and a half. I was well on my way to pursuing several of my dreams at once, including a career in tech.
My time in Austin did not start off well. When I arrived in June 2002, I didn’t know anyone. I ended up subletting my first apartment from a UT student. It was OK, but my only roommate in our four bedroom apartment spent all of her time with her boyfriend. Often the only trace of Carly was the reeking skunk smell of pot. Soon, things would change.
The first week or two at Applied consisted of orientation classes and touring facilities in what’ve been loving termed bunny suits. What I loved about AMAT was their place in the tech industry. We didn’t make the chips; we made the machines that make the chips. After a long day of orientation, an engineer I’d just met, Melissa, asked if I wanted to go get a drink and have dinner after work. Little did I know just how much she would impact my time in Austin.
Melissa and I became fast friends over dinner. Once I began describing my experiences studying abroad in Ecuador and Spain, she began telling me about her former coworker at Motorola, Andy, a fellow engineer. She thought that we should met, and frankly, I think she was trying to set us up. There was only one catch: Andy was currently exploring Machu Picchu in Peru and wouldn’t be home for some time. It would be worth the wait.
In the meantime, on July 24th, 2002, on my way to work, a huge moving truck made a left-hand turn in front of me when I had the green light. He hadn’t seen me. In the accident, I broke my big toe and the metatarsal. The molding on the driver’s side door of my car also sliced me behind my ear. If I had had a passenger, he or she probably would not have survived. In the aftermath of the accident, things somehow came together. My mom flew out to Austin to help me find a lawyer and a new car. She couldn’t believe how well I knew the city even though I had only been there just over a month. I had to help navigate in the days before Google Maps due to my cast.
By the time I had a walking cast, all bets were off. I quickly found out that the six month sublease I’d been promised was really only for three. Livid, I needed a new place to live within a few weeks. In the end, I found a much better place to live just in time thanks to Applied Material’s internal listings. The months living with Karen and her toddler son were great. It was almost as if I had the good fortune to live with a fun aunt for several months. Things were finally looking up.
In all the chaos of the accident and moving, I finally met Andy. We ended up on a blind date at the type of place that could only exist in Austin – Flipnotics. The first floor was a quirky retail t-shirt shop. The second floor included a restaurant/bar with a small performance space for live music. We were there for the music. I wish I had a video of Andy’s face when I opened my car door. He was horrified to realize that I had a walking cast up to my knee and that he had invited me to a venue requiring climbing a large set of stairs. Fortunately, we hit it off right away.
One of the best things about Austin, then and now, is the live music. It isn’t called the live music capital of the world for nothing. Andy was the perfect companion with whom to check it all out. It turns out that as a hobby Andy had a radio show – ATX Live – on the local co-op radio station KOOP. Soon I would met his friend and manager Cheryl. Andy would later serve as president of KOOP for several years. It isn’t every day that a man you admire and respect introduces you to someone who soon becomes one of your best friends. That is precisely what happened.
Over the next few months, Andy, Cheryl, and I had numerous adventures. I admit, I had a huge crush on Andy by this time. Cheryl did her best to try to get us to end up together, but it wasn’t meant to be. However, the fun I had that late summer and fall are never to be forgotten. The three of us attended the first Austin City Limits Festival in Zilker Park. Cheryl “conveniently” couldn’t join us the second day. The antics that took place that weekend are stories in themselves that belong with other songs. At the end of the festival, Andy and I ended up at a favorite local restaurant called Shady Grove. As it was within walking distance of the festival, we had to order takeout and eat/drink on the lawn, it was that crowded.
Andy and I on the lawn of Shady Grove. – August 2002 First Annual Austin City Limits Festival
Later, Andy had LASIK surgery, and unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned. He ended up blinded for a week. As it was near his birthday, Cheryl and I threw him a party at his house once he regained his sight. I finally got to meet a bunch of his friends, coworkers, etc. It ended with Andy having to smooth things over with local cops late in the evening. Our “dress to be seen”/birthday party was a complete success.
As Halloween approached, Andy asked if I wanted to go to a house party hosted by local musician Chelle Murrey. Once we arrived, I dressed as a gypsy and Andy dressed as Zorro, Andy told me that he had a surprise for me. It turned out that a Beatles’ tribute band were going to play at the party, and knowing that I was a Beatles’ fan, he wanted me to have the opportunity to check them out first. I will never forget it. I bought Chelle’s CD that evening, and even though the music hasn’t quite held up, it will always remind me of Austin.
Shortly after one more party – this time a birthday/going home/Christmas party for me in mid-December at Karen’s house – I had to pack up my new-to-me 2002 silver Grand Prix and make the long journey home – alone. I arrived back in Michigan right before my birthday and Christmas. A year and half and a thousand adventures later, I would be returning to Michigan State in January 2003 to finish my degrees. I would graduate in May 2004. I never wanted to leave Austin behind.
Chelle Murrey’s album Uncomplicated
On December 15th, 2002, a cold, foggy day in Austin, I left, listening to Chelle Murrey, trying to keep it all together. Austin represented everything I wanted after graduation – a good job, great friends, beautiful place to live, and for the first time in my life, a social life that actually felt like me.
My senior year at MSU, I did everything in my power to land in Austin. I made it to second round interviews with both Dell and Applied Materials. Unfortunately, my manager at AMAT left a few weeks before I did. He didn’t even get a chance to do my review before he left, that was left to someone I had only known for a week. In essence, I had no one on the inside fighting for me. Only half of the engineers and supply chain grads were hired. Sadly, I wasn’t one of them.
I did put my time back in Austin to good use, however. I met up with Andy and finally told him how I felt. In essence, he told me that he viewed me as a little sister. He explained that he was at a completely different stage in life. At 22, devastated doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. Looking back, I completely understand where he was coming from at that point. At 29 and about to finish his MBA, he already owned his own home and was established in his career. I still needed to finish undergrad.
It is funny how I should have seen it coming. He bought me a cowgirl hat at the Austin City Limits Festival because he was afraid I was going to fry otherwise. As cold weather set in, he warned me about trying to drive on ice in Texas. In essence, I may know how to drive on ice being from Michigan, but others in Texas do not. My dad would have been impressed.
Today, Andy is married and still lives in Austin, now owning his own business. I’d love to track down Cheryl. I have a feeling that if we were able to catch up after all these years, it would be as if no time had passed at all. The only person with whom I am in contact is Karen, who keeps reminding me from time to time that Austin has changed – and not for the better.
In essence, this is a love letter to the Austin I knew in 2002. Some of my favorite landmarks and haunts, namely Flipnotics and Shady Grove, no longer exist. I still follow AMAT and the semiconductor industry. How could I not after 2020? The Austin City Limits Festival has grown beyond all recognition. I can only imagine how the city has changed and evolved. I just hope that it is still as weird as I remember and remains a welcoming place for young undergrads trying to find their place in the adult world. Those memories of Austin will always be a part of me.
If I have learned anything over the last few weeks, it is that I crave structure. I need it to be productive. I am slowly working on getting back into some type of routine as everything has shifted over the last couple of weeks. Right now, I’m not even sure what it would look like.
I’d love to put tons of time and energy into my Google Classroom now, but Michigan just closed schools for the rest of the school year. Up until this point, I was unable to assign anything for a grade. I could share things I would like my students to look at and do, but that was about it. I did come across some great stuff that I will be using with my students moving forward. Unfortunately, that is the point. Until we can figure out what distance learning will look like at our school, I’m not sure how we will handle students without out devices and internet access. Hopefully, we will know more next week and will be able to move on from there.
I miss and worry about my students. My heart breaks for my 8th graders who will be heading off to high school next year. Will they be ready? We did not get to send them off in the way they need to be sent off – not yet, anyway. I worry less about 6th and 7th graders. I can put things in place to help us fill in gaps next year. It may not be fun, but it might be necessary. I still miss them though, and they are certainly missing out on so much. When we left school on Friday, March 13th – a day I will never forget – I was in the middle of planning a field trip to the Michigan Science Center and the Detroit Institute of Arts. My 6th graders were also supposed to go to Lansing on another field trip in early May – a field trip that never happened last year. 8th graders are also missing out on their last dance, usually put on by 7th grade. Not to mention track and field day, the last events surrounding Lent and Easter, and the wonderful chaos that is the last week of the school year. Oh, and I could cry when I think of what we had planned for March is reading month, most of which never took place, including Prime Time Live Friday Night (originally slated for that ill-fated Friday the 13th) and a poetry café, among so much else.
Then there are the student council events. I am the student council advisor, and my students pleaded with me to plan an end of year event. A trip to an escape room and laser tag were in the works. We were also supposed to have a carnival for younger students during March is reading month, all sponsored and put on by student council. I’m now trying to figure out how we are going to do elections for next year, which take place every spring. I may be able to come up with something there. The point is that everyone who works in or deals with education day-in, day-out – teachers, administrators, volunteers, staff, parents, and certainly students – lost so much over these last few weeks.
I feel as though that goes double for students in Catholic schools. I am not Catholic, and I do not teach religion, but I know what my students are missing at a time when they could use their faith the most. They need guidance when it comes to faith formation, and that is what they are lacking now. I keep thinking … 20 years from now, how I will I explain these times to my students? There are times when I feel at a loss when I try discussing September 11th with current students who were born longer after 2001.
This is not what I wanted or dreamed for my first full year teaching. It just isn’t. I do hope that next year will bring a “normal” year. During the 2018-2019 school year, those of us in Michigan experienced a record number of “cold”/snow days. Something no one experienced before. Now this. I think everyone could use a return to “normal” at this point.
Then there is the canoe livery. Fortunately for us, we don’t truly begin to get busy until the end of June, early July. August keeps getting busier and busier every year. This time of year, we get things ready for opening on Memorial Weekend. We will see what happens. While we can make some progress, in other ways, it is difficult. For example, I can’t finish ordering our t-shirts and sweatshirts at this point. Would it be wise to do so right now with so much uncertainty? Same goes for other merchandise in our stores.
There are so many summer scenarios that are running through my head. I can’t help but think we’d be especially busy if things start returning to normal by early June. If it is towards the end of June, that might put more pressure on already extremely busy weekends. Should we extend our season? Time will tell.
I do know that I will survive. My family will survive. The canoe livery will survive. We’ve weathered so many storms in the past. I keep telling myself how bleak things looked in 2018 in the wake of massive 100-year flooding due to ice. We made it and came back better than ever. Eventually a path will be made clear, and there will be a new “normal.” We all just need to hold on until then.
It’s strange to think how much might change this summer. A week ago last Friday I finished my school year, and I have no idea what 2019-2020 will bring. Ideally, I will find a full-time teaching position teaching social studies, Spanish, or business at the middle school or high school level. It is long overdue. It is time for a classroom of my own, but where?
Unfortunately, this spring hasn’t exactly gone according to plan. Something always comes between me and my dreams. I finally find a place where I can easily see myself teaching, and in the end, I may not have the correct certification to apply for existing openings. While things are humming along at the canoe livery, the weather has not cooperated yet. We are waiting on customers. Where is everyone?
I know that things will come together, but it is the uncertainty that is getting to me. I wish I had something in place. I do not know what decision I will make if I do not find a full-time teaching position. Even though I do not plan or want to move, I may be left with no choice. Something’s got to give. Here’s to a summer of new beginnings!
There is no escaping it. This topic keeps rearing its ugly head. Last night, we discussed it in book club. Are people meant to be in a certain place? You can find my take on the topic here. That question keeps haunting me. What if somehow I missed my chance to be wherever it is I am supposed to be?
Am I supposed to live in Omer the rest of my life? I wish there were a simple answer. The reality is that there isn’t. I love my family, I’ve always wanted to be a part of the canoe livery, and I enjoy spending my summers working there. Yet, do I have what I need? Frankly, the answer is no. There are few people my age around, and those who are around are in a different stage of life. With one notable exception, all are married and/or have families of their own. It would be nice to at least have the possibility of dating in my future.
What are my alternatives? None of them are good. Either I deal with the issues before me and continue on this path, or I start over someplace new. If I stay, a part of me will always be someplace else. If I go, I would miss my family and the canoe livery. At least in Omer I am needed and loved.
The truth is I am going nowhere. The canoe livery and the Rifle River itself are too much a part of who I am. I want to watch my niece and nephews grow up firsthand, and I want to be there for my parents as they get older. None of that means that there aren’t sacrifices and complications that come with that decision. None of it changes the love/hate relationship I have with Omer and Arenac County in general.
What saddens me is the reality of where I live. Over the last two decades, so many people left not only Arenac County, but Michigan as well. Many were left with no choice thanks to a one-state recession followed by the Great Recession. I graduated in 1999, and due to the fact that so many classmates moved out of state, I doubt we will ever have a true class reunion. Most Michigan State business students I graduated with in 2004 headed to Arizona or Texas, including me. No one seems to care. Few planned on helping their children create a life for themselves here during that time frame and the years that followed.
While we may be on the path to recovery, we are not there yet. What bothers me is a general aura of denial that stubbornly resists any change. Yes, I agree we need change, but we also need to keep what is working – and there are things that are working. Unfortunately, we do not support those things. So many people seem to want to change nothing or change everything at once. Neither approach will work, but no one seems to address this.
What about businesses? What are we doing to attract new ones? Absolutely nothing I can see. No, instead we keep piling on more unnecessary regulations that do nothing except add costs. Instead of making it easier for those just starting out to get started in a career, we make it next to impossible. Today, we still tell high school seniors that a four year college degree should be the norm when we are setting them up for tens of thousands of dollars of debt before they even start their career. It is wrong and needs to stop. We need to attract more businesses and encourage trades. What about entrepreneurship? Again, we do little to support those who wish to start their own business. New businesses and new growth are exactly what we need, but they cannot survive if not supported.
I am angry. I want to believe in my hometown and live here, but many times, it feels next to impossible. If it weren’t for my family, I would have never looked back. I am tired of feeling torn, and I am fed up with everything else about the area pushing me away.
“Don’t wish your life away.” Among dozens of quotes I remember from my grandmother, that one sticks with me and forces me to keep going. Lately, I’ve realized I’ve been rushing around so much, trying to do everything all at once to the point I am not as effective as I could be.
I know what I want out of life: why don’t I have it already? I’ve put in the hours and made the sacrifices. It isn’t enough. I am so busy keeping it all from falling to pieces that I’m going too quickly to the next big thing: A squirrel trying to beat a blue jay at its own game at the bird feeder during a February deep freeze. It’s time to slow down and get it right.
So, what does it all mean? It means I am old enough to realize that some things take time to get right. There are times when shortcuts hinder you.
This past fall, I decided to say “yes” to as many things as possible. Even though I haven’t read Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes yet, the concept would not let me go. I took it to the next level in December in an attempt to stave off seasonal depression and recapture all of what I love about Christmas. The results were … mixed.
I loved every minute of each and every thing I did in December. I cherished every minute with my niece and nephews, my siblings and their significant others, my parents, extended family, and friends. But, there comes a time when you question your sanity. Are we doing this because we “should” or are we doing this because we truly want to? It is a legitimate question – and it deserves a full answer.
So, did it work? Yes, I had a ton of fun. Yes, I made a tons of memories with my family. But, I also came to the conclusion that less is more at times. Maybe I don’t need to go to two Christmas teas – although I probably will again next year. In the end, certain events were skipped. None of us can do it all.
Ever since January 1st, I’ve thought long and hard about how I want to approach this experiment going forward. As much as I disliked having so many snow days this year and sitting around being unable to work for a good chunk of January and February, it forced me to slow down. It forced me to rethink how I want to approach things this spring and moving forward.
Now, of course, I have the opposite problem – and probably will each spring the rest of my working life. Everything seems to happen at once. We are in the midst of getting ready for season #60 at the canoe livery, I’m subbing every day, and I will soon start a long-term subbing position that won’t end until early June. In midst of it all, I am ramping up the job search – a teaching position for next school year – and trying to once and for all get writing. I can do this. It is time to get intentional and concentrate on what truly matters. I need to slow down.
Ever since I left MSU’s beautiful campus a few days after my graduation on April 30th, 2004, I’ve longed to give back to my fellow Spartans. My years at Michigan State were among the best of my life, and that is due to the wonderful opportunities I had as an undergrad. Not only did I heavily participate in study abroad and alternative spring break programs, I later worked as a peer advisor in the Office of Study Abroad, now Office of Education Abroad.
Through the umbrella Multicultural Business Programs (MBP) organization, I became an active member of Multicultural Business Students (MBS), eventually serving as publicity chair on the executive board, and the Women in Business Association. In fact, my connections to MBP goes back even further to the summer after my junior year of high school. That summer, I attended the Broad Business Student Camp (BBSC) (created and run by MBP), and I fell in love. I fell in love with Michigan State’s campus and what I envisioned my college life could be.
BBSC wasn’t the only factor in my decision to attend MSU, but it left a powerful impression. A few years later, I served as a camp counselor for BBSC thanks to arrangements made with my employer at the time, IBM. When I arrived on campus in August 1999, eagerly pushing my parents’ out the door, I already had a home on one of the largest college campuses in the United States: MBP. This is just a snippet of some of the opportunities I took advantage of while at MSU. It is now time to give back.
Even though I wanted to give back, I am not in a position to give monetarily at the moment, nor do I think that would be the best way to do so. Fortunately, I happened to stumble across a couple of great opportunities.
In fall 2017, as an alum of the Eli Broad College of Business, I received an email outlining the Alumni Wisdom Project. In short, the project, a component of a communications course on campus, pairs current MSU business students with Broad alumni. It is meant to be a one-time face-to-face or Skype informational interview focusing on career and experiences at MSU. Students then complete the assignment for class and share what they have written with alumni. I loved my first experience, so I signed up for another. It is exactly the type of experience I was looking for that would allow me to somehow give back to current MSU students.
Spartans Helping Spartans
I only learned of Spartans Helping Spartans a few months ago when I responded to David Isbell’s LinkedIn comment asking if there were MSU alums who were interested in reconnecting with the university. Dave Isbell works in alumni relations at MSU. I met him online several years ago when I first moved back to Michigan.
After my initial interest in reconnecting with MSU, Dave and I spoke on the phone. He described the idea behind his website Spartans Helping Spartans – alumni sharing their experiences with current MSU students in an informal podcast format. I was hooked. In our conversation, he told me that he remembered a little about my background, and I filled him in on what I am currently doing. Next thing I know, he interviewed me for the podcast and my first podcast was born. Check it out below.
There is much more to come. I am currently writing a series of blog posts highlighting study abroad for Spartans Helping Spartans. I will share them once they are on the website. In addition, I have had such positive feedback from this podcast, I am toying with the idea of creating a podcast myself. Stay tuned. All because I said yes.
Beal Botanical Garden – Michigan State University, East Lansing, Michigan
Ah, Texas. Where do I even begin? First, there is my own history in both Austin and Houston. To make a long story short, I adored Austin and hated Houston. Go figure. My Texan friends tried to warn me. Either way, I spent just under a year and a half in the lone star state, and everything that happened during those times (Austin and Houston) still shape who I am today.
First, there was Austin. In 2002, I worked at Applied Materials as a co-op from June to December. I hated it at first, but soon, it became all I wanted after graduation from MSU: good job, good friends, and good music – maybe love. It really was as simple as that. As much as I enjoyed all the wonderful times I had there, the near catastrophes are what really stick in my mind.
On July 24th, 2002, I survived a major car accident: a moving truck turned in front me of while I had a green light. While I walked away from the accident with a broken big toe and metatarsal (that is how hard I braked), along with a few minor scrapes and bruises, any passenger probably would have been killed. Considering that I used to haul my brother around in my 1989 Grand Prix all the time, that shook me. What if he had been with me?
The accident itself took place out on 290 just before Applied Materials. I’d been on my way to work, and I later found out that my boss witnessed my crash. Somehow, I had many people looking out for me that day. One witness to the accident happened to be a nurse, and she stayed with me until the ambulance arrived. While I have almost no memory of anything until the hospital – probably due to shock – the Texas State Trooper who came to interview me about the crash couldn’t have been nicer. Then again, the accident clearly wasn’t my fault.
My mom, of course, was on the next flight out. When she arrived, she helped me manage buying a new car and finding a lawyer. We did both in style, and somehow, I negotiated my three-story walk-up sublet apartment in a splint up to my thigh. Mom, forced to drive in a completely unfamiliar city in an era before ubiquitous turn by turn navigation, marveled at how I already knew the streets and layout of Austin in such a short period of time. I still have fond memories of the few days Mom and I spent together in Austin.
Then, approximately a month or so after my accident, still in a walking cast and attending physical therapy, I found out that I could only sublet my apartment until the end of August, not the six months I had been promised and needed. I needed a new place to live yesterday. I panicked for a hot minute – and then rose to the occasion. Fortunately for me, Applied Materials had an internal classified section on their intranet. I started there. In the end, I found a wonderful roommate – a single mom who had worked at Applied for nearly a decade at that point – who owned a beautiful home minutes from work. I am still in touch with Karen today.
I could write almost endlessly about the time I spent with friends, including attending the first Austin City Limits Festival (now an institution), meeting Cheryl, the party we threw for Andy, and so, so much more. As I’ve said before, leaving Austin on a rainy, icy December morning, my heart shattered. Not so much with Houston.
So many friends tried to warn me about Houston. I wouldn’t be happy there. It started off well enough. My senior year at Michigan State, I intended to end up in Texas in any way possible. I made it to second round interviews with Applied Materials. Ultimately, they only took half of the engineers and supply chain people they interviewed. It did not help that my manager left before he could even evaluate me. In the end, I had no one on the inside fighting for me. I also ended up going through second round interviews at Dell. Less than a week after graduation, I ended up at FMC Energy Systems in Houston purchasing parts for wellheads. Frankly, it was a great first job – until it wasn’t. When I initially interviewed, I interviewed with five people in our department. By the time I left less than a year later, only two were still there – one on long-term medical leave. I won’t go on and on about Houston. There isn’t that much to tell: Wrong job, wrong city, wrong time, and wrong man. I think that about sums it up. We headed back to Michigan exhausted and broken.
I intended to write a post discussing my family’s history in Texas, which will now be part two; instead, it became a post describing my personal history in Texas. Looking back, I truly became an adult in Texas. I had some wonderful times, along with my share of disappointments. As much as I loved Austin, there is a reason none of it worked out. If Houston hadn’t ended in disaster and I hadn’t ended up back in Michigan, I wouldn’t have known my Grandpa Buttrick nearly as well. I belong in Michigan, even if a little piece of my heart will always be in Texas.
I didn’t know it at the time, but by running off to Texas, I was participating in a well-established family tradition going back generations.
I’ve spent a lot of time lately reevaluating where I am and what I want out of life. What I want hasn’t changed much, but I have come to some conclusions. I fully realize how close I am to having and creating the life I want. I am so incredibly close.
Career –
So much revolves around my career. I still intend to be a teacher, business owner, and writer – just not all at once.
My focus at the moment is teaching. I am looking for a full-time teaching position for next year. I don’t care much if it is Spanish, social studies, or business. I already know how I’d set up my classroom and how I would organize, generally, my classes. That is half the battle, right?
I also plan to look into teaching online. While I don’t want to teach online my entire career, it might be a good way to get started. There are so many possibilities at the moment. I will land somewhere.
As for the canoe livery, I am hoping Dad finally retires – or at least loosens up a bit. I love the canoe livery – and it will always be a part of who I am. I like where we are going. I don’t know how much more we can change and grow until Dad retires.
I don’t want to lose sight of our primary business – rentals – and yet, I want to add to the experience. Ultimately, we are in a pretty good place. I am grateful that my brother Garrett (i.e. my future business partner) and I have similar ideas as to how we plan to expand the business.
Then we come to writing. My writing goals are long-term and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. The other day I had a phone conversation with a family friend I’ve known most, if not all, my life. It involved the donation of a river trip. She then told me how much she enjoys reading my blog. Next, she asked if I planned to write for publication.
The question itself caught me slightly off-guard. Yes, I do intend to pursue publication at some point, but not in the immediate future. It isn’t that I am completely putting my writing on hold – in fact, I’ve been writing every day, just not for public consumption – I am not making a career out of it at this point.
I need time and space to hone my skills and let my vision evolve. Over the years, it already has. There are many smaller projects to work on in the meantime. I have no shortage of inspiration – and that is a wonderful thing. I love the fact that I can use Google Drive for my planning and have access wherever I go.
This post, borne out of the idea that it might be helpful to explore what I’d like my life to look like over the next few years, is a good example of how my brain works when I write. One idea expands into something much larger. Instead of one simple blog post, I now have a series of posts on my hands.
Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde 