Posts Tagged With: Kentucky


I sat in a room painted white with no windows and one door we weren’t allowed to use but did anyway.  It was late October, 2011 and I was in Eastern Afghanistan separated from my husband by 15 miles of land churning with religious agony and human hatred.  He might as well have been in space or at the bottom of the ocean.  Actually, it would have been easier to get to him then.  It was so dark outside I could see the Milky Way and consider the wonders of the universe.  I usually just sat outside looking at the Big Dipper.  Not only was it a beacon I saw home in (the United States), but it was also the same constellation my husband was under and possibly looking at as well.

I wasn’t outside pondering these things, however, I was sitting at a computer musing on what life would be like in Fairbanks, Alaska.  We had just found out a week earlier, hours before leaving the paradise of Bali, that S would be transferred to Fort Wainwright only a few short months after arriving back in the States.  I had spent so much of the year planning our lives in Louisville, Kentucky that this “summons” knocked the breath right out of me initially.  We were waiting patiently for Callie to be born, we were considering buying a house, and I was getting out of the Army.  Having more than enough time– more time than I wanted– to deliberate about  what I would do after the Army, I had finally realized what I needed to do.  Publishing.

I could give you quite the interesting list of jobs I’ve gone through in my life wanting to do.  My dad remembers me wanting to be a ballerina and then deciding being part of a mountain rescue team would be my life goal.  For many years I considered being a Christian missionary.  Eventually it was English teacher.  I couldn’t read enough to save my life.  I used to read 5 books at a time (which annoyed my mom to no end).  I wrote constantly.  I adored language in any form.  And that was it.  I went to college and began my journey toward changing some 9th grader’s life through his English class.  Then I started student teaching.

At 20 years old I looked almost 16 years old.  As horrific an experience as high school was for me, I was in my second year of college and was prepared to re-enter the world an older, wiser, more intelligent person with no fear pressing down on my shoulders and no insecurity behind my eyes.  Then I got stopped by a teacher in the hallway of the local high school who asked, “Do you have a hall pass?”  My fears, anger, insecurities, and naivety had not been beaten off, they had just been hiding in the shadows, where they pounced from now with a vengeance and crushed my courageous, confident, passionate spirit.  I stuck it out, however, making it to the class I was student teaching, and realized within two weeks that teaching high school English would not quench my thirst to share the passion I had of language.

I considered dropping the ‘Education’ portion of my English Education degree I was working toward, but stuck it out one more semester in which I took a grammar class.  Yes, it was torture.  No, it was not all for naught.  I learned about Teaching English as a Second Language (TESOL) in that class and was instantly in love.  I never tread carefully around instant love, as most people advise.  I dove into researching it and imagined myself in some far off land, offering people a chance at achieving the 1950’s “American Dream.”

Back to the future– late October 2011.  I had completed my Bachelor’s Degree in English Literature (no Education), had dabbled with some jobs, and joined the Army.  The closest I came to my dreams of TESOL was sitting in a back office in Afghanistan and flipping through a Webster’s Dictionary from the 1970s with Gil, a 54 year old Afghanistan native who had been a United States citizen longer than I’ve been alive.  I sat at the computer researching the publishing industry and feeling my heart rate rising with excitement.  I had found it!  I had found a career that encompassed everything to do with my passion of language!  Through publishing, editing, copyrighting, or anything in the industry, I would not be teaching a small classroom of uninterested students, hoping to change someone’s life once every 10 years, but I would be providing the resources to learn ANYTHING to millions of people!  I could travel and learn about the industry from others.  I could participate in events for charities and helping those in need.  I felt at home in the web pages I read on publishing.

The next step was figuring out how to start this career in Fairbanks, Alaska.  Definitely easier said than done.  On the bright side, I knew I was going to need to start from the very bottom and work my way up.  What a better way to learn about the industry of books than at a book store?  I started looking for book stores in Fairbanks and found three.  THREE.  There is Barnes and Noble, Forget Me Not Books, and Gulliver’s Books.  I grew up in northern California frequenting Barnes and Noble, so I had some good memories at this chain store.  Forget Me Not Books is affiliated with The Literacy Council of Alaska and mostly volunteer work.  Gulliver’s Books is a locally owned book store that has been in business for 23 years.  I thought it would be neat to be able to have time to volunteer at Forget Me Not Books or the Literacy Council of Alaska as well as work at Barnes and Noble since I frequented there as a child, but Gulliver’s Books just seemed magical.  It obviously instantly reminds one of “Gulliver’s Travels” which, before Jack Black’s raping of the story, was a fantastic (in the definition sense) classic satire and parody that was more fun when summarized for children but just as fun for adults who understand the hidden significances hidden within the tale.  The pictures on the website and street view on Google Maps show a quaint building that has the airs of a fairy tale.  It seemed perfect.  Now, I just had to get a job there.

It is now August 21, 2012 and I finally walked inside this Gulliver’s Books with nerves high, and trying to hide my shaking hands as I hand my application and resume to the owner and retiring manager of the local bookstore.  In short, I interviewed with the new owners immediately and was hired on the spot!  It wasn’t in the bookstore yet, I now work in the Second Story Cafe of Gulliver’s Books, however it is just the beginning.  I can’t stop thinking– “What if this is the first step to achieving all the success I desire?”  Maybe someday I’ll be writing this as the COO of Penguin Press.  Think on THAT for a minute!

Until next time folks…I’ll be enjoying my time as an unemployed, dependent, civilian Army wife.

Categories: Alaska, As an Adult, General Meanderings | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

497– The Second Leg

Day two.  I was on a road trip that was taking me through an expanse of land measuring the distance of the United States from one coast to the other– twice.  And I was on day two.

S and I began driving away from Madison, Wisconsin at 10:15AM on May 28, 2012, heading to Mitchell, South Dakota.  It was a 497 mile journey that Google Maps says should take a person 8 hours and 21 minutes to drive.  Why doesn’t Google factor in other things like a human’s need to eat and then expend that waste?  Or trailers being tossed about in the wind, slowing the driver down that is towing it?  Or puppies?  Why are we not in that era of figuring true travel times yet?  People own phones that have artificial intelligence in them but I can’t factor in reality to my travel times on Google maps?  Oh well, maybe someday…

Second Leg of trip

Our time in Madison had been interesting, but I was excited to get back on the road and knock another few miles off the trip.  S and I had been focused on so many other things for so long and had not paid any attention to one another really, that when Callie fell asleep the night before, we took the opportunity to be intimate.  Doing so with a child in the room may be mentally damaging for the child, doing so with a puppy in the room may be mentally damaging for its owners.  Especially when the puppy wakes up and starts crying that loud, ear-piercing cry that only puppies can do and then starts licking your foot that’s hanging off the bed.  The morning of May 28, S and I attempted to finish getting ready and pack before Callie woke up.  She woke up as we were packing and wanted to jump off the bed, which was about 2 1/2 feet tall.  I  kept helping her down and then she’d want back up and this went on for a few minutes before S said, “Just let her jump down herself, she’ll be fine.”  I thought it was too high and she would get hurt, but he insisted so we could finish getting things together and leave.  A minute later…Callie jumped off the bed and landed on her front right leg the wrong way, laid down on the ground crying like she’d just been hit by a car.  Me, a new “mom,” was horrified and thought she was instantly going to die.  S, a rational puppy owner, ran over, calmed her down, squeezed her leg from top to paw without a squeak from Callie.  She limped a little but fell asleep quickly in the car and it never bothered her again.  After that, I couldn’t imagine how my mom felt when she heard me screaming my head off after slamming my head (with a helmet on) into a curb and fracturing my arm after a bike crash when I was 10.  I think I’ll just have to make my kids live in a bubble when I have them.

Driving through the rest of Wisconsin, I considered the drive the day prior.  In Michigan, S and I were able to go 70-75mph and I felt like we were making really good time.  When we hit the toll roads in Indiana, half of it was 55mph and many parts of it were 35-45mph.  It was extremely irritating to PAY to be on a road we had to drive much slower on.  As soon as S and I got off the toll road, the speed limit on I-90W was 65mph.

Having to pay attention because I was driving made me see the beautiful sights in Wisconsin…as well as so many other places.  As a child, I was a passenger on 7 round trip cross country road trips from Beale AFB, CA to Somerset, KY.  My mom always drove with no assistance and changed the route each year (there are 3 different routes to take).  However, I either was sleeping or reading on all of those trips, so I was definitely getting the full experience for the first time during this road trip.  I was pleasantly surprised by some rock formations in Wisconsin as well as many lakes I didn’t think would be there.  We crossed the border into Minnesota at 1:22PM and it reminded me SO much of Kentucky.  I kind of started to miss home and family looking at the rock that had been blown away to make the highway and you could see all the layers and history of the land.  I’m sure the foliage was different, but there was a similarity that made me think of listening to the locusts’ buzzing on a hot Kentucky day.

The speed limit as soon as we crossed the Wisconsin border went up to 70mph (hadn’t had that since Michigan) and I was hoping we would go back to making good time.  Unfortunately, the rolling hills from southeast Minnesota didn’t last for long and S and I found ourselves driving through the plains, with strong winds blowing the U-Haul trailer he was towing back and forth.  He could absolutely not go any faster than 70mph and usually didn’t even make it up to that.  However, as soon as I began to get irritated with how slow we going, we passed Rochester, Minnesota and began seeing electrical wind farms.  I know there is a lot of controversy surrounding these, but I find them fascinating.  It is always in the middle of nowhere that you run upon these seemingly-futuristic “farms” and it always makes me feel like I’m on another planet.  Could you imagine Gus and Woodrow (from “Lonesome Dove”) herding their cattle up to Montana running into such a thing as a wind farm?

May 28 in Minnesota was 80 degrees (Fahrenheit) and sunny with beautiful, puffy, white clouds floating through an incredibly blue sky…all covering LOTS of flat land.  Yes, “find the beauty in everything.”  The plains ARE beautiful, however there is definitely a reason they are called the ‘plains.’  If you would like to argue language, we may, but it’s something I have to point out.  After a few hours in Minnesota, I did begin to yearn for the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range on the West Coast that we would be able to see on our way to Seattle, WA.  I am, and always have been, a mountain girl at heart.  I do find the beauty in Minnesota, but it is not something I yearn for.

As S and I drove into South Dakota and the wind became even worse against our vehicles, I wondered if it was always like that or if it was a seasonal thing?  No matter for me though, because we were in Mitchell and I would finally get to sleep again.  The next day would be a short drive to Rapid City and I would get to experience another first in my relationship with S– seeing Mount Rushmore!

Categories: From Tennessee to Alaska | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

One long ‘Goodbye’

Apartment Number 11- Our First Home

My life has been a long ‘Goodbye.’  I’ve moved 15 times in the last 27 years.  I’ve met people who still change my life today and I’ve met people who say I changed their lives.  “Goodbye” is not a sad word to me, especially with the technology available to everyone now.  However, your first home will never get on the internet to let you know how it’s doing.  On May 21, 2012, I had an incredibly difficult goodbye.

I spent the previous week saying goodbye to a number of important people in my life and rejoicing in their lives continuing on exciting journeys while I did the same.  My brother graduated high school.  My best friend, who I thought was a man-hater, informed me she was getting married.  My mom started a promising new job.   S, Callie, and I were moving to Alaska.  Everyone was beginning their adventures.  But as S and I were looking forward to starting such a monumental chapter in our marriage, we still needed to close out the previous chapter, and that meant saying goodbye to our first home together– and the first place I had ever rented on my own.

S and I were coworkers when we first met at Fort Knox, KY.  His life-long friends hit the nail on the head when they described me as “the female version” of him.  Though we are similar, we also somehow manage to have the strengths for the other’s weaknesses and complete the puzzle for each another.  He was a dear friend way back in May 2010 when I was promoted to E-5 SGT (Sergeant) in the US Army.  I had never lived on my own.  I finally had the opportunity to move out of barracks and into my own place and I wasn’t about to wait a second more.  S went along for the ride to look for apartments with me and ended up helping me understand what to look for to decide on the best place.  When we walked into Apartment #11 in Muldraugh, KY, I said, “I think this is the one.”  He said, “Yeah, not bad for your first place.”  Five months later we had realized our love for one another, we traded dog tags (instead of rings), and he was moving in.  It was our first home together.

Oh, how I will miss you!

The apartment was pre-furnished (with furniture and other things I don’t want to think about, I’m sure), had the smallest kitchen imaginable, and a window AC unit that cooled down the bedroom too much and not the rest of the apartment at all.  It was right next to an outdoor car wash, next to a main highway, behind an elementary school with a basketball court, and– most importantly– a block away from Dodge’s Chicken and Gas Station.  It was perfect.  Dodge’s being down the road made it heaven.  Dodge’s is a normal locally-owned gas station but they also make their own fried…everything.  Fried chicken, fried potatoes, even fried corn.  When you’re up late at night rambling about the mysteries of the universe with your best friend and significant other, there is nothing better than to look up and see the Dodge’s Chicken sign lighting up your window and know you are safe from starvation forever.  When you wake up late and know you’re going to be starting your day out doing 100 push ups if you don’t get to work in 10 minutes flat but your gas tank is empty, there is nothing better than to look up and see the Dodge’s Chicken sign like a shining beacon of hope toward no muscle failure.  Saying “Goodbye” to all our memories in our first home and to Dodge’s Chicken was a rough day.  Having S close the door and walk down the stairs with me while I held Callie and we all left together on our new adventure made it much less rough, however.

What’s the toughest “Goodbye” you’ve ever had?

Categories: As an Adult, General Meanderings | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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