Week 5:You go on a Journy

For most people going to college is an (almost) smooth transition. You go through high school, take what classes you need, talk with your advisors, and go to your pick of colleges that accept your application. Again this is the story for most people but it wasn't exactly the case for me.

You see, when I was eighteen I had everything planned out: I'd work a year, maybe two, save some cash then head out to the great blue and white yonder that is the University of Maine. Of course this was against the recommendations of just about every adult I knew, but I was pretty dead set in my plans. Besides I had the perfect excuse to take some time off from school, at least in my mind' that being my senior year had been a crap shoot and I desperately needed some time off to recoup, to start out fresh. So with that all knowing mentality I entered the work force and into the glorious and glamorous world of fast food. That last bit I say with more than a little sarcasm, but you get the idea.

But life happens as it's want to do and waiting a year or two turned into three years, then five. During that time I took the opportunity to travel around the country, I believe my first real trip out of state beyond Massachusetts had been to Dallas, what I actually expected to be a hot, dry climate had turned out to be near hurricane conditions...imagine, my surprise! But Texas wasn't the only place I traveled too. Chicago, St. Louis....I even made it as far as Vegas where I was introduced to a old english micro brewery that is perhaps one of the most memorable places I have ever visited. The furnishings were all made of a dark cherry stained oak, cushioned in dark green. There was a sort of metro feel to the decorations, pictures of abstract geometric art dotted the walls and the micro brews themselves were piped in over head and directly to the bar via a pipe system that reminded me of a stretched out catalytic converter. But of all the places I've visited I will always have a special spot in my heart for Phoenix; I truly love that city. But despite the travel and all the interesting people I had met or befriended, I always felt a little bit was missing from it all. During my travels I had friends go through college, graduate, then go on to their careers, they all had these amazing tales to tell of their time there as well as their fair share of horror stories and as my ten year high school reunion started to creep ever closer I started to take a serious look at going back to school, a real serious look. Without a doubt my friends and family had been urging me to go for some time, but I'd always had an excuse: Too many bills, I'd been out of school too long, etcetera ad nauseum. But it wasn't until my father's divorce that I truly got the motivation to apply.

Some three years or so ago my father and I had gotten reacquainted after a long estrangement due to complicated family matters. The complication being that he was what could be defined as a 'dead beat dad', though not entirely by his own fault. Once again see complicated family matters. Anyway we'd gotten reacquainted and come to find out he had remarried to a woman who we'll refer to as Jill. Now Jill seemed like a good sort of person: small, blonde, with a sophisticated air and education that seemed really pleased that my father and I had gotten back into each other's lives. Of course I did mention a divorce just a short while ago so...queue the dramatic music! All light heartedness aside it was (and still is) a nasty mess and I being the concerned, overly eager to help, son got caught up in the middle of it. While trying to help my father gather some of his things from his old home in Massachusetts some key phrases were thrown in my direction that involved "loser" or "leach" or otherwise attacked my lack of education. As you can imagine I didn't take overly kindly to those monikers and after a while it really started to get under my skin.

A few months later I threw out two applications to college, one to UMO and the other to EMCC. In all honesty I didn't expect to get accepted at either and figured I'd get a letter back saying 'go take a few night courses at adult ed then come back to us', which just happens to be what the University said to me. However! My acceptance letter to EMCC came in the mail in short order and, well, I was shocked, elated, scared out of my gourd. I hadn't been to school in ten years! It was crazy! it was awesome. In a round about way I suppose I owe Jill a bit of thanks for getting under my skin In such a way that I felt compelled to do something about it, not that she'd be pleased in any sort of way. But I guess the main thing, the major thing, is that eventually I found my way there.