This is all I ever wanted to do. Sit in front of my computer, and create. I was never good at music. Never an elite athlete. Just an average Jane chugging away at school, playing recreational sports growing up. I’m 27 now. Where has the time gone?! Just yesterday it seems I was getting my drivers license and was driving around in my b-e-a-utiful black Acura RL that was a year older than I was. Sunroof, leather seats, Bose speakers, the works! Talk about a gas guzzler but I would still be driving that car today if it could have survived the brutal Eastern Washington State winters at my beloved alma mater, Gonzaga University.

All I ever wanted to do was be an artist.

All I ever wanted to do was be a writer.

All I ever wanted to do was study Greek mythology.

All I ever wanted to do was live the life I’ve grown accustomed to…

One of these things is not like the other!

Engineering is funny that way. Decent pay, challenging content, you’ve got your technical writing, your CAD work, which is an art form in and of itself. You’ve got breaking things and making things, and breaking them again. Iterating, continually improving, always churning up the next best thing, the next most innovative technological advancement to propel society forward and to do some good for the world along the way. Its exciting nerd-talk!

I never understood this notion when I was first starting college in the fall of 2009: Work hard now, harder than the business students and the communication students, the one day mathematicians, physicists, biologists, doctors, lawyers, and veterinarians. Work harder than everybody around you for just 4 years so you can live a life that no one can in 40. Be deliberate in selecting your career. You can read and write and paint and what have you with your other 16 hours. 

But, the light bulb has now finally flickered on…slowly…nearly 10 years, 3 jobs, and a master’s degree later; one that has been in the works since 2013 and which will be awarded to me in JUNE, 2018! Ding. Ah-ha, light bulb, eureka, holy shit-moment.

I always wanted to be a writer. And one day that’s all I’ll have to – no – that’s all I’ll get to do, to be. Because affording a certain type of lifestyle will no longer be a decision variable. The house will be paid off. I might even have 20 puppies instead of the two, most adorable dogs in the world, I have now. Who knows what the future will hold? Certainly not me. I just need to play my cards right. And between you and me, from where I’m standing, the hand isn’t looking too shabby.

I’ll just be there. You know, in the future with future me looking back at young n’ dumb me with a knowing smirk; glad I struggled, worked hard, loved harder, wishing I didn’t stress as much, grateful to have had a helluva ride with my first career. I’ll be able to breathe a little easier knowing I worked my ass off to give my dogs a better life, to make my parents, to make my family, those who are still here and those who are elsewhere – to make myself – proud. And I’ll get to continue to follow my dreams. You know, the ones I always had as a kid.

I only ever wanted to make things.

And break things.

Write things.

And bike to things.

Ask questions.

Be curious.

Learn.

I’m in the business of having my cake and eating it too.

I was always meant to be an engineer. I always wanted to be a writer. So, I am.

June 30th 1998 is still the single most defining day of my life. And I was only a measly 7 years old at the time. More defining than the day I graduated college, the day I realized I had fallen in love for the first time, and yes more defining than the day my brother was born, which still haunts me to this day (only kidding…sort of).

That last day of June was the day my parents moved our family to a brand spanking new house on top of a hill with a view that just doesn’t get old even after your bedroom window faces it for most of your life.

At the time I felt like a plant being ripped from familiar ground and plunked into new dirt. And what’s funny now is that I still do feel that way; as if some of my roots are still left behind in New Jersey. But the thing about plants is that they adapt, grow, and even thrive in new environments. Like a small tree that has outgrown its pot. In a new, bigger and more freeing pot the little tree has more room to grow. And if you’ve ever lived in Oregon, you know there is no better place to grow up than here.

But man did it take a long time for those roots to sink in and realize they were here for good.

I’ve always struggled with my identity. Although I have a keen sense of self awareness, I’ve always had this nagging feeling that I needed to find myself…whatever that actually means. But as is the theme of my life, be it lost car keys, a broken heart, or a crazy couple of days, I always find what I’m looking for. And I always make my way back home.