Friday, October 16, 2009

My past nomadic history: part I

32 weeks and counting. I thought I'd use this entry to explain a little more about myself, to give a little more of my history. In the summer of 2005, I left Texas where I had lived my whole life, and went to North Carolina to work at a girls camp as a pottery instructor. I had already worked there two summers previously and absolutely loved it, so my plan was to do it again, and then go back to Texas. But during that summer, I started re-evaluating that plan, and for a variety of different reasons, going back to Texas seemed less and less appealing. I can list off some of those reasons, and I can list off plenty of reasons why I really wanted to go back, but the deciding factor was that I had this terrible gut feeling every time I thought about making plans to be back there. It really threw me off; I had wonderful friends and family there, I was surrounded by people who loved me, my whole life was there. But I found that every time I thought about going back, I would get this nauseous feeling in my stomach. I couldn't explain it, but I just didn't feel right about going back.

So I didn't. Instead, I got a job at Zion National Park in Utah, at the lodge there waiting tables. At first I hated that I was waiting tables again, after all I had a college degree and I was actually suppose to be doing something with my life, right? But what I soon realized was that when I was there in the canyon, working in the restaurant, living in the employee housing, having minimal possessions with me, needing minimal possessions, and meeting so many interesting people who would teach me lessons I didn't even know I needed to learn, is that I actually enjoyed waiting tables, and that this life style seemed to fit me like an old pair of jeans. I knew I couldn't go back now. So at the end of my few months stay in Zion, I went back to Texas for a week, sold everything I had that wouldn't fit into my two duffel bags (with the exception of a few boxes of pictures and keepsakes that are in my mothers garage), and then went off to Hawaii to work on a cruise ship. The cruise ship gig ended perfectly in time for me to return to the camp in NC again the next summer, and since I loved Zion so much I went there again after camp. Then back onto the cruise ship in Hawaii, and then to camp again. I didn't want to get stuck in a rut, so I tried something new after that summer of 2007, and I went to San Diego. I stayed there for about 4 months and absolutely loved it, but then I got a job for the winter at a ski resort in Colorado. It was great- I skied to work every day! The next summer, still changing it up, I went to Denali National Park in Alaska instead of going back to the camp, and then for the fall season I went to Olympic National Park on the Washington peninsula. And then back to Colorado for the next winter, which brings us up to the winter of '08-'09.

I was loving it. I had a great job as a restaurant manager, and had another one lined up for the summer again in Alaska. While in Colorado, I worked very closely with our chef, and the professional relationship evolved into something more. However at the end of the winter season, we knew we were going our separate ways, so we wished each other the best and parted as good friends, still planning on keeping in touch. He went on his way to visit his family before his summer job as a private chef on a ranch, and I went on a much anticipated, month long vacation to Thailand before beginning my job in Alaska.

I spent two days in Seattle and two days in Korea before I finally got to Thailand where I met up with my friend and fellow nomad, Renee. I had met Renee on the ship in Hawaii, and she was one of the people who convinced me to come out to Alaska the past summer. I in turn had convinced her to come to Colorado with me for the winter, and we had planned the trip to Thailand together. We were in Bangkok for two days, and on the second day were getting ready to leave to travel north by train to Chang Mai. While we were waiting at the hotel for the taxi, I started to not feel so good. By the time we left the hotel I had already ejected in some form or another everything I had eaten in what seemed like the past year, and continued to do so for the next 12 hours on the train. What a vacation this was turning out to be! The vomiting finally let up, but in the following days I still didn't feel so well. And I was really tired all the time. As we continued to travel around I had some good days, but I never really felt that well. It was never as bad as that first horrific night on the train, but after two weeks of the blahs, we were looking up every kind of traveling sickness we could find. Then one morning I woke up and it just hit me: "Oh My God I'm Pregnant!"

What the #$%^&*()_&^%$#@!@#$%^&*???????!!!!!!!!!!!??????????? How could this have happened? Surely it can't be! Bill and I had been very careful; we had even talked about the fact that neither of us wanted kids! What am I going to do? I can't raise a child- I don't even have a home! Renee and I were in Phuket, a super touristy beach island in south Thailand. I had already been planning to get away for a couple of days to spend some time by myself, so I went to a nearby island with lots of gorgeous scenery and very few people around. I spent the days there contemplating the situation, and as soon as I got back to the mainland where there were drug stores, I bought a pregnancy test. By then I didn't even have a reaction when it came back positive, I already knew. I went straight to an internet cafe to tell unsuspecting Bill the news.

I know this is becoming a pretty long story, so I'll leave here with a 'To Be Continued...."

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