Oh...Canada?

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the future. I've been thinking about what it is that I want to do with myself, where I want to be, and where I see myself. I've been thinking about Canada.

I realize that this may seem random, but let's chat about that. You see, I've always wanted to live in a more major metro area. I like the idea of a city that never sleeps, the idea of being able to go out at 4 AM and know that I'll find people and I'll have something to do. What I don't like about most cities in the United States is how unsafe they are. Plus, let's be honest here, Citizens: people in the U.S. are a little bit twisted. Canada is safer. Canadians respect each other. Sure, there are bad eggs, but Canadians don't really have the same kind of rudeness that we have here in the States. It's just different.

That's not the only reason that Canada appeals to me, and I'm sure that, at this point, I'm not really seeming any less random. It's just that Canada feels like possibility. Canada feels like America but better. I could see myself living in Canada. I could see myself being able to thrive there. Canada could be the place that turns my life around. I've been wanting to go there for a while now. We visited Niagara and Toronto when I was about 12, and they were amazing cities. I would go back in a heartbeat. I don't have to explain all the great reasons to live in Canada or why it matters to me. I guess I just really need to put it out there to the universe that this is what I want.

I really need to start over, and I think I'd like to do that somewhere completely different. I need things to change so much. I know I have a ways to go before I'll be out of school here in Ohio, so I'm thinking that maybe Canada will have to wait until I'm ready for grad school. Yet, I think grad school will be the perfect opportunity to make that happen for me. I've been looking at graduate schools in Canada, more specifically in Vancouver. The University of British Columbia is in Vancouver, and they have a pretty good rating in Canada. Not only that, but they have MA and Ph.D. programs in English.

The more I think about going, the more scary the prospect becomes, though. I'd be starting a life (or, at the very least, a new chapter of my life) in a totally unfamiliar place--not just city-wise, but country-wise. I wouldn't know anyone there. I wouldn't know the best places to shop or who to talk to if I have car or computer troubles. I'd have to discover everything. Completely. As much as that idea appeals to me, it's also terrifying to think that I would be--for the first time in my life--totally without a safety net. Canada is also a pretty expensive place to live, so it's a pretty daunting task to go there and try to make it on my own.

For some reason, though, I can't get the idea of moving to Vancouver out of my head. It's where I want to be. It's calling me. As unnerving as it is to face the idea of heading to another country, it's even more intimidating to have to face myself and my own disappointment if I completely ignore my urge to follow my dreams. Going to grad school, going to Vancouver, those are definitely my dreams. I don't want to wait until I'm 40 to have my self-actualization moment. I want to have the courage to do these things while I'm still young enough to love them and have plenty of time to look back on them and rejoice having had those experiences.

I just need to do something for myself. I need to do what makes me happy, and I really think that this would. Does this seem selfish? Should I care if it does? I mean, at the end of the day, this is my life and I'm the one that has to be happy with it. Ultimately, it's me that has to live with me. I don't want to regret not doing this for the rest of my life. I want to do it. I want to make it happen. Is that so wrong of me?

Writing the Future

I've been thinking a lot lately about my writing. I guess I'm trying to figure out what it is that I'd like to continue to do with my English degree. Let's face it, I'll probably never be lucky enough to have the Julie Powell-type serendipity of having someone want to actually do something with my blog. I'm not going to get a book deal based on my boring life. I'm going to have to figure out how it is that adults write things in the real world and manage to trade it for some type of money. Making money, obviously, has never been my forte.

In all, I wouldn't mind teaching. I love to teach. If there was one thing that Owens taught me about myself, other than the fact that I can manage to get decent grades when I put in the time and effort, it would be how much I enjoy helping other people to find their "Aha!" moments. I love that moment where a person actually understands a concept, and they understand it because of the way that you explained it to them. I know that I could be happy as a teacher, but I'd really love to get a doctorate and teach at the college level. I'd like to tackle hard concepts with my students.

Here's the rub: when I was a kid, I always had this fantasy that I'd be a great writer. I'd have a best-seller. It wouldn't be cookie-cutter tripe, either. It would be a deep, meaningful, moving novel, rife with symbolism and hailed by the critics as a brilliant piece of Literature--literature, that is, with a capital L. I'm actually closer than ever to having that silly dream come true. Well, alright, parts of that dream anyways. I don't think I'm the next Salman Rushdie. I'm not shooting for Dickensian talent, but it would be nice to be able to write something that wasn't completely foolish or crappy. I don't know if I'm ready to give up on the idea that I could be a writer yet.

 Permit me a moment of sibling rivalry here as well: my twin, marathon man that he is (graduated from Purdue with a degree in mechanical engineering, and was ridiculously close to having a double major in applied computational mathematics), also writes. He contributes to a Purdue-related sports blog, and he makes money off of it. His writing, which I had always thought was my domain, is fluid and cohesive. Considering familial achievements, I'm behind. But then, I was behind before I even started to consider this because my twin has been in college since 2004, whereas I didn't go back to school until 2008. (Yes, that's right, I fail at an abundance of things! It's not just writing!) Like I needed one more reason to be slightly jealous of my brilliant twin. The upside is that I can be very proud (and please don't doubt that I am completely proud of his talent and achievements) that he's a good writer.

I have time to figure it all out, of course. I have to get a basic degree before I can get a higher one. It's just been something that I've been thinking about. The future has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. I have a lot of decisions to make and courses of action to ponder.