I have been toying with the vague idea to go back to school for quite some time. Years, actually. But it’s hard to come up with some plans without any clue as to what direction one wants to travel in.
Here’s a bit of history: When I was in high school, I was never very academically inclined. I did well in my classes, but overall wasn’t interested. I felt a calling more towards interior design. Rooms were my canvas, and I preferred to shop for sheets rather than shirts. As I was planning the rest of my life, I looked at schools that had design programs. I really wanted to go to a school in Atlanta that I had seen in my mom’s decorating magazines, partly mostly because they had an exchange program in London. But neither one of my parents was wild about the idea. My mother thought I should focus on something more practical like French, since I was doing well in that class, and my father just had that look on his face. That look wasn’t enthusiastic. I was disappointed, since going AWAY to school was a big part of the appeal. But I digress. I looked at schools a bit closer to me and ended up at the esteemed University of Lesser Knowledge Hesser College.
Hesser was in the next town and had an interior design program. Still infatuated with the away at college idea, I took a room in the dorms and immersed myself into college life. Oh, you’re wondering about the comment above? Well, my I found the college prep program in my high school to be more challenging than the course of study at Hesser. But other extra-curricular activities, which found me studying mixology more than interior design, saw me on academic probation and changing my major. I went with the path of least resistance and chose a major that featured classes I actually did well in despite my inebriated state. I focused on small business management the next semester, redeeming myself and my academic standing, but also letting a childhood fear of math get the best of me.
During an English final at the end of the second semester, I was answering an question with a total ass-kissing essay and ended up believing what I wrote. It sure sounded good at the time, and would certainly make a lot of people proud of me. I changed my major again, this time to liberal studies, with the intention of transferring into a 4-year program with a double major of English and education. I graduated Hesser with an Associate of Arts in Liberal Studies, and prepared for more studies at New Hampshire College (known today as Southern New Hampshire University).
Something weird happened when I was at NHC. I threw myself into my studies, but something was off. Something major in a cosmic sort of way. I started feeling like I was on the outside looking in, like I was in the wrong place. Bigger than that, actually - like I was in the wrong life. This life was so not the one I was meant to be living. The feeling became so overwhelming that I withdrew from classes to figure out exactly where I was supposed to be. I took a string of retail jobs, spent some time in Europe, got into office work, and lived a marginally fulfilling life.
In 2003, when I moved to Vegas, I had a bit of money to play with, so I decided to take a course at the local community college as a way to get out there and meet people. While perusing the non-credit courses, I figured why not? Why not take up a course of study? I did come here for a change, after all. But there was this pesky residency thing. Being the cheap shit that I am, I didn’t want to pay an exorbitant fee just because I hadn’t lived here long enough, so I only took 2 classes and took a part time job (Shoe Job). But finish up the core requirements that wouldn’t transfer in, and taking only 2 classes at a time, I lost steam. I needed to work full time, so school fell by the wayside.
That brings you all up to speed of the life of Kirsten, b.b. (Before Blog). As my longtime readers know, I have worked in a variety of administrative jobs, which while not exaclty fulfilling, kept me fairly happy. Until recently. Last year, as I was looking for yet another new job, I was searching for something, but I didn’t know what. I did know that I didn’t want to file and answer phones for the rest of my life. I needed direction.
And right now, I need sleep. Stay tuned for part 2.