I made it back to Minnesota and to my parent’s house safe and sound. I’m positive Izzy is happy about not being on the road anymore. The water pump is threatening to give out and Thelma leaks coolant when she is moved. It is sad woe, but I’ve decided to sell her. She’s cost me all of my money and I don’t want to be stuck with no way to support myself. Actually, if I could magically get a pretty penny for her I would go back out and finish my journey in my car and just camp. I hadn’t intended on sleeping in a tent this whole climb, but I’ve become more at peace with it.
When I was on the road I missed home terribly…and when I say home, I just mean Minnesota. I don’t have a home. That’s a reality that’s been a hard swallow. I wish I could just find a job – a career, a place that wants me. It is an odd and lonely feeling, not being wanted. Not having a purpose. I am lost in the fog and unnoticed by anyone. I hate it. I don’t know if any the decisions I’m making are the right one, if any of the positions I apply for are the right one, if any of the places I visit are the right one. I wish I could be a travel writer, a real one, professional, with business cards and an income…not just keeping a blog that some people read sometimes.
But I am only a fair writer. Another fact I must face. And, while this bout of sadness will pass, it is a reason that has put me on a roller coaster of emotions – facing that I am only just okay. Average. With no real specialties. A Master of English with nothing to show for it, but a small mound of debt.
I can fool myself, though. If I can get my losses back I tell myself I will go East instead of West, to the New England states. …And then I tell myself I will finish my adventure. Skip the filler and just get to Oregon…my father and I talked for many hours last night of the places he has lived and where his family has gone. My father lived in Astoria, OR when he was very young and had an aunt and uncle there as well. The uncle is long-resting peacefully in Saint Cloud, MN (the hub of our family’s existence) and the aunt is far away from her love in Astoria. Buried by a second husband who didn’t care enough to give her a marker. Her name was Theresa, a name I’ve been whispered should have been mine, and it would be nice to pay a visit to a woman, I have been told, was very kind, humble, and beautiful.
This is a long rant on being lost in the world, and I do apologize, but I wish I could see it all. Tickets go on sale for ‘Hamlet’ at the Barbican in London’s West Side next week. My favorite actor, Benedict Cumberbatch is playing as Hamlet and I was going to use that play as an excuse to visit London and visit an entirely new country for the first time. It performs from August-October 2015. Truthfully, I wanted to be in London for my 30th birthday – February 1st. Six months from now I’ll be 30. I suppose that’s been another reason for my sadness. At 30 the expectations I have had for myself have not been met. I’m not living my happily ever after. I haven’t found my Mister Darcey, I don’t have a home, a career, any children. I’m not spending my summers on the French Riviera and winters skiing the mountains…I’ve never skied…I do have two degrees, I am healthy, I have lots of family who love me and are supportive, I have much to stay positive about, but it doesn’t change I haven’t accomplished what I set out to accomplish by the time I was 30. I did leave my horrid job and move away from that wretched town I spent so many years in. I am glad for that. I just expected to have stayed far away, heh. It will come though, it will come, I just have a hard time being patient.
Until that day I will keep applying for jobs and keep studying my atlas preparing for when the time comes I can be on the road again.