Thursday, May 2, 2013

One Way Ticket

I have had dreams of leaving Iowa for as long as I remember.  As a (tone-deaf) child, I imagined a luxurious life in Hollywood as the next Leann Rimes.  As I grew older, several places topped the list- Chicago, Minneapolis, Kansas City, San Francisco, and the list went on.  Eventually, I fell in love with Colorado & everywhere else disappeared from the map. 

I have traveled to Colorado six or seven times.  We went on a road trip to California when I was twelve.  I had broken my arm in half just days before our departure date.  (Hey, kids. Don’t try to cross your arms while riding a bike.  Take my word.)  Needless to say, I was a real peach throughout the entire trip, with a cast up to my shoulder and an “I hate everything” attitude.  I recall bawling in the mountains because there were no guardrails.  I was convinced we would plummet to our deaths & wondered how anyone EVER made it out alive.  Once we made it to the ocean, I cried because I couldn’t swim out as far as my brother and friends.  I literally called the Grand Canyon a “BIG HOLE IN THE GROUND” and openly expressed my boredom over the whole experience.  (I’m sorry, GC.  I will return one day and shower you with love and affection.)  My mom’s ability to refrain from strangling my scrawny, ungrateful neck was remarkable.  Kudos to you, Mom.  And thanks.

I viewed Colorado as “eh, whatever” until I stopped being a complete moron.  My mind was set.  Colorado would be my future-home.  My brother moved there a few years ago and that became an additional reason to make the move west.  I had the chance.  I had several.  My boss said he would ship me to Denver as soon as I said “go.”  But I bailed.  During my five years at First Data, I had multiple opportunities to make the move but I wimped out on my dream of living near the mountains.

Why?

1.)  I really am a wimp.  It’s that simple.  I get homesick.  I’m afraid of the dark & hate being home alone.  I’m afraid to leave what’s comfortable.  I rarely break out of the box.  I’m not as spontaneous as I think.  I figured it would happen one day, so I could wait.
2.)  My company reorganized several areas a few years ago.  Omaha became the “primary” 24/7 post and several night-shift operators in Denver lost their jobs (plus some day-shift folks throughout other changes.)  I was convinced that if I moved to CO, I would be hated by all.  (Yes, totally irrational.)  This was just an excuse.
3.)  Bills.  I would tell myself, “When everything is paid off, I’ll move.”  (Newsflash : BILLS NEVER STOP.)

A few months ago, I was asked about my interest in other job opportunities within the company.  I thought, “hell yeah!”  Maybe this was my chance for a change.  A chance I was too scared to take without a push.  I applied.  We went through hiring freezes.  Other candidates were better qualified.  I was discouraged.  I was tired of waiting around.

Don’t get me wrong- I actually like what I do.  I have worked with some great people who have shared immeasurable amounts of knowledge that I’ve tried to cram into this brain of mine.  I started here with no technical experience.  I learned quickly & I continue to learn each day (thanks to the people who put up with me.)  I’ve been a top performer & I’ve received praise for my work.  I hit my five-year mark in February.  I’m comfortable. 

I’m comfortable at my job.  I’m comfortable living in Omaha, near my family & friends.  Comfort put my Colorado move on hold and it would keep me from pursuing other opportunities if I didn’t change my attitude. 

First, let me say that I love it here.  I love being from Carson, Iowa.  405 Washington Street.  51525.  I love that I could pack my Barbie suitcase at the age of five and “run away” to my best friend’s house a block away. I love that it only took a ten minute walk to make it across town when she moved.  I love the Dreamland Theater and the Carson Rodeo.  I loved Sparky’s.  I love the 92 Club and I still can’t believe it’s standing after all these years.  I loved growing up within walking distance to the Todd’s, Patrick’s, Graves’s, Stephens’s, and Lorenz’s.  I love that Carson-Macedonia merged with Oakland when I was in 2nd grade and I gained more irreplaceable friends.

I love that we refer to Council Bluffs as “town” and Omaha as “the city”.  I love that I was raised to show respect, be polite, take a couple seconds to hold the door open for someone, and to always say “please” and “thank you”.  I love spending a night at The Back Forty or Riverside Lanes, drinking Busch Light, and catching up with old friends.  I love curing (or prolonging) hangovers with breakfast at The Wander Inn.  

I love Omaha.  Hell, I even love Council Bluffs.  I love the friends I’ve gained through living in both.  I love shows at The Waiting Room and The Slowdown.  I love Brothers, $5 pitchers of PBR, the intimidating jukebox, and feeling totally awkward if the place suddenly becomes packed with the too-cool hipsters.  I loved Mondays at The Sydney before my friends snagged grown-up jobs with regular hours.  I love champagne on tap at Homy Inn (except for the time Kelly & I each drank a pitcher.) 

I love Hitchcock Nature Center, Narrows River Park, and the Lewis & Clark monument.  I love that each site offers a breathtaking view of the sunset and I couldn’t choose a favorite if I tried.  I love The Old Market, Dundee, and Benson.  I love backyard hangs, Sunday Funday, and flying kites at Memorial Park on a warm, windy day.  I love that The Underground is now closed and I will never again consume those Long Islands.  I love living in sketchy neighborhoods (that aren’t so sketchy) just to hear my parents ask, “Do we need to get you a gun?” 

I really do love this place.  This is home.  These are my roots.  They will twist and bend but never break.

But, I’m leaving.

I recently started looking around and noticed others whose original goals had shifted or disappeared.  Was I going to fall into the cycle & settle here, too?

(Not that staying here would be a bad thing.  After all, I wouldn’t exist if Rod and Shelly hadn’t stuck around & met while working at the Oakland beef plant. And I’m their favorite child.)

I found myself putting Colorado on the backburner but couldn’t continue to explain why.  I was itching for a change.  I needed to take a leap into the murky waters of the unknown.  I imagined myself, twenty years from now, with an overwhelming feeling of regret for not pursuing my goals- or at least a modified version.  Around the time of my “AH-HA!” moment, I found out about an open position at Yahoo!  Although slightly similar to my job duties at FD, this would be less technical and more focused on communication and documentation in another fast-paced environment.  Long story short (because this is already a novel,) I applied.  I had a great interview.  I waited.  I received an offer.  I accepted!

The kicker?  The position I accepted is at Yahoo!’s facility in Lockport, New York- a small town about 40 minutes northeast of Buffalo. 

YES, I AM AWARE OF THE SNOW IN BUFFALO!  Please, stop asking. 


I finally took that leap.  My roots will be extending a thousand miles to the East.  It’s not Colorado, but it is somewhere outside of my comfort zone.  So far out, actually, that I will have no choice but to suck it up and embrace this awesome opportunity.

Do I know anyone in the Buffalo area?  Not a soul.
Do I have a place to live?  Nope.
Have I ever been to Buffalo, Lockport, Toronto, or Niagara Falls?  Never.
Have I been checking the crime statistics for every potential neighborhood?  Yes. (Mom and Dad)
Will this be a temporary or permanent move?  I have no idea. 
Am I excited?  You bet your ass! 

It’s time to grab Buffalo by the balls.  Life is all about the journey, right?  I’m scared out of my mind but eager.  I’m not sure where this new road leads or which additional paths I’ll take, but I’ve never liked using maps anyway.




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