Sunday, August 31, 2008

Careful What You Ask For

Sitting in the tub today I had an epiphany. I have been given everything I have silently wished for in the last 15 years.

When I was in University I always wanted to be one of those students who went out west for the summer to work. Some place cool. A mountain town, or a place with a beach, or barring that a damn cool festival of some sort. A place where I could work as a waitress and spend the summer tinkling cups, dancing my ass off, and meeting cute boys. Falling madly and tragically in love. A summer romance that would flare up in the sun of a long summer night and burn out as the fall approached. Sadly, I am a first born, far too practical. Every February I would begin to plan my escape. Every April I would acknowledge that it was a pipe dream. I knew that I could go, and that it would be fun. More than fun. But I also knew I would spend every cent of every dollar I made living the 'experience'. Come summer's end I wouldn't have enough left to buy used books, let alone pay tuition or living costs.

When I gradated University, I wanted to light out for Europe. There wasn't much going on economically in 1997. Especially, not for recent grads. Neither Mark or I came anywhere near landing fantastic or even cool jobs. So why stay? I wanted to head to England and teach. They were screaming for teachers. Mark said he didn't want to live anywhere he had never visited. We decided to give our little corner of earth the benefit of the doubt. It turned out not to bad.

Six years ago I realized I loved reading travel books. My first was A Year in Provence, and it made me want to pack my bags and run away to France. To spend my life learning about great food and drinking fine wine. The next was Under the Tuscan Sun. That book fired my passion to learn to cook dishes from other countries. It made me think, I might, even could, happily grow my own olives and make my own oil. Recently, I read The House on First Street and have become convinced that I shall buy a small bohemian apartment in the French Quarter to spend 6 months a year in when I retire. Ultimately, these books are all about the same thing. Starting a new life in an exotic location.

Sitting in the tub today I realized I had gotten my wish. I am moving to a world class resort community. I can say to Mark on a casual Saturday afternoon, 'hey, let's go skiing' and be at one of the best hills in North America in 15 minutes. Some of the best restaurants in the country are down the block. And if you look out of our bedroom window you have a beautiful view of a world class mountain range. I am lucky indeed.

1 comment:

Bina said...

I used to have big dreams, too. But there couldn't be anything better than seeing a mountain range out your window, unless of course, it's the ocean!