Anyway, while at home I had the chance to talk with my older brother into the wee hours of the morning... and I mean it when I say wee. By 3 AM, we finally came to this thought: why am I, Cassidy, even going to college?
Okay, okay, yes. It is a good idea to go to college and I am not saying it isn't for anyone. However, who ever said it was for EVERYone?
Quite frankly, high school was a cake walk for me. Rarely had to study and when I did seriously study it was because I loved the subject (such as my Art History class in my Senior year). However, I did as my mom always said I would--take on high school to prepare to go to college so that when the time comes, I wouldn't have too much trouble getting into the school of my choosing. How did that translate in my maturing brain? You will go to college... no matter what.
And so I did.
Quite happily at first. Not only was I accepted in my first choice, Brigham Young University-Provo but also my second choice, Brigham Young University-Idaho. All was looking up. But, I didn't apply myself as well as I should have while applying for scholarships and ended up with barely enough scholarship to get me through my first semester and only enough for my books for the second semester. I am not entirely sure where I thought all the money was coming from to do those things I needed (and thought I needed) to do, but by the end of my second semester, I was greatly indebted to my parents.
Thus, my plans to continue on in Provo were brought to a rather abrupt end when my coming home to attend my brother's wedding equated coming home to stay, once again, under the roof of my parents to work until I paid them off and then until I had enough in the bank to take another stab at school.
A year and a half passed, and with what I thought was a full-proof plan, I launched myself back into the Provo scene to tackle the university monster once more. Well. College was hard just as it had been that first semester when I had done average or below in most of my classes (only getting A's in my dance classes... go figure). As such, schooling slowed down to a crawl when I signed up for only a credit or two at a time suddenly realizing I had no idea what I was doing.
About 2.5 years too late, don't you think?
My passion, of course, lay in the performing arts but really how reliable is that? So, I started thinking up a different and more stable path. Teaching... music, of course. I thought that scheme up about a year ago. Nope. Still not even started.
So, here I am. Fighting my way through being on Academic Warning and (just recently) starting to work two part time jobs and I am feeling discouraged (just as my mother had predicted I would...although it is still summertime so at least I'm not under house arrest due to snowy weather).
The clearest way I could describe to my brother as we talked things out was this: I feel like I am banging my head against a wall trying to accomplish those things (like a college education) I thought my parents needed me to in order to feel proud of their oldest daughter.
And this brings us back to my mother's theory on high school: take the classes to prepare as if you were going to college and (these are my own words at the end) so it can be an option.
Wow. Can I get a round of applause?
As we continued talking, a well-known poem came to mind and though I am sure some of you have already thought of it, here it is in full.
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
"Yet knowing how way lead on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back." In all honesty, until just now, I have not really thought about that part of the poem. But I see the truth in it. Here I stand at the fork in my yellow wood and wonder, which path will I take?
So often we think that we are taking the road "less traveled by" when we are simply doing the same as everyone else.
Now, before all of you think I will do something batty and just pack a suitcase of the bare minimum and run off to Europe or Hawaii, I realize that though it is a decision of paths, it will also entail some careful thought and planning.
It becomes increasingly evident that once out of the Provo bubble, housing will be different and I may end up either living with people with very different values than myself or simply living on my own but... I do not see this as a completely bad thing. I am halfway through my 22nd year, single and completely independent.
As for prospective cities, I have a few in mind and simply need to figure out which one would be the best fit for me (and I assure you, there will be a lot of prayer and faith involved in this process) and my focus for the next year and half (this is my projected time frame) I will be working and saving. I have already cut back the classes I will be taking in the fall (having to take at least one credit to keep my job on campus which actually pays a good deal above minimum wage so it would be a rather imbecile move to lose it) and when my next paycheck comes I will, as my brother put it, pay myself (after the usual 10% to tithing) and also try to continue living on just one paycheck so the other can by squirreled away (my own wording) for the time ahead.
So here is the question:
Should I aim for Seattle, Portland, Denver or Buena Vista (that's in Virginia, if you were unaware)?
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