How did I get here?

        Jake, My sweet Jake. The most gentle big brown eyes you've ever seen and never a negative word. Never a word at all for that matter. It is days like today I wish that wasn't true. Jake is my protection. Not in the average way a dog might protect his owner. He is very experienced in his craft, doing what he does best with utmost enthusiasm. Jake, my beautiful golden retriever, protects by keeping me from my loneliness. I know that sounds ridiculous and extremely cheesy but he is my best friend. Living in Europe with everyone I've ever cared about stateside, my husband and Jake aside, it gets downright desolate. Today, more than most, since my husband is gone again.

I've always been a hard worker. Ever since I was 15 years old I have held at least one job, until recently. We moved to Germany in February 2010. I was a recent vocational college graduate specializing in dental assisting. It's not what I have always dreamed of doing since I was a little girl. Not even close. It's a good job, I don't doubt that. It is one of those jobs that will be available wherever I go with decent pay. I am responsible and realistic to a fault. I fully believed I was setting myself up for success. I don't feel that way anymore. My dream has always been the silver screen. I know that sounds like everyone's dream but I don't see it that way. I have the talent. I have the drive. The only thing I lack is opportunity. If you were to have asked me at any point in my life, before high school graduation, what my ideal life would look like, the answer would have been this: I would go to a four year university right out of high school. I would run track for a competitive team of which I was a valued member. I would live in the dorms and make lifelong friends that knew who I was as a person, what I believed in and what I wanted most. I would go to football games and be the most spirited person in attendance. I would lose the 'freshman 15' everyone else was gaining. I wanted to graduate with honors in something like communication, marketing or journalism. Upon graduation, I would easily find employment within one of those very distinguished vocations and have my own place that was neat, tidy and organized... that was success to me. I think it may still be. I planned to attend audition after audition, open call after open call. Every bit of my free time was to be spent pursuing my dream. My dream. The same dream that I told to very few people for fear of ridicule. Not fearing judgment on my talent or passion, but judgment on the dream itself. I now know that naysayers are everywhere. Someday I'll prepare my unborn children for this very thing. The very pathetic part of this though, is that I never gave naysayers a chance. I became my biggest naysayer. 'It doesn't pay enough to support you on your own. It isn't a consistent career. It is not an easy industry to get into-you don't know anyone big enough to vouch for you anyway. How do you expect to get discovered? Part of your dream has already died, what makes you think you can have the rest of it now?' Allow me to explain.

It was 2003 and I was 18. A beautiful girl, although I never truly knew that at the time. I cared about my family and friends and was so excited to be fulfilling my dreams. I was extremely naive. After getting accepted to a college I liked, and offered grants and scholarships from same college, I didn't bother apply anywhere else. You see where this is going, don't you? I had my first year completely covered, aside from books and extra expenses, with a track scholarship, an honor roll scholarship and the rest took over by grants. Financial aid was daunting... I didn't have someone to explain the whole process to me. My proud parents were sad to see me go but sharing in my excitement put me on a plane destined for 3000 miles away. This was something neither of them had the opportunity to do. Being the youngest in my family and the first to go to a university was definitely a proud moment for me. I can't even describe the feeling I had sitting on that plane. Looking out that window, saying goodbye to everything I've ever known... setting out on my own and doing a darn good job of it. I can still feel that burning hole where that feeling used to live. I arrived on campus 3 days before school started for in-processing. Within the first day I was already registered for classes, settled in the senior dorms as a freshman due to my track star status, set up my meal card, and finished the freshman orientation process. All that was left to do was get my paperwork signed off by the financial aid office and purchase my books and supplies. Therein lay my heartbreak. The moment my world, my dreams came crashing down on me. I can still remember the secretary's expression, though her face is a bit blurry. Pity. She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. She gently told me that the $9000 in grants I was given was just a notification they sent to every new-coming freshman as incentive to attend their college. I now know I could have sued-not that I had the means to do so- for false advertisement. Apparently my parents who, God love them, barely lived paycheck to paycheck made too much money according to the government for me to be granted $9000. The government doesn't care who is paying for your education. They don't care that your parents aren't able or in some cases (not mine) not willing. This sweet lady ran around the financial aid office like a chicken with her head cut off for what seemed like an hour-I'm sure it was truly only half that- trying her best to find money for me as I did my best to keep my tears at bay behind my lashes. I knew. The feeling was a slow oozing pain taking over my body, I had lost. She offered me student loans... I didn't want to do that but was willing if it meant I could stay. I don't like owing money to anyone. I payed for my first car in cash. I payed for my braces, in cash. I am a saver not an owe-er. Student loans were quickly an impossibility as well. I didn't have anyone available to cosign. Even if I did, I would immediately have to work to pay off the loans and therefor lose my track scholarship. I'd hit a dead end. I bought my return flight with my book money and begrudgingly boarded the plane after a payphone call home. By the time I got home enrollment for other colleges had been long closed. My parents welcomed me home but didn't know the first thing about consoling someone in this predicament. I got a job working summers at the moving company with my dad. He told everyone he worked with I was engaged (I wasn't) so they'd leave the only straight female worth looking at alone. His daughter. Me.

Fast forward a few years and we're back to where we started.
When we moved here there were no dental assistant positions available. For tax reasons I am not authorized to work outside of the military post so I got a job managing the coffee shop on post. I had created a pattern, as long as I was working I was successful-kind of. Most of my time working I was actively seeking other employment, something that might actually make a dent in my student loans... I finally got an interview to work at the dental clinic at the military hospital for active duty soldiers. I nailed it. They loved me and couldn't wait for me to start. As soon as I was able I started my hiring process with packet after packet of paperwork, fingerprinting, background check, background check, background check.... did I mention background check? Yep. I interviewed in May 2011. Informed the coffee shop I'd be leaving them, setting my last day of employment there a week into June. As I am sure you are well aware, it is November. I still have not started working. I am not technically unemployed, of course, but have no benefit of an employer. No paycheck. Apparently being a dental assistant for the government requires the same amount of security checks as a government spy... or at least the same waiting time. All of this to say I am not only alone, I am not working, I have no extra spending money, and I have no friends to speak of within this country- or continent for that matter, no real way of making friends and to be honest with myself- no desire to. I feel like I've been punched in that burning whole created so many years ago. That area of pain that has just become a dull ache from years of persistently avoiding it. I am not writing this to gain pity. I am writing for informative purposes only. I think I may even be informing myself. This is how I got here.

In the back of my mind, in the back of my heart-the dream still lives. I still discourage myself from time to time as a precautionary measure to ensure I don't set my hopes to high. Realistic to a fault I tell you. I may never become an actress. I enjoyed my first experience with community theater last spring. I had a blast, but it  reopened a cut too deep to ever fully heal and I think I am okay with that. I did a commercial before moving out here and it was one of the most exciting experiences in my life. I was edited out of it in the end but wasn't offended. It wasn't a speaking part and it was the acting I enjoyed so much, not seeing myself on TV. I still got excited every time that commercial aired. I was apart of that. I got paid, and paid well, to do something I loved. I still get accolades from people who recognize me from the play every now and then and I plan to audition again this winter. I haven't given up on my dream because, even though I initially thought it was His sick sense of humor, God has kept it in my heart for a reason. I have no idea what His reasoning might be but it isn't my place to question it. If and when opportunity presents itself, I promise to run full throttle toward it with all abandon. I just pray I know what opportunity is when, in fact, it decides to show up.

My husband Gary left again this afternoon. He is often gone for work purposes. Oh well, its Christmas money I suppose. At least that's what he reminded me when he kissed me goodbye. Jake is my refuge now. I will snuggle with him and watch whatever girly thing on television I can find and give my best efforts toward pushing past these gloomy feelings of failure and incompleteness. I may even make myself a cup of chai tea and practice monologues for the heck of it.

Until next time blog.