Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Alaska? Why Alaska!?


Alaska?  Why Alaska!?

I’ve tried to think about when my fascination with Alaska first started.  I can’t pin point the exact beginning, but there are a few experiences that stand out to me. 
The first has to do with my love of maps.  I’ve always enjoyed looking at the map while on road trips… trying to figure out the mileage between stops and memorizing city names. Growing up, I’d also look at the weather page on the back of the first section of the newspaper.  Partly for the weather but mostly because it was a map.  I noticed the warmest and coldest parts of the United States.  I noticed how the temperature patterns move west to east.  And, I also noticed that Wisconsin usually had the same temperatures as Alaska.  I remember having a thought when I was about 7 years old, “I could live in Alaska, because it’s almost the same temperature as Wisconsin!”   

Another significant event happened my senior year of High School. I took an Ecology class and the teacher had taken a trip to Alaska the previous summer.  She started the class by telling us about her experiences hiking and camping in the Last Frontier.  She told us how lovely Alaska was in the summer… lots of wild flowers, sunshine at midnight, and miles and miles of untouched wilderness.  As she described one hike, when she had complete solitude- as though she was the only one who had ever been at that spot or had seen that exact sight, I imagined myself doing the same thing.  I wanted to go to Alaska so that I could be somewhere that nobody had ever been before; I wanted to experience that complete solitude.  I want to breathe the fresh air, feel the wind and sunshine on my face, and bask in the quietness that could only be found in Alaska.

The next experience involves a roommate I had in 2002 while living on Utopia Avenue in Salt Lake City.  She was from Alaska and when she moved in I said, “Oh you’re so lucky! I’ve always wanted to live in Alaska.”  She turned toward me; face scrunched in disgust, looked me up and down, and said, “Alaska?  Why Alaska!?”   I knew instantly that we would not be the BFF type roommates.  
I honestly didn’t think I’d ever have a chance to visit Alaska. Well, maybe when I was older I’d go on a vacation there. But, I chalked it up to one of those things you idealize and dream about when you are younger, but know that it won’t ever really happen… like becoming a movie star or the president of the USA.  That was, however, until I met a neighbor of mine in 2004 while living on University Street in Salt Lake City.  A group from church went on a skiing trip and I caught a ride home with him.  Along the way, he told me all sorts of stupid, lame, corny jokes … I loved it!  He said that he was a bus driver/tour guide in Alaska and tells those sorts of jokes to people all summer long.  WHAT?!?!!!!  I can go to Alaska AND tell stupid jokes to old people... sign me up!!!  He said that he could get me a job “no problem” for the coming summer.  My problem was that I already committed to being a camp counselor in Maine that summer (that’s a whole other blog post!).  When I got back from Maine, I had two more neighbors that worked in Alaska for the tour companies.  The stars were lining up… I had to go!

And go I went.  I worked near Denali National Park for Princess Tours during the summers of 2006 and 2007. I told amazingly wonderful corny jokes that only old people get a kick out of (how do you know the train has been here?   Cause it left its tracks.. bahahah!).   I saw some of the most spectacular views, majestic mountains, made lifelong friends, and yes… even walked somewhere I might have been the only person to have ever walked. It was wonderful!
I worked seasonally for two seasons in college and decided not to go back because I thought I needed a “real” job. I spent the next five years reminiscing on Alaska and telling everyone I could about how wonderful it is. I got another degree and moved from one “real” job to the next.

I decided to move to Alaska because once you have lived here and moved away… it stays with you, haunting you, until you make the plunge and move back.  I decided to listen to my inner voice telling me that I belong here. I chose to act and push my fears and doubts (of where will I work, where will I live, will I make any friends, my family and support network are so far away, what about the darkness of winter, what if I move there and fail.. then what) aside and just do it. 

It’s been just over a year since I made the move, and I can say that I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I live in a wonderful house, I have amazing friends, my support network is continuing to grow, I have a great job, and most of all, I am at peace with who I am and the things I have done in my life.


Oh, also… I get to see this whenever I want!! 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
And this
 
 
 
 
 
 
So come, come to Alaska. But beware; it might just captivate your heart.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

First Post


This is my first blog post.. a post that I have been both dreading and anticipating for a long time. This post is not monumental in anyway. It’s just words on the page.  I wanted it to be earth shattering good…the type of blog that you would read and say “whoa, that was good!”  Or the type that you would “share” with all your friends on Facebook.  But, that is not what this is.

People, friends, strangers, have told me for a while now that I should have a blog. And, because I like to have a monopoly of internet based sites that are dependent on a name, I snaged  kamicia.blogspot.com before anyone else could (I’m also kamicia@hotmail; @gmail; @yahoo; kamiciam on twitter …ok, you caught me.. I was a bit too late on getting kamicia on twitter, so I have to settle with kamiciam.. if you keep reading, you will find out that this happens a lot). 

A few months ago I posted on Facebook that I would start my blog before I turned 31.. that didn’t happen.  (A big thank you to my friend Chad who was the ONLY friend who followed up with me on that promise.. so thank you Chad!)  I didn't keep my promise not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t have anything to say.  But it's happening now. I still don’t have anything to say, but at least I’m writing.  And that’s what writers do, right? 

The name of my blog, Shoe Size 10.5, is also the name of a book that I will *someday* write.  It’s a quirky tale about by quirky life and my quirky sized feet of 10.5.  Almost no shoe maker makes size 10.5 and even less retailers sell size 10.5. Because of that, when I find a shoe sized 10.5 I almost always buy it, most of the time without even trying it on.. because I know it will fit.  This is very analogous to my life. Most things don’t quite fit right. They are a bit too small.. or just a bit too big and I’m left to just deal with it.  But every once in a while this magical moment comes along and I snatch it up!