I recently took a trip to California to surprise my Dad for his 70th birthday. In between spending time with family, I stayed up late a couple of nights just reading previous journals and essays from high school. (I love to reminisce.) It baffles me how different my view on life was back then, and it also surprises me how long I’ve had the same ambitions.  Here is what I wrote in September of 1996, when I was 14 years old:

I do not know what exactly I will do for a profession, but I know it has to be something I enjoy. I’d love to be an artist or a photographer, because that is what I love doing. Having a big modern house would be wonderful, but I do not want to live in only one place in my lifetime. I have never been out of California except for a visit to Oregon when I was six or seven. I want to go to college and graduate school someplace in the US besides California. Afterward, I yearn to travel around the world, but especially South America, Europe, and Australia. I would live in an apartment for at least a few years in each place. The reason I’d like to live, instead of visit, these places is that the culture cannot be totally absorbed in a brief period of time. Some other things I want to do while traveling are sky dive, bungee jump, and mountain climb.

The crazy thing is, I hated Oregon when I was a child. This is the last state I’d imagined myself living in, and here I am in Portland! Moreover, I absolutely love it! It trips me out how my life has unfolded in such a way I foresaw as a young teenager. True, I have yet to visit Europe and Australia, but I suppose I was born with gypsy dreams. I couldn’t be more grateful that I’ve fulfilled so many of my ambitions and have stuck with what I love in life.