In the Beginning

I'm nearing a quarter of a century old. I know they say your 20s are for figuring out your life, but it's frustrating that we spent our entire childhood and young adulthood thinking we should already have it all figured out. The one thing that seems to be consistent is you're going to change, and that's going to make you change your mind.

Here's the back story:

When I was little, I wanted to be a... happy and stable person. My older sister wanted to be a marine biologist around that time. I don't recall really putting any value in what profession I might have as an adult. I was too busy climbing trees and watching bugs and squirrels and making things out of mud and sticks.

In junior high, I wanted to be a graphic designer. Jim Borger, a painter and mylar balloon designer I knew pretty well helped put that idea in my head without even trying. He was so nice and seemed so happy. I was very artistic. All I ever wanted to do was draw and paint and take weird pictures with my SLR Cannon, and then photoshop came about and I was in love.

In high school I got the idea that I wanted to be a funeral director. Originally, that came from wanting to be a doctor, but realizing that "because I want to help people" is nobel but not really enough to get me through that much school. In fact, it seems like that mentality is a great way to end up miserable as a doctor. So if I really wanted to help people, I figured I'd take my buoyant state of mind and apply it to a field still dealing in anatomy, but where I would be better able to directly help people in a way I was comfortable with.

My senior year of high school, I interned at a funeral home and I loved what I was doing. Admittedly, it got a lot of weird looks, but I guess I liked that at the time. The day after I graduated, I moved to Denver, knowing that Colorado is the only state that has no legally restrictive education requirements for people working in the funeral industry. That's not why I moved here. In fact, that knowledge is what kept me from getting involved with funeral service here at first.

I considered design school and was overwhelmed by the cost and terrified of failure. So I started working for a temp agency and lived with a friend on capital hill. My first placement was as a receptionist for an advertising design firm on 16th street mall. At the time, it seemed like I could see my future from that desk. But I was only 18.

I got pregnant on my 19th birthday... with twin girls. That was the point at which I basically accepted that ever being a funeral director or mortician would probably be a terrible idea and I should just settle into this idea of a somewhat more glamourous advertising job.

To Be Continued