Life in Maine

Life in Minnesota

I suppose we like to believe that we ultimately have control over our lives, but I think that is probably a convenient notion we develop to cope with the fact that, despite our best laid plans, we can’t really predict where we’ll end up. Sure, we can try to steer our lives in a certain direction, but if you really analyze it objectively, there are too many unknown outside influences to allow us to take the straight path to our dreams. In truth, we often end up bending our “dreams” to fit our reality.

Many years ago, I “chose” a career in journalism based on a desire to have the opportunity to face each new day as a delicious, unforeseeable challenge. “News,” I reasoned, could not be predicted, and as such my job would change almost daily. For a variety of reasons, not the least of which I couldn’t admit to myself that I didn’t have an aggressive enough personality to pursue “news,” I never ended up working as a reporter. Instead, I drifted into technical writing and the allure of the possibility of “overnight” fortune that working for a start-up high tech company offers.

Unfortunately, my selection of high tech companies (or, rather, their selection of me) was not very fortuitous, and more than once I found myself faced with lay-offs rather than pay-offs. And while my decision to go in business for myself proved to be financially agreeable, it also put me in a situation whereby I was basically doing the same thing over and over again because clients were hiring me for my particular expertise.

This, of course, led to my epiphany that money does not buy happiness.

And so, after years of thinking about it and years of coming up with excuses why I couldn’t do it, I finally took the plunge three years ago and set a new course for my life. With a lot of trepidation, but even more resolve, I enrolled in the pre-vet program at the University of Maine.

Experts often say that you should carefully analyze any such life changing moves before embarking on a plan to ensure that the plan is reasonable. I think the experts are wrong, because if you give too much thought to what is really a life-changing event, reason will dictate that you stay right where you are. A large dose of naivety is essential when setting sail in a new direction.

Three years at the University of Maine is a case in point. The numbers are somewhat staggering and certainly sobering:

Travel to and from the Orono campus: roughly 33,000 miles over the course of three years.
Money spent on gasoline: approximately $3,500.
Amount of time spent driving back and forth: 704 hours (29 days).
Number of hours spent studying outside of class: roughly 960 (40 days).
Amount spent on tuition and books: $12,000.
Reduction in income by going back to school: 75 percent.

The irrationality of the act is further supported by the fact that I knew going in that even after all the commuting and studying and being humbled by classmates half my age, statistically I had a mere 5 percent chance of getting accepted into veterinary school. Due to issues of supply and demand, it is ridiculously difficult to get accepted into a veterinary school. It is the norm for there to be 800-1100 out-of-state applications for the 20-30 out-of-state openings at a school, and there are only 28 schools to choose from.

I applied to nine different schools. My first letter was an invitation to interview from the University of Minnesota. Out of 1010 applicants, they had chosen 265 to interview. I was elated – I was still in the running! I couldn’t wait to hear from the other schools. As it turns out, I shouldn’t have been so anxious. The initial good news was followed by one rejection letter after another. In a brief respite, I got somewhat good news from Colorado State – although I wasn’t selected outright, I was chosen for the alternates list, meaning that if enough of those that were selected declined (as could be the case if they were accepted to more than one program), I could possibly still be selected.

Then came more rejections. Rejections from schools that I knew were long shots. Rejections from schools I expected to get interview invitations from. Rejections from schools I had applied to as “back-ups” in case my first choices didn’t work out. In short, I was starting to feel rejected. What was wrong with my applications? What was wrong with my qualifications?

For the first time since beginning my “back-to-school” adventure, I was starting to get worried. What if I didn’t get accepted anywhere? A great many students that eventually get into vet school get in only after multiple tries. Did I have the resolve to stick it out another year and try again? Did I have the resolve to go through the torturous application process again?

But it was too soon to panic. It was the third week in February and I was off to Minnesota to interview. The University of Minnesota had planned three separate weekends for interviewing out-of-state candidates, and in addition to the interview they had a day of activity including tours, talks by current students, and question and answer sessions. I had signed up for the second weekend available, with my interview on Friday and the activities on Saturday.

A two hour drive to the Portland airport was greeted with the devastating news that my flight was cancelled due to snowstorms in the Northeast. And there would be no more flights that day. I’m sure I looked and sounded rather pathetic as I pleaded with the ticket agent to somehow find me a flight to Minneapolis so as to not quash my dream that hinged on this single interview. Yet no flights could be found. Dejected and panicked, I called the Director of Admissions at the vet school and let him know of my flight.

I, of course, wasn’t the only one that had had their flights cancelled that weekend, and he offered me three alternatives: I could do a phone interview instead, I could come during the week and they would find someone to interview me (but I would not be able to participate in any of the other activities), or I could reschedule for the single opening they had the following week. There was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity for some face time – my day of reckoning would have to wait another week.

Fortunately, the flight out a week later went smoothly. The two people that interviewed me tried their best to put me at ease, but there is no “at ease” in such a situation. I walked out of there wishing I had said “this” rather than “that,” and clueless as to whether I had done well or not.

In the ensuing weeks, each trip to the mailbox was approached with a sense of both anticipation and anxiety. I desperately wanted to know one way or another, but I desperately wanted it to be one way and not the other. I few more rejection letters made their way to my mailbox, further upping my anxiety level. Then on a Friday in early March, during my spring break from classes at UMaine, a 9x12 envelope from the University of Minnesota arrived. Rejection letters don’t typically require such volume, I hopefully reasoned as I set the envelope aside and looked through my other mail. And then it was time. I’m sure I was shaking as I broke the seal on the envelope, but I don’t really remember. What I do remember is seeing the word “Congratulations…” There was no more wondering about it. My little world was about to change.

And the change is just beginning. After looking at all the options, we decided that the only way we could work things out was to sell our house. So it is up for sale in a very weak real estate market. And, sadly, we have had to find new homes for the llamas. We had hoped to keep all five together, but no one was willing to take on that challenge like we had. So one has gone to Connecticut to join a lonely female llama, two have gone to a farm about 20 miles away to hopefully fit into a herd of 4 other llamas and 2 alpacas, and two will soon be heading to southern Maine to serve as guardians for an alpaca herd.

I’ve taken two trips to Minnesota in search of housing, but so far nothing has come to fruition in that respect. Classes start on August 29, so time is quickly running out on options. But one way or another, I’ll be there.

And then there is Maine. This year marks my 20^th in the state. It’s been an interesting journey, and I’m sure I will miss it greatly – I already am, and I’m still there. Yes, there are a lot of inconveniences in living what might be characterized as “on the outskirts of civilization,” but those inconveniences have been greatly overshadowed by the freedom such an existence provides. The freedom to leave your doors unlocked and the windows in your cars rolled down. The freedom to drive from one place to another without getting stuck in traffic. The freedom to walk your dogs off leash or let them run in the woods without being subject to a fine and looks of consternation.

On a positive note, everyone we’ve talked to that has lived in Minnesota or spent any amount of time there has raved about it. So things looks promising. But Minnesota has some big shoes to fill when being compared to Maine. I’m coming to you with an open mind, Minnesota, but you’re going to have to earn my respect.

Thank you for visiting. This site is updated when I have time to do so, so be sure to come back. And please tell others about this site. Copyright © 2007 by Greg Closter (greg@screamingplanet.com)