In Which We Don’t Go to San Francisco

Plans always have a way of changing on you when you least expect it, don’t they?

Once upon a time, I decided that I was going to apply for grad school. The USC School of Dramatic Arts to be exact. Which required an audition in San Francisco, because that’s the closest city to me that they hold auditions in. So my housemate and friend, Sydney and I made our way towards San Francisco this weekend. Our plan was the leave Newberg around 3pm on Friday and get to San Fran around 3am. My audition was in the morning, we would spend a day of touristing and then drive straight home on Sunday.

But apparently, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

In Medford, as we were getting gas, we were told we had a flat. A pretty bad one too. The gas attendant guy filled the tire up with air and spent two hours with us driving around looking at other options as to getting the tire fixed or replaced. It was 8:30 and we still hadn’t found anyone open. I made the decision that Sydney and I would stay in a hotel in Medford, get the tire fixed in the morning and then head back to Newberg.

So…no audition.

And I’ll admit, at first I was ok with it. It just wasn’t supposed to happen, I wasn’t as disappointed as I thought I would be, I just cared that Sydney and I wouldn’t get stranded on Mount Shasta with a flat tire in the snow or something equally freaky.

So we spend the night in the hotel and road-tripped our way back to Newberg today. We visited Jacksonville, where gold was first discovered in Oregon:

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And took fun pictures:

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And had coffee at this really cute coffee shop:

They made a mean vanilla latte.

They made a mean vanilla latte.

We stopped at Heaven on Earth for lunch, where I had a country fried steak (my food weakness is fried meat…odd for an organic, mostly vegetarian, sometimes vegan, hippie sort of person. Ah well):

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And stopped at a dam on I5 called the Winchester Dam to see if we could see fish jumping through the fish ladder.

We didn’t.

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For kicks we took a tangent to Tangent, OR…which consisted of this building:

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And literally nothing else. We ended up wondering around Salem for a bit and then we’re homeward bound.


Isn’t it odd though? How things can just change like that? In three months time, I will be graduating and who knows where I will be. For my whole life I’ve been told that school is the next option. But now…I could be done with school forever if I want (I don’t, but that’s beside the point). And maybe that’s why grad school was so appealing: I’d get an education in a field that I really love but don’t know much about and my future for the next three years would be relatively set.

Oh goodness you’ve gotta love security right? It’s never actually as secure as you think it is. I had a really great conversation with my dad, who I think is a lot wiser than I give him credit for. He reminded me that there isn’t ONE RIGHT OPTION. God isn’t going to come down and write on the wall EXACTLY what I’m supposed to do. I get the luxury and the freedom to pick. And I guess USC isn’t one of those options, which is fine. Dad reminded me of something that he’s been telling me since I was in junior high:

The right direction leads to the right destination.

No matter where I’m going, I can trust that the decisions that I make now do mean something in the bigger scheme of my life. I am sitting here in Newberg, OR for a reason, because of the things in my past. And the 30 year old me will be sitting wherever she is sitting because of the decisions I make today in the timing and way that they need to be made for my 20 year old self now.

My dad’s sister, my aunt Janice told me a similar thing in a letter she wrote me when I graduated high school and I’ve referred to this letter so often, it’s getting worn out: “Be diligent in setting your direction. It doesn’t matter whether you become a doctor or lawyer, missionary or waitress. What matters is the condition of your heart.”

One of my oldest friends Theresa sent me a little picture of a rainbow when I told her about my weekend. I don’t know if this is what she intended, but it made me think of when God gave Noah a sign through a rainbow: He would never flood the earth again and He is faithful to and protects His own. I can rest in that, and know that no matter the decisions I make, I walk with the God who made me and loves me. And that is enough.

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3 thoughts on “In Which We Don’t Go to San Francisco

  1. Great post, Lexie. And your dad is a wise man: I hope you can see life post-graduation as opportunity, as freedom, because you get to decide what you do next. Think of the possibilities! I know there are bills to be paid, etc., but you’ll have your entire working life (that is, 40 or so years) to get set in a career, so why not take a few years to explore your passions? (I had a random encounter with someone in a gas station at midnight last summer, and he told me that a Mexican restaurant in Tangent makes burritos as big as your head. Sorry you didn’t find that place, if you like head-sized burritos, that is.)

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