Friday, May 27, 2005

I've always wanted... move to Ireland. In junior high, I bought a book that "promised" to teach me Gaelic and I went to bed listening to audio tapes of English being translated into Gaelic (you know, the kind with the monotonous voice droning on and on and on --- supposedly you can learn things that way...) Never mind that a mere 1% of the Irish population actually speaks Gaelic --- I was bound and determined to fit in with that miniscule minority. I watched John Ford's "The Quiet Man" for days on end (and it had absolutely nothing to do with the lead male being John Wayne; nope, nothing at all....) and bought maps and charts of the Irish countryside. I drew the floorplan for my Irish cottage and wrote papers in school about sheep-raising and such. I even chose Irish-sounding names for the 16 dogs that I planned to have. Yet here I sit, some 12 years later, still in Rockford, still watching "The Quiet Man" with just as much enthusiasm, but happy and content right where I'm at. Go figure...

Oh, don't worry, my interests matured from there --- for a couple years I wanted to move West and raise cattle. Uh huh, I drew up the floorplans for my ranch too! Maybe I should've been an architect?

The point? Never be afraid to dream dreams, but always have the foresight, too, to set goals. Or, as RWE so wisely said, "Hitch your wagon to a star!"

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