The first time I heard of Saratoga, Wyoming was last year around the Fourth of July. I was in the Tetons, visiting my boyfriend who worked seasonally as a Forest Technician in Vernal, Utah. As we were driving up, I was talking to a friend who grew up with me in Saratoga, New York and was living in Boulder at that time. She was going to be in Wyoming the same time we were for a weekend getaway.
I asked her what part of Wyoming, as I wanted to see if we could meet up since I hadn’t seen her in a couple of months. She replied to me “Saratoga, Wyoming — pretty weird right?” Searching it on Google Maps I soon realized the far space that was between us and how unbelievably vast the state of Wyoming was.
It’s pretty ironic when I look back and think about it. How my friend’s visit was the location where I muscled up the courage to move to.
When I arrived here, I didn’t have a job. It was a chancy move and really I was just going to ‘try it out’ and if things didn’t pan out, I always could have moved back.
A couple weeks into moving here, I found the perfect job with an amazing, supportive group of co-workers. I have always said that I’m really not made for reporting. I think of myself as fairly introverted — not the type of person who likes to delve too deep into others’ lives.
However, in this community, I was able to open myself up to a level that I have never reached previously. Talking to anyone in town is like talking to a friend; where you will always see a gracious smile and will do anything they can to help.
As I did know ahead of time that I was accepted to grad school in New York, I gave the paper notice in April that I would be leaving in August. They were pretty upset about it, but understood. As I have said previously, when I let them know, I started feeling a sense of denial and a feeling that I wasn’t making the right choice.
I am happy to say that I have finally figured everything out. It has been an interesting couple of months contemplating what my final decision was going to be.
Where I left it last time in my previous column, I was met with some mixed reviews from readers. Some told me that they thought my mind was made up. Although I was remiss to say it, I was making my move back to New York. Others thought it was left up to debate. It was a big question mark that they wanted to see solved.
Oddly enough, I didn’t know what I was going to do until last Thursday. Cutting it pretty close, I know.
See… while I was writing the last column, I had been reaching for some sort of loophole that would allow me to stay — and not only stay — but stay without having any regrets about passing up one of my greatest accomplishments; getting accepted to graduate school.
I started talking to planning professionals in the region. One, who mentioned that the University of Wyoming had a program in Planning through their Geography Department.
I decided to talk to an advisor within the program, and I was sold. It seemed like a great program and once again, I felt that the Wyoming mentality in an academic setting would suit me better.
However, it was early July at that point, and I had nothing ready. I had to really hustle and try to apply and get everything submitted. There were a couple of weeks of an all too familiar feeling of limbo along with frustrating application hold-ups. But then Thursday came.
What happened on that fabulous day was I received an email from the University of Wyoming providing me with the news, what I had been anxiously awaiting, for what was weeks; although it felt like months in itself. Acceptance.
I will be attending the University of Wyoming to pursue a graduate degree in Planning.
My excitement is through the roof at this point. I am elated that I get to stay. Although I won’t be continuing my time at the paper, I am so grateful for the opportunity that I was given and the people within the community I was fortunate to meet. It was a pleasure to provide the best content I could for such a great community.
My boyfriend will be staying in Saratoga and I will be commuting to Laramie. I’m kidding; I’m looking for a place in Laramie. You all know that joke about driving on a snowy night on I-80 in a Prius. It doesn’t end well.
Reader Comments(0)