And so where do I go from here...

It's been a while...deal with it. It has been crazy around here with school starting and I am looking for a different job. I have a few issue regarding this blog. I really feel like I need someplace to just bitch and vent and I really don't care who, if anyone reads this. I mean I am not out advertising this blog you know. I would love to have the link to my blog in my facebook page, but a lotr of my friends on there are people I went to high school with and I am not sure I want them reading all the shit I have posted about here. Hell I don't know. My most recent bitch is simply that I am not sure what to do about my nephew's b-day. I have a card and I will for sure send it to him...but a gift is much more difficult. I don't want to do cash or a gift card. He's 3 and I am thinking that a savings bond is a good idea. At least that way I know he will get the gift someday. This is all due to the fact that my brother and I are not currently on speaking terms. That certainbly muddies the waters. I can't even guarantee that he won't return the card to sender. Dickhead.

And so here's a story I haven't shared....

How bio-dad died. It will be 10 years on September 4th. I suppose that is why I feel compelled to discuss it now. To put it simply...he was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was on I-70 near Dayton, Oh and a car came onto the road from an on ramp crossing all lanes of traffic. It had been raining and the roads were slick. He could not avoid hitting her. When he did, he was thrown off his bike and over the top of her car. He went head first into the cement barrier that divides the north and south bound lanes, killing him instantly. I was 8 months pregnant with my daughter...his first grandchild. I had not talked to him in years. I was sad...but more in a "oh my great uncle died" sort of way. I didn't really know him and i didn't have a relationship with him. But I felt and still do that there was unfinished business between us. I went to the viewing. I was bitched at my his mom and put down by his wife (the 7th one). It was a closed casket and I didn't view the body. I suppose it sounds morbid, but I wish I had. I feel like there is no closure.

And so that damned little brother of mine....

So those of you who have read this whole thing have I am sure noticed a change in the tone of my posts since the beginning. There has been some shit going on with my brother over the course of the last few weeks, months, years, decades...depends on how you want to look at it. Starting with the immediate...he knows how to push my buttons...period. He is very much like bio-dad in many ways. He is egocentric, narcissistic and he is always right. I love his kids. When my nephew Charlie was born on September 1, 2005, I was in the room. I helped coach Jessica (SIL) through labor. I watched him emerge into the world and cried when he didn't for the first 2-3 minutes and we thought he never would. I love him as though he were my own. My niece was born 1 year and 3 weeks later on September 21, 2006. They moved 8 hours away 3 months before Carole was born. But she is the sweetest, cuddliest, beautiful little girl. I love her like she was mine too. The part that makes me sad is that I am afraid they will never know me or I them because of these awful feeling between my brother and I. But, I got some great news today...my sister, Jenny is due in March! I AM GOING TO BE AN AUNTIE AGAIN!! She just got married on April 12 and I am so happy for her and Andrew. I have 2 nieces on Chris' side, Chelsey and Emma. But your brother's and sister's kids are just.....you know?

And so....and so....and so....

Okay, critical juncture here. As I stated before, I was a pretty responsible kid. I really was and Mom was strict as hell! I mean I remember once she told me to cut up lettuce for supper. Well, I didn't have it done be fore she got home and I got grounded for a week. Now I know some of you are thinking that I must have been totally slacking off right? On the phone, watching TV, or just plain goofing off. Nope, I was trying to get my homework done first for cripes sake! I mean really! What a terrible kid!

So I also had very different parental views on what constitutes a "sex" talk. Mom was a cradle Catholic as am I so she gave me the whole, "You better wait to have sex or I am going to sew your fucking knees together!" (Mind you I found out later that she gave it up to bio-dad at age 15...what fucking ever.) Dad was cool, he would corner me in the car while he was driving...you know so I couldn't get away and I had to listen...smart tactic I suppose. He was always, "If you feel that you need sex to be a part of your life then please be responsible and use protection. You can always come to us and we won't judge you. Just don't fuck up your future by getting pregnant in high school." Apparently they had discussed this beforehand....or NOT!

I was all good little Catholic girl....I want to wait until I am married, blah blah blah. I mean it does have merit, I admit and sometimes I wish that I had waited but alas I did not. But that is a story for another time.

And so I have returned....

So, picking up where I left off.....when I was in kindergarten I decided that I didn't want to go with bio-dad anymore. I remember being scared of him. I was always in trouble and i didn't really like wifey #3 or her daughter Missy. So, he stopped coming around and he stopped paying child support. I don't recall the exact course of events, but in the 2nd grade a month before my 8th birthday, my stepfather adopted my brother and I. Bio-dad did not show up to contest, I remember the lawyers saying he wasn't showing as he had "car trouble." Whatever. But I can honestly say that allowing the adoption to go through was the best gift he ever gave me.

My new dad, Mike is wonderful. He is my dad. He is my father. He is great, I thank God for bringing him into my life. That is not saying that he is perfect mind you....but I love him very much. I also gained a sister. Dad had a daughter from his first marriage. Jenny did not live with us, although Mom and Dad did try to gain custody at one point. Jenny was with us every other weekend until she reached high school.....but that is her story.

I suppose the next major turning point in my life was my teen years. There are a couple of events that stick out in my mind and I am certainly not going through them all tonight, but I think that it is very important to mention the following facts. I was a good kid. I did well in school. I always did my homework and chores. At 16 I got a job and worked all through high school. I was responsible. I was THE responsible one....not my brother.

And so it feels like I must start with and so.....

There are a couple of other significant moments in my first 5 years that I think warrant mentioning simply because I think that they affected me in a major way. I am going to write about 2 of them now simply because they are very related. When I was about 4 years old, I was molested at the day care center that we attended. One of the workers, Rick, fondled me on more than one occasion. It's really weird because I'm not sure why I never told anyone until I was over the age of 25. He never threatened me, but I knew it was wrong and I thought that somehow I wold get into trouble for it. I thought that because I liked it I would be the one in trouble. The thing is, I have learned that a lot of kids who are violated feel this way. I mean...they are pleasurable sensations...but that doesn't make it right. He shouldn't have touched...I was a baby for all practical purposes for God's sake. I don't know his last name...if I did, I would be happy to let the world know. But I do not. I am fine telling all the details I do remember about him....because quite frankly if anyone else suffered because of him and reads this then they can know that they were not alone. His name was Rick and he was in his early to mid-20s in 1979-1980. He worked for about a year at the Frills and Freckles Daycare Center in Portland, Indiana. The center was attached to and run by the United Pentecostal Church on Elder St. I do not believe that he was a member of the church, just someone that the church was helping out by giving a job and a new start. That is my assumption because he lived out of his van that he parked in the alley between the church and the church's playground.

So, the second incident will require a little background story. By the time I am 5, bio-dad has visitation every other weekend. Shortly after he and Mom divorce he remarries. We are not present at the wedding, but we are shown pics! Whoopee! Wife #2, Beth is very sweet. She has a daughter, Stacy from a previous relationship. Bio-dad adopts Stacy...this info is not relevant to this revelation, but comes into play down the road so remember it! Beth becomes preggers but miscarries. I liked Beth, but all good things must come to an end. I don't recall how old I was but he married Wife #3 pretty soon after he left Beth. I can't remember #3's name. I know she was a nurse and she has a daughter who is 11 named Missy. This story is about Missy.

Missy loved to tell stories. Of course I believed her. I followed her everywhere. In retrospect...I feel sorry for Missy too. I think that she must have been molested at some point. She didn't seem to have a problem messing with me. Every time I was there. Of course I was probably 4 or 5 and again...if I tell...I will get into trouble. I don't blame her...I think she was a troubled kid too. This all happened after the daycare bit. They didn't happen at the same time, but one right after the other.

I have to mention...when we were at bio-dad's house...if anything happened, I was the one who got in trouble. It seems like Tommy (my brother if I haven't mentioned that before) was the golden child. I know he was little, but give me a break! It was almost like bio-dad felt guilty, if that's possible, about leaving before he was even born. What-fucking-ever. You know I suppose it could have been that I look like my Mom....except for the naturally curly hair and the dimples in chin and cheeks ( those came from bio-dad) and little Tommy Angel (barf,barf, gag, gag) is the spitting image of good old bio-dad. Anyhow by age five and following a traumatic experience...my visits with bio-dad end. The traumatic experience is that he didn't bring us home after our weekend and kept us for a whole nother week. There was no agreement...he just didn't bring us back. That kind of did me in. Bye-bye asshole!

And so it keeps dragging on...

The next several years are okay. I mean there are a couple of incidents I would just love to elaborate on though. When my brother was just a baby...maybe a month or two old. I remember being parked in a parking lot somewhere. Mom is in the car and standing outside drinking a beer is the always illustrious bio-dad. Now he and Mom are having a discussion, about what I have no idea. I was only maybe 2 1/2....so cut me some slack here. Anywho, I remember him flinging the beer bottle over his shoulder into the dumpster behind him (what talent) and then next thing you know he is leaning into the car. Before you can jump, he is just whaling on Mom. He is pushing her back into brother's car seat and he is just crying to beat hell. I remember thinking that I need to get him out and run inside for help....but I am frozen. I can't move. I can't run. I just sit there helpless, listening to the baby cry and Mom is getting beat on. What a wonderful memory! Good times.

And so it continues....

Alright, tonight is short and sweet. My brother is conceived and when dear old Mom is 6 mos along, bio-dad decides to leave with the bleach blond bimbo he is currently screwing. It is just before Christmas. The tree is all decked and the stockings are hung by the chimney with care....and the two year old (me) is crying. Or more accurately pleading...."Please don't go Daddy. Where are you going Daddy? Please don't go!" But a two year old is no match for bio-dad who thinks he is God! And off he goes. I distinctly remember him driving away with a blond.

A few months later and baby brother makes his grand appearance into the world. I am thrilled....or not! After all, what 2 year old can rationalize and understand this small smelly creature who is taking her place. Mom loves to tell the story of how I told her she could take him back. I contest that I didn't like him because he smelled like rotten cheese. She is assuming he just had a dirty diaper at the time. I digress...he was stinky ALL the time. Perhaps I will one day grow to love this creature....my baby brother. I am still waiting for that day to come 30 years later. Shit....that's a long time...I'm thinking it will never come!

And so it starts...

Okay, I have been a bit resistant to this whole thing. I mean do I really need "one more thing." But then I told myself...shit, I need an outlet. I need the whole world to know what it is like being stuck in my head! Because the truth is, it's making me CRAZY!!! I am so frickin sick of the people in my life telling me what to do and who to be. I am tired of trying and consequently failing to live up to every one's expectations! People fucking suck ass. Perhaps I should start at the beginning of my miserable life. I will not be finishing it all today by any means. So I suppose if anyone is out there reading my mindless drivel, they will have to keep coming back. And just to beat you smartasses to the punch...I know I should seek professional help. But then, I didn't ask for your fucking opinion now did I?

I was born and concieved at Fort Hood, Texas. I suppose that makes me an Army Brat. But we moved back home when I was about 6 months old...so not really. My bio-dad aka "The Sperm Donator." was in the motor pool in the Army. (He was a real trip.) He and mom were High School sweethearts...and don't we know how that song goes. But they broke up after he graduated in 1972 and left for the Army. So mom is doing great living life and dating other guys. Low and behold bio-dad is home on leave and has the odasity to get in a car wreck. He is at death's door...and weho comes knockin'? Dear old mom. Great, so they are back together. Mom graduates at the age of 17 in 1974. She spend the summer planning the wedding of the year. She turns 18 on August 31st and on September 7....the say "I DO." It is a rather large crowd of family and friends who see the newlyweds off on life of domestic bliss!!! (If only those poor fuckers knew!!)

So within a couple weeks they have moved down to Texas. My poor 18 year old Mom is miles from home for the first time in her life. She is desparately homesick. Bio-dad is a controlling asshole. NO they can't live on base. NO she can't have a job....he'll work a second one. NO she can't drive the car or basically do anything. But by God dinner better be ready and on the table whenever his ass comes strolling through the door regardless of the hour (which was sometimes midnight.) So I bet you can guess what happened next....that's right....me. I was born Nov. 7, 1975. Mom was in labor for 2 days while bio-dad slept in the waiting room. (It's really important to catch up on your zzz's when you have been out whoring around and poking every pussy that holds still long enough.) Now, I know you're thinking that it was common back then for the men to wait in the waiting room....he was allowed in...he didn't want to.

All is well and good. I come home and God only knows the Hell I witnessed over the next few years. BTW, did I mention that bio-dad really liked to hit? Oh yeah, and Mom was his target. Apparently, her hair was made for his pulling pleasure adn her body was a puching bag. What a winner!! As I said before, we moved back home to Indiana when I was about 6 months old. Since the marriage was SOOOO good (cough,cough) why not bring another baby into the family!! Wow, because that could only make things better! And so, Mom gets knocked up again.

This is where I must leave off tune in for more later, or don't....whatever.