The early days

Okay, let me start off by apologizing to everyone out there (especially Drake Cyanide, who has hyped me up a bit only to be dissappointed up to this point). I have been looking hard for a new job lately while working my current job, and although I would love to tell you all about it, I'm gonna save it for another post.

I gotta tell ya how ironic life is... so, years ago Drake Cyanide and I would hang out in various places in the world, and there was nothing I wouldn't say, nothing I wouldn't do (within marital laws mind you). And Drake was much, much more reserved (he had his shining moments though, don't get me wrong). Anyway, just this past Tuesday I came to his town and we got together and went out for some beers. How things experienced in life change a person. He has become me and I am now who he was. He flirts, he gets laughter, he is so outgoing now. I am much more introverted now. Shy to talk to women, not willing to tell a joke for a laugh, etc (although I have my moments every now and then). I guess what I'm saying is (in my best and very apt Fat Bastard voioce)...

Give me back my mojo, Drake!!!!!!!!

Okay, not really. Keep it. You've seen me. I have no need for it anymore. Go forth and flirt. You are no longer a Padawan. Good luck.

Oh my. I sound so depressed. Maybe I am. Drake has told me to vent in the posts and it will help. So I have begun to do so down below. There is a summary of things. I'm not sure what all of you will be interested in hearing, so I just touched on things here and there, If you want to hear more on anything particular, let me know and I'll elaborate. I could also use some help/new friends to help me out of this funk I'm in. Also, ask any questions that you want to about me. Nothing offends me (even though I'll pretend a bit every so often). Enough of this rambling, let me start with the early years. I will try to do all the history posts in chronological order, but this post is to sum up my first 12 years. It all started in the womb...


Okay, so maybe not back that far. Let me start by saying I grew up poor. Really poor.


My parents met in High School in New Jersey back in the 70's. My mother was 16, my father was 21 I think. They got pregnant, but she miscarried. You'd think one of 'em would have been scared into learning a lesson. But nope, she was pregnant at 17 and had me at 18. Oh yeah, she didn't finish High School either. Things were rough but at least we were a family. Three years later, they were separated. He didn't want any more kids, my mother got pregnant against his wishes. It was not the only reason, but it was the final straw. So from 3 to 6, it was the three of us (mom, me, brother). I have very few memories from that time frame. I remember acting older than I was (after all, I was the man of the house). I remember learning to ride a bike (also the first time that I learned to walk away when frustrated, cool off, then try again). I remember my baby brother cracking open his skull by falling down steps (as if that wasn't funny enough, the day he got out of the hospital, my babysitter was carrying him on her shoulders, tripped and my brother reopened his skull. Too funny). Lastly, I remember one night in particular. My mother was working that evening and I did something to get yelled at by the babysitter. She sent me to bed early and for some reason I took it hard an d felt very unloved. So I laid there with my head at the foot of my bed, sad as can be. My babysitter came in to check on me and I pretended to be asleep. She moved me around to be in bed the right way and gave me kiss on my forehead. As you get to know me through the future blogs, you'll realize that I am not very emotional. I don't know how to be. My mother was a closed bottle and my father wasn't really there, so I was raised to have thick skin. So it was really weird that my guard was down that night. And even weirder that all it took was a kiss on the forehead for me to feel loved.

So, as I turned 6, my mother was telling me that we had to find a new place to live. I assumed it would be with her boyfriend, a guy who owned his own pizza joint. When he asked her to marry him though, she ran from him. My hopeful future was gone. At 6. She instead started dating an auto mechanic and after two dates, we all moved in with him. This was the end of any chance to have a good life. I knew there was something different about him. He was completely different than the pizza joint owner, and that can't have been good. Although I had a bad feeling, I didn't let on to my little brother about it (I still felt like the man of the family, a role I've had for 3 years now). My brother and I shared a bed in our bedroom. We would wake up and find slugs on our walls and floor. He refused to let her work, so we lived on his meager salary. We often went without hot water and other stuff, but this guy always had his cigarettes, coca cola (at least 2 liters a day), and marijuana. Within the first week, we had gotten into it as I was running water for a bath. Fully clothed with my back to the tub, he pushed me as hard as he could. I fell back into the tub and hit my head on the tiling hard anough to crack it and put a huge knot on the back of my head. It was at that point that I first hated him. We moved again when I was 8, then again when I was 10, and again when I was 12. All within the same town and so I got to stay in the same school. Here's a bright spot to my childhood up to this point... After kindergarten, my teacher recognized above average intelligence in me and I was bussed to a school for an honors program from the 1st grade on, so no matter where we moved within the town, I was bussed to the same place. Other memories... I had to write a 50 page book reort on England and France in the 19th century. When was this? The 6th grade (We had a school strictly for the 6th grade and we were separated my abilities. Somehow I ended up in the top class and we got our asses worked off). I also broke both of my wrists at the same time in the 6th grade while playing football. And I think that's enough of the early years. There really is more than 2 paragraphs worth of stuff in the first 12 years of my life, but I've bored you all enough (especially since you know nothing about me in the present).

All of the good stuff started when I turned 13. But that's for another time.

Thanks for stopping by and getting all the way through this very boring post. Please drop me a comment letting me know you were here and say anything.

B'gye
Dirty