I can spend hours upon hours in front of my computer screen, searching through today's technology right at my finger tips, looking at millions of pictures & profiles of single people right in my area and around me... Yet, still after 18+ years of looking for that special someone, I am still single and alone.
Perhaps it was due to the fact that I wasn't trying hard enough or maybe trying too hard. They say that love will find it's way into your heart, when you least expect it. I've taken breaks between the meaningless relationships that I've had with other people. But it was always me who took the first initiative to start up the conversation or to ask someone out, yep, me the quiet & shy one. Who'da thunk it, right?!?! But this was only after years & years of sneaking around and living the dangerous life, having hook-ups and one-night stands with anonymous strangers. Does it sound like I'm beating around the bush here a little, straying a bit from the truth of the real story??
OK, so... here it goes.... I'm gay. Been living that lie for far too long now, was trying to hide it from the true people who I loved most of all, my family. But I was starting to feel ashamed of the sneaking around and having to make up excuses for not ever being around or for such a strange behavior on my part. It was like living a double-life, I had an alter-ego and a personality that no one in the world knew about, or at least I thought they didn't. Some now say that they kinda had an idea, most didn't really seem too surprised about it. I mean, who wouldn't think that of a 36-year old single male, a confirmed bachelor. But growing up, I kinda always knew in the back of my mind, but also struggled with it for most of my young adult life. Growing up in a small town, where everyone knows everyone, and there wasn't much to go on as far as research or information about what or how I should act. Except for television, thank goodness for cable, and then the Internet came along. But look where that has gotten me, still single & all alone.
Watching movies & television growing up, I was a sucker for the romantic movies. Just like all the fairy tale dreams that every young little girl grows up with, so did this awkward young boy growing up in a small redneck town. But also while being in such a redneck, homo-phobic society of such a small town, there was nothing around to identify myself with, except for the characters I saw in movies and television. So, I guess you could say I tried to act as masculine as I could just to fit in. But it didn't really help matters, it only confused me more than ever. What was I to say, how was I supposed to talk, to walk a certain way or to act in a certain manner that no one would think twice about. It was tough, but I am who I am, and I am happy with who I am now and who I have become.
The only thing that is holding me back now, is having someone to share the rest of my life with. I want the fairy-tale story book ending, the romantic movie scenario, riding off into the sunset, living happily ever after. I am a sucker for romance & for passion, call me a little old-fashioned, but I want what my parents had & what so many other people have had. I want to go on a date, several dates in fact, to be able to go out & feel comfortable with someone in public. Not to be ashamed of showing public displays of affection. I want to be able to hold someones hand, to give them a hug or a simple kiss, without people gawking at us or disapproving of that kind of behavior. What is so wrong with two people who care for one another that much, to give each other a hug or a kiss in public or wherever it may be? As long as we aren't being rude or disgusting about it, there shouldn't be a problem with it. I mean come on people, this is the 21st century here, wake up & realize that the world is changing around you every minute, every second, every day.
I guess what I am trying to get at here is what exactly I am looking for... and that is somebody to love. Doesn't everyone deserve to love and be loved? I have spent most of my life taking care of the people around me, making sure they were happy and loved, but now as I get older, I think it's time that I start taking care of myself & find a little happiness of my own. I want to not come home to an empty house everyday, I want someone to be there to talk to and share stories about our days with. Someone who will be there no matter what, good or bad, rich or poor, in sickness or in health... to be there for each other. I want to hold someone in my arms & to be held in their arms as well, to look into their eyes and know that they are the reason that I continue to live & breathe and to strive to be a better person, in body and soul. A soul mate, who I am meant to be with & love that person til the day I die. The ONE.
Passion, that is something that you don't hear much of anymore these days. I want it, I need it, I gotta have it. To be in a crowd of people, you look across the room at them, your eyes meet & you focus on them and no one else seems to even exist around you. You can give them that certain look, and they just know, without words or even the slightest hint or gesture, that they are your world & they mean everything to you. Their love is the only love you want & need & the only love that matters in the world. Two people, coming together, two heartbeats beating as one, with more love for that one person than for any other living person or thing. Only God could love that person more than you do. That is true, passionate love.
I want that kind of passion & romance, to have my last FIRST kiss with the LAST person I will spend the rest of my life with. And I pray about it every day and every night, that God will send them to me. Because I do believe timing is everything & that everything happens for a reason. The people we meet everyday, we meet for a reason, and the things that have happened to us, good or bad, only makes us stronger & prepares us for the future and for whatever God has in store for us. So, I may not have met my soul mate yet, but I have no regrets for the things I have done in my life. I consider it a journey, building up to the greatest love story that has yet to be written. This journey continues, the book hasn't been finished yet, but someday I will have my happily-ever-after. Just gotta keep dreaming & Baby... I dream big!
***Side note: To all of my family or friends who might be reading this, who are shocked or upset or disgusted with the things that you have read, I am sorry that you feel that way. I would hope that you could find it in your hearts to accept me for who I am, because I haven't changed & don't intend to change for no one. Love me for me or you never really loved me at all. Just remember, this was not a decision or a choice to be like this, it is the way I was born and it is not contagious like some sort of disease, you can't catch it if I sneeze or cough on you. I just wanted to let everyone know that I am tired of hiding & keeping secrets from the people that I love the most, MY FAMILY & MY FRIENDS.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Mama's home cooking
Yes, I might have been a momma's boy, but who wouldn't be with a mom like mine! She has taught me so much over the years, I owe so much to her for teaching & preparing me for whatever life had to offer me.
I can remember early on, being with her wherever she went, usually wrapped around her legs (mostly hiding my shy self from others). But most of the time spent together with her was spent in the kitchen. Ain't it funny, how if you have a party at your house or if guests or family or friends show up, you almost always end up in the kitchen!?!?! That's just how it was in our family, from both of my grandmothers to all of my aunts & uncles. The tradition has been handed down from generation to generation, the skills that those women had & taught to each one of their children & even to some of their grand-children can not be taught in any cooking class!!
My dad's mother, being from the mountains, had breakfast cooked and on the table every morning by the time everyone else had gotten up. And even though I did not live with her, we visited often, and there would always be left overs wrapped up and either sitting in the warming-section of the oven or wrapped in foil sitting on the table... usually waiting for me. She would almost always have extra leftovers, especially if she knew I was coming, he he. She called me her "fat baby" or her "fat little butterball" (another reason my nickname growing up was "Turkey"), because I was the youngest grand-child on my father's side of the family and also the fattest one in the crowd. This woman used to keep 5-gallon cans of LARD under her cabinets. And used it religiously, in her made from scratch Buttermilk biscuits, that no restaurant could even come close in comparison to. She only used Neese's Sausage, farm-fresh eggs that were delivered to her on a weekly basis, the water she drank came from a well at my aunt's house who lived out in the country, she drank her coffee in a cup & saucer - always filled to the top, so she could overspill some into her saucer, that was how she sipped it while taking her medicine each morning. This was her everyday ritual, that I enjoyed so much to watch her do while I would stay with them. She worked in her kitchen like a well-oiled machine, never asking for help, but would obviously appreciate the company if you asked to just sit and watch in amazement the artistry of this fabulous cook in motion. Sometimes it looked like she was feeding an army, every burner on her stove was full of pots overflowing with the most amazing mouth-watering aromas that you have ever experienced. Cracker-Barrel didn't have nothing on her! I miss those meals so much, I would still be as big as a house if I could eat that food of hers everyday, and I would too. Love & miss you Grandma Ragan!!!!!!!!!
My mom's mother, being from the country & a mother to 9 kids, seemed more like the mother to any and all that would come around, she was used to cooking for an army. I think her motto was, we'll keep you up all night before we would let you go to bed hungry! Sure, there might have been several sleepless nights when they were all growing up, times were hard back in those days for everyone (and still are to this day as well). But they survived, the best they knew how at the time. Between two grandmothers who knew who to cook, no wonder I was as big as I was. I also learned at any early age, that I should always try to eat everything on my plate, because there were kids out in the world who weren't as fortunate to have anything to eat. To this day, it is very rarely, that I don't clean my plate at every meal. It is very rarely though, that I do sit down at a table at every meal. Living by myself, even when I lived with my parents, we almost never sat around a table for meals, unless we went out to eat somewhere to a restaurant or at someone elses house. It was customary to sit in front of the television with your food, and became a tradition that we still do today. Although, I do have a dining room table in my house, it is merely for looks (to fill the space or to catch all the mail & clutter that I throw on it), but what I wouldn't give to be sitting there now, surrounded by both grandmothers, who have passed on now, and to have their best dishes in front of me while I enjoyed their fine cooking skills ... (shoveling it in as fast as I could & asking for 2nd or 3rd helpings if any were left). YUMM :)
Our family reunion is coming up in little over a week now, traditionally held on my great-grandmothers & mines birthdays (August 12th & 15th). There will be some of the relatives of the some of the best cooks I have ever known, and I can't wait to dig in to all those delicious casseroles & more desserts than any bakery around. It is not as big or as celebratory as they used to be, now that most of the older relatives have gone on, but it is still a good gang of people & food that one has to just see to believe. If you would like to attend, contact me & I can give you all the details (when & where & what to bring, lol).
I can remember early on, being with her wherever she went, usually wrapped around her legs (mostly hiding my shy self from others). But most of the time spent together with her was spent in the kitchen. Ain't it funny, how if you have a party at your house or if guests or family or friends show up, you almost always end up in the kitchen!?!?! That's just how it was in our family, from both of my grandmothers to all of my aunts & uncles. The tradition has been handed down from generation to generation, the skills that those women had & taught to each one of their children & even to some of their grand-children can not be taught in any cooking class!!
My dad's mother, being from the mountains, had breakfast cooked and on the table every morning by the time everyone else had gotten up. And even though I did not live with her, we visited often, and there would always be left overs wrapped up and either sitting in the warming-section of the oven or wrapped in foil sitting on the table... usually waiting for me. She would almost always have extra leftovers, especially if she knew I was coming, he he. She called me her "fat baby" or her "fat little butterball" (another reason my nickname growing up was "Turkey"), because I was the youngest grand-child on my father's side of the family and also the fattest one in the crowd. This woman used to keep 5-gallon cans of LARD under her cabinets. And used it religiously, in her made from scratch Buttermilk biscuits, that no restaurant could even come close in comparison to. She only used Neese's Sausage, farm-fresh eggs that were delivered to her on a weekly basis, the water she drank came from a well at my aunt's house who lived out in the country, she drank her coffee in a cup & saucer - always filled to the top, so she could overspill some into her saucer, that was how she sipped it while taking her medicine each morning. This was her everyday ritual, that I enjoyed so much to watch her do while I would stay with them. She worked in her kitchen like a well-oiled machine, never asking for help, but would obviously appreciate the company if you asked to just sit and watch in amazement the artistry of this fabulous cook in motion. Sometimes it looked like she was feeding an army, every burner on her stove was full of pots overflowing with the most amazing mouth-watering aromas that you have ever experienced. Cracker-Barrel didn't have nothing on her! I miss those meals so much, I would still be as big as a house if I could eat that food of hers everyday, and I would too. Love & miss you Grandma Ragan!!!!!!!!!
My mom's mother, being from the country & a mother to 9 kids, seemed more like the mother to any and all that would come around, she was used to cooking for an army. I think her motto was, we'll keep you up all night before we would let you go to bed hungry! Sure, there might have been several sleepless nights when they were all growing up, times were hard back in those days for everyone (and still are to this day as well). But they survived, the best they knew how at the time. Between two grandmothers who knew who to cook, no wonder I was as big as I was. I also learned at any early age, that I should always try to eat everything on my plate, because there were kids out in the world who weren't as fortunate to have anything to eat. To this day, it is very rarely, that I don't clean my plate at every meal. It is very rarely though, that I do sit down at a table at every meal. Living by myself, even when I lived with my parents, we almost never sat around a table for meals, unless we went out to eat somewhere to a restaurant or at someone elses house. It was customary to sit in front of the television with your food, and became a tradition that we still do today. Although, I do have a dining room table in my house, it is merely for looks (to fill the space or to catch all the mail & clutter that I throw on it), but what I wouldn't give to be sitting there now, surrounded by both grandmothers, who have passed on now, and to have their best dishes in front of me while I enjoyed their fine cooking skills ... (shoveling it in as fast as I could & asking for 2nd or 3rd helpings if any were left). YUMM :)
Our family reunion is coming up in little over a week now, traditionally held on my great-grandmothers & mines birthdays (August 12th & 15th). There will be some of the relatives of the some of the best cooks I have ever known, and I can't wait to dig in to all those delicious casseroles & more desserts than any bakery around. It is not as big or as celebratory as they used to be, now that most of the older relatives have gone on, but it is still a good gang of people & food that one has to just see to believe. If you would like to attend, contact me & I can give you all the details (when & where & what to bring, lol).
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Find your voice
Let the words flow, the tension just melts away & all bad thoughts just disappear. That was my release, to be able to show how I felt or whatever it was that I was thinking about.
I've always been known as the "quiet one". The listener, instead of the talker, the one everyone tells their secrets to. You could usually find me lost somewhere in the background, blending into the furniture or the wall, oblivious to most... but secretly taking it all in, every word, every syllable, every gesture, every cuss word, secret & gossip that could be spread about whoever or whatever. Most would simply dismiss me or pretend I wasn't really listening - but even if I was, who would I tell? who would listen to me??
I would try to act like I fit in, hanging around the so-called "in crowds" or whatever cool group of friends that attempted to pay me any attention or even acknowledge that I existed. Too quiet to be heard by most, always being told to "speak up, we can't hear a word your saying", or being told to "shut up, you're opinion doesn't matter to us". Most of the time, just taking it all in, trying to race through the words and phrases in my head, sorting them out & trying to come up with a quick comeback or funny & witty compliment to whatever was just said. The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, about to be spoken, as I opened my mouth... um... BOOM, too late, the topic had already changed and they would have started talking about something completely different all together. So I usually just kept quiet, keeping to myself & minding my own business. I became a loner, keeping my voice down low enough to where if I said any word at all, it wouldn't really matter if it was heard or not. Keeping all those words and feelings locked deep inside for so long, I had to find a release or I was gonna just explode!!
So one sunny spring day, standing outside at the end of our neighborhood street, facing the tall trees that bordered the corn field that surrounded the back and side of our house...after noticing I was the only one around, not a soul in sight. All the neighborhood kids had gotten on their bikes and rode to another location, leaving me by myself to play all alone as usual. I screamed out towards the field, thinking maybe a few of them were out there where I couldn't see them. That's when the spring breeze ran through the tree tops and I heard an echo of what I had just shouted from the top of my lungs.... "HEY"... and again it answered back to me... "HEY". A grin ran from ear to ear, as I realized that was my own voice echoing throughout the neighborhood and into the empty corn field. So, I decided to do it some more, screaming out different words, just to see if it would be repeated again back to me. Screaming louder and louder each time, til the sounds vibrated thru my ears and inside my brain. I started to hold the words longer, until I realized that I was singing the words to some song that I don't even remember what it was now. But it dawned on me then and there that I could sing & it sounded pretty good, if I do say so myself. I went running out back behind the house to our garage, after an hour of hearing my echos outside ringing thru the breeze, I wanted to turn on my dads old shop radio and see if I could sing along with the songs that were playing. Dang, I was good, or at least I thought so. I started singing all the time, every waking moment of the day and into the nights. My mom says sometimes I would be singing in my sleep. Secretly, I would sing myself to sleep each night, til I was either continuing the song in my sleep over and over again or because I was such a night owl that I would just stay up all night long singing the same songs over and over again until I could memorize every word.
It wasn't til much later in life, that my mom informed me that even as a very young kid, that when we would go through the grocery store aisles, every product I saw on the shelves... I would point to them and start singing the jingles that went to it. I loved watching TV, and most commercials always had some catchy little jingle for their products. I loved it, they were short & easy to remember. Slowly I started listening to songs on the radio and recording them on our old tape recorder... then I would play them back over and over again til I could write down all the words to the song. I was hooked, I had sheets upon sheets of lyrics to songs I had heard & fell in love with over the years, not to mention a large collection of cassette tapes with those same songs on them.
It was nearing the end of my sophomore year in high school, that as I was walking across the courtyard between classes that Ms. Libby Brown, the music teacher, saw me walking towards her & stopped me in my tracks. She kinda bent downward, turning her head & looked upwards directly into my eyes and asked me, "Why have you not signed up for the mixed ensemble/concert choir yet? I remember you from elementary school, you're Eric, right? I remember you had such a beautiful voice. I've been waiting on you for two years now. I had better see you in there next year."
I didn't know what else to say but "OK", with a smile from ear to ear. Surprised and happy to see that someone had heard my voice and REMEMBERED IT!!! Even though, I had already signed up for all my required classes for my upcoming junior year, we still had a week left to make any necessary changes in our schedules. I had to make a very necessary change! It was the best thing I ever did and enjoyed every minute of it. Although, it was not the norm for a junior to join the Beginning Mixed Ensemble with other Freshmen, Ms. Brown made an exception for me and one other Junior student (Clay Taylor). She told us that we had to at least have the beginning mixed under our belts in order to join the Concert Choir in our Senior Year. Those last two years of high school was the best years of my life. I gained more confidence, started talking more, I had finally found my voice!
I've always been known as the "quiet one". The listener, instead of the talker, the one everyone tells their secrets to. You could usually find me lost somewhere in the background, blending into the furniture or the wall, oblivious to most... but secretly taking it all in, every word, every syllable, every gesture, every cuss word, secret & gossip that could be spread about whoever or whatever. Most would simply dismiss me or pretend I wasn't really listening - but even if I was, who would I tell? who would listen to me??
I would try to act like I fit in, hanging around the so-called "in crowds" or whatever cool group of friends that attempted to pay me any attention or even acknowledge that I existed. Too quiet to be heard by most, always being told to "speak up, we can't hear a word your saying", or being told to "shut up, you're opinion doesn't matter to us". Most of the time, just taking it all in, trying to race through the words and phrases in my head, sorting them out & trying to come up with a quick comeback or funny & witty compliment to whatever was just said. The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, about to be spoken, as I opened my mouth... um... BOOM, too late, the topic had already changed and they would have started talking about something completely different all together. So I usually just kept quiet, keeping to myself & minding my own business. I became a loner, keeping my voice down low enough to where if I said any word at all, it wouldn't really matter if it was heard or not. Keeping all those words and feelings locked deep inside for so long, I had to find a release or I was gonna just explode!!
So one sunny spring day, standing outside at the end of our neighborhood street, facing the tall trees that bordered the corn field that surrounded the back and side of our house...after noticing I was the only one around, not a soul in sight. All the neighborhood kids had gotten on their bikes and rode to another location, leaving me by myself to play all alone as usual. I screamed out towards the field, thinking maybe a few of them were out there where I couldn't see them. That's when the spring breeze ran through the tree tops and I heard an echo of what I had just shouted from the top of my lungs.... "HEY"... and again it answered back to me... "HEY". A grin ran from ear to ear, as I realized that was my own voice echoing throughout the neighborhood and into the empty corn field. So, I decided to do it some more, screaming out different words, just to see if it would be repeated again back to me. Screaming louder and louder each time, til the sounds vibrated thru my ears and inside my brain. I started to hold the words longer, until I realized that I was singing the words to some song that I don't even remember what it was now. But it dawned on me then and there that I could sing & it sounded pretty good, if I do say so myself. I went running out back behind the house to our garage, after an hour of hearing my echos outside ringing thru the breeze, I wanted to turn on my dads old shop radio and see if I could sing along with the songs that were playing. Dang, I was good, or at least I thought so. I started singing all the time, every waking moment of the day and into the nights. My mom says sometimes I would be singing in my sleep. Secretly, I would sing myself to sleep each night, til I was either continuing the song in my sleep over and over again or because I was such a night owl that I would just stay up all night long singing the same songs over and over again until I could memorize every word.
It wasn't til much later in life, that my mom informed me that even as a very young kid, that when we would go through the grocery store aisles, every product I saw on the shelves... I would point to them and start singing the jingles that went to it. I loved watching TV, and most commercials always had some catchy little jingle for their products. I loved it, they were short & easy to remember. Slowly I started listening to songs on the radio and recording them on our old tape recorder... then I would play them back over and over again til I could write down all the words to the song. I was hooked, I had sheets upon sheets of lyrics to songs I had heard & fell in love with over the years, not to mention a large collection of cassette tapes with those same songs on them.
It was nearing the end of my sophomore year in high school, that as I was walking across the courtyard between classes that Ms. Libby Brown, the music teacher, saw me walking towards her & stopped me in my tracks. She kinda bent downward, turning her head & looked upwards directly into my eyes and asked me, "Why have you not signed up for the mixed ensemble/concert choir yet? I remember you from elementary school, you're Eric, right? I remember you had such a beautiful voice. I've been waiting on you for two years now. I had better see you in there next year."
I didn't know what else to say but "OK", with a smile from ear to ear. Surprised and happy to see that someone had heard my voice and REMEMBERED IT!!! Even though, I had already signed up for all my required classes for my upcoming junior year, we still had a week left to make any necessary changes in our schedules. I had to make a very necessary change! It was the best thing I ever did and enjoyed every minute of it. Although, it was not the norm for a junior to join the Beginning Mixed Ensemble with other Freshmen, Ms. Brown made an exception for me and one other Junior student (Clay Taylor). She told us that we had to at least have the beginning mixed under our belts in order to join the Concert Choir in our Senior Year. Those last two years of high school was the best years of my life. I gained more confidence, started talking more, I had finally found my voice!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The journey begins...
I remember growing up out in the country, just me , my brother and my 2 parents. Living in Advance, NC, down a long gravel road, next to a cow pasture and two chicken houses. That is a smell every city kid should have to experience and remember for the rest of their lives. I can still remember to this day, the time that we were moving away from there to come to the small town of Yadkinville. It was me and a few of my cousins riding on the back of my dad's truck, my mom and aunt were driving up front, while us kids were sitting on the back tailgate riding down the road (back when it was ok to do that sort of thing). And this huge spotted hog came barreling down the gravel road behind us & all us kids were trying to get it to chase after us. That is all I can remember of that memory. I have trouble remembering most of my early childhood, so I tend to rely mostly on other people's memories & recollections of it. The middle parts of my childhood into adulthood, I've tried to forget most of it & just tried blocking out all the bad stuff at least. But some things a person just can't forget or shouldn't.
Story has it that I was a puny little kid, a runt if you will. The doctors ran all kinds of tests on me, missdiagnosing that I would never reach the height of 5 feet or grow to weigh over 100 pounds if even that much. Even the pastor who helped to build our house & the houses in our neighborhood told them that I was too small to go to school, as they had to pick me up to put me on the bus, because I was too short to reach the first step. I was even supposed to be like the boy in the bubble, was allergic to everything that I came into contact with, they even told my mom to wrap my mattress & pillows in special plastic sheets and covers. So I kinda knew I was different from even an early age.
So began the long journey into my school days, bullied because I didn't seem to fit in. Shy, awkward, picked on for having a thick head full of hair & long eye lashes, everyone assumed that I was a cute little girl. Even mistaken me as my brother's little sister. Thanks goodness when puberty set in & boy did it ever!!! Hair growing in places where there probably shouldn't be hair & falling out of places where it DID belong. It was around the age of 14, shortly after starting high school, when I had noticed that my hair was falling out of my head in large patches, just running my fingers thru my full main of hair & would come out in clumps. It was shortly after graduation that I started shaving my head, fed up with the whole thinning - receding pattern it was making. But like a wise man once said, God only made a few good heads, the rest he put hair on!!
It was also the start of my freshman year that I got my braces... are you ready for this? Three rows of teeth! That's right, 3 rows. Not complete rows, mind you, but fangs that were protruding in front of my regular row & baby teeth in the back that were simply pushed out of the way for new ones & just never fell out. It was a nightmare to me, one reason why you will never find a picture of me smiling with an open mouth before that time. But glad to report that after those gawd-awful things came off, I am proud to smile for anyone & everyone that wants to see them. Have been told it is my best feature, not bragging, just convinced, he he. By the way, my brother is still upset to this day that I was able to get them & he wasn't. His grill was not as messed up as mine though, but still a nice smile when you can get one out of him.
My brother, my tormentor, my Idol - the one person that I always looked up to & tried so hard to be just like him. Though to know us, we are as different as night & day, but so much alike in many ways. Just ask us if we are related, and we will both deny it, but kinda hard to do when we get told repeatedly how much we look just alike. But of course, I have always been the pretty one, make no doubt about it! Thick as thieves, would kill for one another if we had to. And have, just ask us about our sister buried under the pool in the back yard of our old house (inside joke, the pool doesn't exist... anymore). But alas, it took us a long time to get to where we are today, with alot of heartaches & headaches. A major pain in my ... head, literally. But those are stories for another time, just brotherly love & we will leave it at that. I want to be just like him though, when I grow up. *(how do i get there from here)
Anyways, that is enough for tonight.... still a long ways to go & many more stories where these came from. Trust ME!!
Story has it that I was a puny little kid, a runt if you will. The doctors ran all kinds of tests on me, missdiagnosing that I would never reach the height of 5 feet or grow to weigh over 100 pounds if even that much. Even the pastor who helped to build our house & the houses in our neighborhood told them that I was too small to go to school, as they had to pick me up to put me on the bus, because I was too short to reach the first step. I was even supposed to be like the boy in the bubble, was allergic to everything that I came into contact with, they even told my mom to wrap my mattress & pillows in special plastic sheets and covers. So I kinda knew I was different from even an early age.
So began the long journey into my school days, bullied because I didn't seem to fit in. Shy, awkward, picked on for having a thick head full of hair & long eye lashes, everyone assumed that I was a cute little girl. Even mistaken me as my brother's little sister. Thanks goodness when puberty set in & boy did it ever!!! Hair growing in places where there probably shouldn't be hair & falling out of places where it DID belong. It was around the age of 14, shortly after starting high school, when I had noticed that my hair was falling out of my head in large patches, just running my fingers thru my full main of hair & would come out in clumps. It was shortly after graduation that I started shaving my head, fed up with the whole thinning - receding pattern it was making. But like a wise man once said, God only made a few good heads, the rest he put hair on!!
It was also the start of my freshman year that I got my braces... are you ready for this? Three rows of teeth! That's right, 3 rows. Not complete rows, mind you, but fangs that were protruding in front of my regular row & baby teeth in the back that were simply pushed out of the way for new ones & just never fell out. It was a nightmare to me, one reason why you will never find a picture of me smiling with an open mouth before that time. But glad to report that after those gawd-awful things came off, I am proud to smile for anyone & everyone that wants to see them. Have been told it is my best feature, not bragging, just convinced, he he. By the way, my brother is still upset to this day that I was able to get them & he wasn't. His grill was not as messed up as mine though, but still a nice smile when you can get one out of him.
My brother, my tormentor, my Idol - the one person that I always looked up to & tried so hard to be just like him. Though to know us, we are as different as night & day, but so much alike in many ways. Just ask us if we are related, and we will both deny it, but kinda hard to do when we get told repeatedly how much we look just alike. But of course, I have always been the pretty one, make no doubt about it! Thick as thieves, would kill for one another if we had to. And have, just ask us about our sister buried under the pool in the back yard of our old house (inside joke, the pool doesn't exist... anymore). But alas, it took us a long time to get to where we are today, with alot of heartaches & headaches. A major pain in my ... head, literally. But those are stories for another time, just brotherly love & we will leave it at that. I want to be just like him though, when I grow up. *(how do i get there from here)
Anyways, that is enough for tonight.... still a long ways to go & many more stories where these came from. Trust ME!!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Intro
A little intro into the world of "E-Rockers"... a 36 year old single male on the edge of my 37th birthday in just a few short weeks. I've always been a fan of writing my thoughts and ideas down, mom said I always preferred pen & papers over any toy you could ever give me. But as I grew older, I became a fan of typing... so much that I would rather be put on a medieval torture rack than have to write with a pen or pencil in my hand these days (mainly due to the agony of arthritis from years and years of working in a textile factory).
This will be a new adventure into discovering the true writer/ novelist hidden deep within me. As I put my thoughts, fantasies, dreams, torments & rants about everyday life into words, from growing up in a big family to living in a small town. Hopefully, the words will come easy to write as I have always been better at writing out what I think opposed to talking (super-shy). For years, I have been able to talk to anyone online in those little chat rooms, to even texting along with the best of them. But when it came to being out in a crowd & having to say more than 2 words... AGONY!! I could never think of the right words that I wanted to spit out of my mouth or barely put a declarative sentence together to fit into any conversation before the topic had been changed and the group had moved onto another discussion. It took me years before I could even sit in public at a restaurant, without the fear of everyone watching me while I sat there with my back to the wall, face downwards at my plate, eating. Knowing that they were all staring at my every move, paranoid that I had a spaghetti noodle stuck to my chin or ketchup stains on my shirt. There is a word for that kind of behavior... but that is all in the past.... BREAKING OUTTA MY SHELL HERE NOW!!
I hope that these entries will be helpful or inspiring to any and all my readers in some way or another. Because I have always believed deep in my heart that everything happens for a reason, every person we come in contact with on a daily basis happens for a reason... You never know who's life you are about to change, just giving them a smile, or by saying 'Hello' to someone, or by throwing your nose up in the air and walking past them as if they never existed. Because every life is important, every thing you do & every word you say is important, ya never know what it could do to someone else & could change their life forever. I hope that I can make the slightest difference & someday maybe even be remembered in the history books for something that I might have said or done. And who knows, it could come from this blog & might even answer my hypothetical question, "How do I get there from here?"
This will be a new adventure into discovering the true writer/ novelist hidden deep within me. As I put my thoughts, fantasies, dreams, torments & rants about everyday life into words, from growing up in a big family to living in a small town. Hopefully, the words will come easy to write as I have always been better at writing out what I think opposed to talking (super-shy). For years, I have been able to talk to anyone online in those little chat rooms, to even texting along with the best of them. But when it came to being out in a crowd & having to say more than 2 words... AGONY!! I could never think of the right words that I wanted to spit out of my mouth or barely put a declarative sentence together to fit into any conversation before the topic had been changed and the group had moved onto another discussion. It took me years before I could even sit in public at a restaurant, without the fear of everyone watching me while I sat there with my back to the wall, face downwards at my plate, eating. Knowing that they were all staring at my every move, paranoid that I had a spaghetti noodle stuck to my chin or ketchup stains on my shirt. There is a word for that kind of behavior... but that is all in the past.... BREAKING OUTTA MY SHELL HERE NOW!!
I hope that these entries will be helpful or inspiring to any and all my readers in some way or another. Because I have always believed deep in my heart that everything happens for a reason, every person we come in contact with on a daily basis happens for a reason... You never know who's life you are about to change, just giving them a smile, or by saying 'Hello' to someone, or by throwing your nose up in the air and walking past them as if they never existed. Because every life is important, every thing you do & every word you say is important, ya never know what it could do to someone else & could change their life forever. I hope that I can make the slightest difference & someday maybe even be remembered in the history books for something that I might have said or done. And who knows, it could come from this blog & might even answer my hypothetical question, "How do I get there from here?"
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