30 Day Meme - Days 2 and 3
The rules: ---Day 01 -- Introduce yourself---- Day 02 - Your first love, in great detail Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail Day 04 - What you ate today, in great detail Day 05 - Your definition of love, in great detail Day 06 - Your day, in great detail Day 07 - Your best friend, in great detail Day 08 - A moment, in great detail Day 09 - Your beliefs, in great detail Day 10 - What you wore today, in great detail Day 11 - Your siblings, in great detail Day 12 - What’s in your bag, in great detail Day 13 - This week, in great detail Day 14 - What you wore today, in great detail Day 15 - Your dreams, in great detail Day 16 - Your first kiss, in great detail Day 17 - Your favorite memory, in great detail Day 18 - Your favorite birthday, in great detail Day 19 - Something you regret, in great detail Day 20 - This month, in great detail Day 21 - Another moment, in great detail Day 22 - Something that upsets you, in great detail Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better, in great detail Day 24 - Something that makes you cry, in great detail Day 25 - A first, in great detail Day 26 - Your fears, in great detail Day 27 - Your favorite place, in great detail Day 28 - Something that you miss, in great detail Day 29 - Your aspirations, in great detail Day 30 - One last moment, in great detail
Okay. My first love.
His name was Travis. He was in 8th grade while I was in 7th. We were both in band. He sat right behind me as first chair trumpet, while I was the only bass clarinet. It all started when I did a play (which was supposed to be a musical) for theatre that was basically Rocky Horror but that incorporated all of the scary characters of the early movies - the Mummy, Nosferatu, Renfield, etc. I was Dr. Nasser (who was factotum to the Mummy)who had a ridiculous devotion to the Egyptian God Ra. I had these absurdly long monologues about him... "God of Gods, the great Amun Ra, who can blah blah blah..." Travis saw this play and started making fun of my lines whenever he was around me. That's how the flirting started. I thought he was really cute. Every girl in band wanted him, but he flirted with me. We incorporated him into our little group. That summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, there wasn't a day that I didn't see him. I was totally hooked on him. We just had that kind of chemistry where we'd hum when in each other's presence. One day after watching a movie at my friend's house, we had nothing to do. I, completely jokingly (hand to God it was a joke), said "spin the bottle." That's how I got my first kiss. And OMG he was an amazing kisser. We were COMPLETELY inseparable after that. The attraction was just too strong.
After a little while, that attraction and how much we really clicked both mentally, emotionally, and physically (we'd spend all night and then all day on the phone talking about anything under the sun), scared him. He decided to go after my good friend Kathryn instead. I had NO FUCKING IDEA why, and I still don't. She wasn't pretty. She was smart, but not really funny. She was the anti-me. My best friend and I decided he was scared and fled like a wuss. That defection hurt me so much. After leaving for my new high school I didn't see him ever.
Until his senior year, when he played the lead in Brigadoon. I decided to freak his shit by showing up back stage (that was my stage as I had been a theatre geek for my freshman year). I played it so cool. All I said was, "Hi Travis. Very nice job." Then I turned around and walked away. My best friend said that I did totally freak his shit because he was still thinking I hated his guts over the whole Kathryn thing. I felt triumphant.
The next year, our senior year, my best friend offered her house as the post-theatre party, since the lead girl (who was so slutty) wanted to get drunk. I decided to come along since it was a good chance to hang out with my friends. As I was getting in my car from my house to leave for my friend's house, she called. "Lisa is bringing Travis. Do you still want to come?" I said yeah, that it was no big deal. It turned into a deal, however. Everyone at the party got at least tipsy, and Lisa got totally fucked up drunk. I couldn't drink because I was on antibiotics. Travis just decided not to partake. So we ended up being the only ones awake. We talked for hours. We ended up cuddling, but nothing else. When Lisa woke up, she was SO PISSED because she was hoping she could make the moves on Travis. Her loss. So he and I hooked up for about two weeks. Since we had gone all the way with our previous relationships, we weren't as afraid to move forward physically together. It was AMAZING. We didn't go anywhere near all the way, however, because he had to go to baseball camp before things could progress that far.
In May of the next year, however, he called me again. This one was definitely much more of a booty call. But I sooo didn't care. We did it. It wasn't great, which was disappointing. But he hadn't come... ummm... prepared, so we couldn't really go at it like we wanted to. What finally pissed me off and killed our relationship was a phone call I got two weeks later from him. He met someone at baseball camp. He told her all that we'd done. He wanted me to pray and repent the sins we had done. I told him to fuck off.
I still feel like we could have had a great thing together, but he was just too chicken shit to let it be that great.
My parents, in detail. Wow. Okay.
I guess we'll tackle Dad first, because his life isn't all that interesting.
He was born in January 1947. His father was an engineer on submarines during the war. His mother was a snotty bitch. He is descended from a strong line of Cherokee Indian (something like his Great Grandmother on his father's side was pure Indian). Dad's the first man in his family to be able to grow a beard. His family tree loops into itself - I'm serious about this. His father was adopted by his aunt, so he calls his aunt "Mom" but she's not. Confusing, no? His Mom was a secretary with no education.
His father was verbally abusive. Dad could never do anything well enough. His mother sexually abused him. No lie. (Why do you think Dad then did it to my sister and me?) Naturally, this created his sadistic sociopathic tendencies way early in his life.
Dad made straight A's in school. He attended LSU as his undergrad, getting a degree in psychology. He then went to Southwestern Medical School where he did yet another good job. He creepily did a stint in San Francisco in OB/GYN. He then, in order to keep from being drafted for 'Nam, joined the Medical Corps. He served his two years (all of which on land), and then left to do his residency here in Houston at Baylor. He realized that he wanted to work on eyes (and become an ophthalmologist) because you're still a surgeon, you get awesome tools to play with, and it's damn near impossible to kill someone since almost all procedures are done while the patient's completely awake.
He's been practicing since 1978. He's slept with Lord knows how many of his office staff.
In 2000 he decided to leave and divorce Mom. This is because he met the woman I call the SheBeast. The woman is a Succubus. A gold digger who has landed a big catch. She engineered all of the misery and pain I've gone through with Dad since. Well, not all. But a damn giant chunk. She's the one that finally convinced Dad to cut off all of my monetary support and "let me fly on my own." I think she is hoping that this will kill either Sis or me so they will be completely free of us. I have a complete feeling that she's convinced him to leave us out of his will entirely. (Which I think I will totally contest when the bastard does die.)
Mom
She was born in October 1949. Her parents were awesome. Her mother was that perfect June Cleaver-type. GranMom was very sweet and smart and funny and I loved her very much. Her father was insanely smart. Like OMG smart. He worked for the OSS during WWII, then for NORAD, SAC, and the CIA. We still have no idea how much he knew, but he made trips over to Europe for sure. His cover was his family's brick company. He was a brick man (that just happened to do covert spy stuff on his "business trips"). If you walk around southern Louisiana, some of the bricks will have come from his kiln. It's really amazing. However, I didn't get to meet him, as he died of a brain tumor in 1972. Very cruel ending.
Mom did really well in school and was fairly popular. At college, she really wanted to get her degree in theatre (she's really good at it), but her parents weren't quite so cool with that, so they pushed her to get her BA in Education with a minor in Theatre. After Mom met Dad, she decided to follow him around the country. When he moved to Dallas for med school, she followed. She worked on her nursing degree at TWU there. When he moved to San Francisco, she moved there too. When he realized that he needed to do his 2 years in the Navy Medical Corps, and the only way for her to follow was as his wife, he proposed with "Well, I guess we should get married." He wasn't too enthused, and, according to Mom, he was still flirting and wishy-washing between her and his ex-girlfriend the night before their wedding. But Mom was committed, and didn't want to back out. (This was a pattern that would fuck up the rest of our lives.) They did their time in Norfolk, and then moved to Houston. In Houston, they met my Godfather and Mom met my Godmother while getting her degree in Speech Therapy at U of H.
After a failed attempt to set up an eye practice in Houston, they moved to Austin with me as an infant, and had Sis fairly soon afterward.
Mom decided from the start to stay at home and just be around for us. I think this made things worse. Dad didn't respect her for not working, but Mom felt completely over-protective about us. She was so crazy about stranger danger. She would never let us out of her sight. Or ride our bikes in the street instead of on the broken sidewalk. But, of course, the danger was inside the house, where she didn't think to look.
I used to scream at her to get a divorce, but she felt that she had made a promise before God and she'd stick to it. This was even though there was ample evidence that Dad was cheating on her with other women. I hated how weak Mom was.
Only after the divorce finally happened did Mom take life and do something about it. She started the accelerated Master's Nursing program at UT. She got loans from all of her friends and family to pay for it (because Dad and his evil lawyer didn't leave her or us a damn dime). She also worked part time at a local hospital. She never slept basically, for three years. But, in 2003, she graduated with high honors, a GPA of 3.9, and a member of the Nursing Honors Society. I was so damn proud of her. She worked at that same hospital full time for several years before their practices just wore her down (and one bitchy nurse filed a formal complaint about something that Mom didn't do, but now hangs over Mom's head at the Nursing Examiner's Board). She moved to working on several psych units at the State Hospital in Austin. That's where the indigent crazies go. She actually worked brilliantly there. Until a patient gave her a right hook to her face, cracking her glasses and giving her a black eye. She decided to leave then.
I had already moved to Houston to be with the girlfriend, and Mom thought that since Sis lived here, too, she'd move to Houston for a change and find a new job here. She now works at a psych clinic in town. She has certain things that drive her crazy and piss her off, just like any job (the dumb nurses seem to rankle her the most). But her ability to work with psych patients is amazing. AMAZING.
The only problem with this is that she now has two modes: Mom and Nurse. She can't seem to incorporate the two. That's one of the things we're currently working on.
Okay. My first love.
His name was Travis. He was in 8th grade while I was in 7th. We were both in band. He sat right behind me as first chair trumpet, while I was the only bass clarinet. It all started when I did a play (which was supposed to be a musical) for theatre that was basically Rocky Horror but that incorporated all of the scary characters of the early movies - the Mummy, Nosferatu, Renfield, etc. I was Dr. Nasser (who was factotum to the Mummy)who had a ridiculous devotion to the Egyptian God Ra. I had these absurdly long monologues about him... "God of Gods, the great Amun Ra, who can blah blah blah..." Travis saw this play and started making fun of my lines whenever he was around me. That's how the flirting started. I thought he was really cute. Every girl in band wanted him, but he flirted with me. We incorporated him into our little group. That summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, there wasn't a day that I didn't see him. I was totally hooked on him. We just had that kind of chemistry where we'd hum when in each other's presence. One day after watching a movie at my friend's house, we had nothing to do. I, completely jokingly (hand to God it was a joke), said "spin the bottle." That's how I got my first kiss. And OMG he was an amazing kisser. We were COMPLETELY inseparable after that. The attraction was just too strong.
After a little while, that attraction and how much we really clicked both mentally, emotionally, and physically (we'd spend all night and then all day on the phone talking about anything under the sun), scared him. He decided to go after my good friend Kathryn instead. I had NO FUCKING IDEA why, and I still don't. She wasn't pretty. She was smart, but not really funny. She was the anti-me. My best friend and I decided he was scared and fled like a wuss. That defection hurt me so much. After leaving for my new high school I didn't see him ever.
Until his senior year, when he played the lead in Brigadoon. I decided to freak his shit by showing up back stage (that was my stage as I had been a theatre geek for my freshman year). I played it so cool. All I said was, "Hi Travis. Very nice job." Then I turned around and walked away. My best friend said that I did totally freak his shit because he was still thinking I hated his guts over the whole Kathryn thing. I felt triumphant.
The next year, our senior year, my best friend offered her house as the post-theatre party, since the lead girl (who was so slutty) wanted to get drunk. I decided to come along since it was a good chance to hang out with my friends. As I was getting in my car from my house to leave for my friend's house, she called. "Lisa is bringing Travis. Do you still want to come?" I said yeah, that it was no big deal. It turned into a deal, however. Everyone at the party got at least tipsy, and Lisa got totally fucked up drunk. I couldn't drink because I was on antibiotics. Travis just decided not to partake. So we ended up being the only ones awake. We talked for hours. We ended up cuddling, but nothing else. When Lisa woke up, she was SO PISSED because she was hoping she could make the moves on Travis. Her loss. So he and I hooked up for about two weeks. Since we had gone all the way with our previous relationships, we weren't as afraid to move forward physically together. It was AMAZING. We didn't go anywhere near all the way, however, because he had to go to baseball camp before things could progress that far.
In May of the next year, however, he called me again. This one was definitely much more of a booty call. But I sooo didn't care. We did it. It wasn't great, which was disappointing. But he hadn't come... ummm... prepared, so we couldn't really go at it like we wanted to. What finally pissed me off and killed our relationship was a phone call I got two weeks later from him. He met someone at baseball camp. He told her all that we'd done. He wanted me to pray and repent the sins we had done. I told him to fuck off.
I still feel like we could have had a great thing together, but he was just too chicken shit to let it be that great.
My parents, in detail. Wow. Okay.
I guess we'll tackle Dad first, because his life isn't all that interesting.
He was born in January 1947. His father was an engineer on submarines during the war. His mother was a snotty bitch. He is descended from a strong line of Cherokee Indian (something like his Great Grandmother on his father's side was pure Indian). Dad's the first man in his family to be able to grow a beard. His family tree loops into itself - I'm serious about this. His father was adopted by his aunt, so he calls his aunt "Mom" but she's not. Confusing, no? His Mom was a secretary with no education.
His father was verbally abusive. Dad could never do anything well enough. His mother sexually abused him. No lie. (Why do you think Dad then did it to my sister and me?) Naturally, this created his sadistic sociopathic tendencies way early in his life.
Dad made straight A's in school. He attended LSU as his undergrad, getting a degree in psychology. He then went to Southwestern Medical School where he did yet another good job. He creepily did a stint in San Francisco in OB/GYN. He then, in order to keep from being drafted for 'Nam, joined the Medical Corps. He served his two years (all of which on land), and then left to do his residency here in Houston at Baylor. He realized that he wanted to work on eyes (and become an ophthalmologist) because you're still a surgeon, you get awesome tools to play with, and it's damn near impossible to kill someone since almost all procedures are done while the patient's completely awake.
He's been practicing since 1978. He's slept with Lord knows how many of his office staff.
In 2000 he decided to leave and divorce Mom. This is because he met the woman I call the SheBeast. The woman is a Succubus. A gold digger who has landed a big catch. She engineered all of the misery and pain I've gone through with Dad since. Well, not all. But a damn giant chunk. She's the one that finally convinced Dad to cut off all of my monetary support and "let me fly on my own." I think she is hoping that this will kill either Sis or me so they will be completely free of us. I have a complete feeling that she's convinced him to leave us out of his will entirely. (Which I think I will totally contest when the bastard does die.)
Mom
She was born in October 1949. Her parents were awesome. Her mother was that perfect June Cleaver-type. GranMom was very sweet and smart and funny and I loved her very much. Her father was insanely smart. Like OMG smart. He worked for the OSS during WWII, then for NORAD, SAC, and the CIA. We still have no idea how much he knew, but he made trips over to Europe for sure. His cover was his family's brick company. He was a brick man (that just happened to do covert spy stuff on his "business trips"). If you walk around southern Louisiana, some of the bricks will have come from his kiln. It's really amazing. However, I didn't get to meet him, as he died of a brain tumor in 1972. Very cruel ending.
Mom did really well in school and was fairly popular. At college, she really wanted to get her degree in theatre (she's really good at it), but her parents weren't quite so cool with that, so they pushed her to get her BA in Education with a minor in Theatre. After Mom met Dad, she decided to follow him around the country. When he moved to Dallas for med school, she followed. She worked on her nursing degree at TWU there. When he moved to San Francisco, she moved there too. When he realized that he needed to do his 2 years in the Navy Medical Corps, and the only way for her to follow was as his wife, he proposed with "Well, I guess we should get married." He wasn't too enthused, and, according to Mom, he was still flirting and wishy-washing between her and his ex-girlfriend the night before their wedding. But Mom was committed, and didn't want to back out. (This was a pattern that would fuck up the rest of our lives.) They did their time in Norfolk, and then moved to Houston. In Houston, they met my Godfather and Mom met my Godmother while getting her degree in Speech Therapy at U of H.
After a failed attempt to set up an eye practice in Houston, they moved to Austin with me as an infant, and had Sis fairly soon afterward.
Mom decided from the start to stay at home and just be around for us. I think this made things worse. Dad didn't respect her for not working, but Mom felt completely over-protective about us. She was so crazy about stranger danger. She would never let us out of her sight. Or ride our bikes in the street instead of on the broken sidewalk. But, of course, the danger was inside the house, where she didn't think to look.
I used to scream at her to get a divorce, but she felt that she had made a promise before God and she'd stick to it. This was even though there was ample evidence that Dad was cheating on her with other women. I hated how weak Mom was.
Only after the divorce finally happened did Mom take life and do something about it. She started the accelerated Master's Nursing program at UT. She got loans from all of her friends and family to pay for it (because Dad and his evil lawyer didn't leave her or us a damn dime). She also worked part time at a local hospital. She never slept basically, for three years. But, in 2003, she graduated with high honors, a GPA of 3.9, and a member of the Nursing Honors Society. I was so damn proud of her. She worked at that same hospital full time for several years before their practices just wore her down (and one bitchy nurse filed a formal complaint about something that Mom didn't do, but now hangs over Mom's head at the Nursing Examiner's Board). She moved to working on several psych units at the State Hospital in Austin. That's where the indigent crazies go. She actually worked brilliantly there. Until a patient gave her a right hook to her face, cracking her glasses and giving her a black eye. She decided to leave then.
I had already moved to Houston to be with the girlfriend, and Mom thought that since Sis lived here, too, she'd move to Houston for a change and find a new job here. She now works at a psych clinic in town. She has certain things that drive her crazy and piss her off, just like any job (the dumb nurses seem to rankle her the most). But her ability to work with psych patients is amazing. AMAZING.
The only problem with this is that she now has two modes: Mom and Nurse. She can't seem to incorporate the two. That's one of the things we're currently working on.