Do I Really Look Like The Type To Be Intimidated?

Now folks, I realize there are a lot of wife beating creeps out there. They are unfortunately allowed out of their domestic abodes, and out into my world in public with me. There seems to be an awful lot of them where I live, and I tend to come across them on my beach walks. I am not usually the snotty nor snobby sort that talks about white trash or men that appear to live in the hills with no social contact whatsoever.

Being a former Junior High School student who was picked on by bullies, I am pretty savvy at the outright bully management system. The trick is to be able to tell the bully who will easily piss in his/her pants when confronted from the psychotic deranged jerk that will come to your home and kill you in the middle of the night. What I learned in High School, is the bullies stay away from you when the light weight victim of their meanderings instead waits for her moment to punch them in the face without provocation. Yeah, they didn't tend to come seek me out anymore from Junior High to the time that I graduated from High School.

One of the Junior High bullies was not caught in Junior High. My very first day of High School found the music teacher pulling me off of her as I zeroed in on her. No more problemos after that. Go figure.

In my adult life, I found myself working with cheap labor in the form of ex-jail convicts. I was the controller of a high tech corporation, and I suspect that their CEO had a particular reason besides cheap labor for his sympathies going to ex convicts. Not to mention that the VP did some time in CA for biting his wife!! I didn't realize this when I took the job, of course. The first time I realized this was when the chickenshit CEO had me also take on the Human Resources job to talk to Eddy about a problem. Eddy, as I was later told by a female co-worker, was recently released from jail for duck taping his wife to a chair and beating her. It was at this time that I started to see the downfalls of working for someone else to say the least.

Also, until I found my next job, I realized that I needed to be someone that looked like she would put up quite a good fight in the event of attempted homicide or raping (or both). This is where I learned to get right into the face of someone trying to intimidate me and swear/yell loudly back. As a woman, you will not last long in this kind of environment (not that you will particularly want to either) unless you can hold your own. I got to do the layoffs as well.

I left there as quickly as possible for other jobs that didn't particularly pick from the ex-convict population for their work force:) Still, I found supervisors that tried to intimidate my staff to let an undocumented expense go or embezzlement go. They soon found themselves on the business end of me, and forbidden to speak to my staff ever. At a time where the US workers were being laid off while being forced to train foreign counter parts, it became a very potentially dangerous place to work. I made sure that I always looked like someone not to be messed with, as I also scoped out exits of escape in the large manufacturing building.

So one would think that my idyllic career change would keep out the nasty people. Not always so, because they are allowed out on occasion to our beaches and such. Yesterday's altercation in asking someone to pick up their trash, ended up in threats to me that I better "watch out". His little girl was with him for the love of God. So I said "was that a threat? Do you intend to physically assault me in front of your little girl?" I would have said something more, but I actually did not want to upset the little girl just because her dad is a neanderthal let loose on the unsuspecting public.

Memories and Thoughts

I don't know why this memory popped into my head. I remember when the S Donor was a teacher at St Nicholas school in Worcester. He taught two grades, and classrooms joined together. There was a cool playfort in the classroom.

I used to pretend to get sick at school, so my S Donor would pick me up, and I would get to be in HIS classroom. I think the reason that I liked this, was this was the person that I did not see at home often. I certaintly did not see this person after the third grade, when I started forming my own opinions.

He had fun with his students, and he seemed fun to me there. It's a side of him that I never saw again as I got older, and of course I started getting in trouble for pretending to be sick so I could go to work with him. I am glad I did, as it is one memory that I like of him. I don't remember him teaching though, which is odd as I am sure he was. I think I retained the memory of what I liked most about him at that time.

Dr Phil has had many family shows on, the most recent being on controlling parents. I think that hit home, and then they were talking about school and controlling parents, and this memory popped up. I hadn't remembered or thought about it for the longest time.

Monday Memories

I can't help but peer at the photos and try to see any semblance of happiness on my face after the third grade. Most of these photos were clearly taken by outside parties during Christmas. Others were taken by my husband for me. None were taken by my S Donor so he could "show off" his beloved daughter, trust me.

The one my husband took where I had to lighten it to show S Donor on the other side of the table, disinterested, is a photo of two strangers (I am smiling at my husband who is taking the photo, and that is what I look like when I REALLY smile). It is the real relationship, and not the "put on" during holiday festivities.

I fail to see one real smile on the S Donor's face, one look of love towards me, or kindness for that matter. It was always about him, and whether I was reflecting his whim of the moment rather than any interest in my whatsoever after the third grade. The significance of that is the third grade is when I began having my own thoughts and opinions.

The photo in front of Mountview School, this was a day I was feeling pretty and was celebrating with my best friend. My E Donor took me inside and said how disgusted she was for my grandmother saying she was proud of me. I mean, I didn't think it was any great accomplishment either, but apparently it was inconceivable that I should revel in any love or affection on that day (or any other as time went on). Gosh, I wonder how I got that feeling of worthlessness that I have fought against by being arrogant my whole life, and making myself do things no matter what? In that way, it was a blessing. Especially because later on, I knew the kind of people (kind also being an adjective that describes people that I enjoy) that I would surround myself with and live with.

Regarding the graduation photo (I am holding up my diploma and the monster and s donor are behind me), I am looking off to the side away from the group. I am pretty sure that I am thinking, why are these people behind me in the photo? They had NOTHING to do with this. I have another of me and my husband right before the ceremony. That is who should have been beside me, as he was the one there supporting and encouraging me NOT my family. Sadly, that does include my grandparents as well. They were alright with the monster hitting me and being verbally abusive towards me. They loved me, but in this they were very very wrong, and at that very moment, I was probably not feeling very kindly towards them. I think I thought of my family as interrupting an otherwise lovely day. The thing is that I probably invited them, because that's what "one is supposed to do".

Here are the sum total of all the photos that I could find of me and my father:

Google Maps-My Grandparent's House and Street

Here is my grandparents home (deceased and since sold) and street where I spent a fair amount of time as a child.


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Google Maps-Where My Husband Grew Up

Here is the street (no street view available sorry), where my husband did most of his growing up.


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Google Maps-Attempting to Add The Street View

Trying to add the street view of my old street. That would be the large grey one with the for sale sign LOL, still out in front on it's third year, sponsored by the cracker jack real estate agent OR also known as my monster. Pretty friggin cool, huh? The street view map is a bit fickle, if it does not open up, just click on the title of the post, and you will be brought to google maps location.


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Google Maps-My Old Street

This is where I grew up from age 7 to 17 approximately. Not good memories, except some activities that I used to do alone. We are the second house on the left, counting as if house number one is the one on the corner of Main Street and Hawthorne.



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My Grandmother

Tomorrow is the day that my grandmother died about three or four years ago now. So we are estranged by death now, I guess. Although there have been moments where I have thought she was about.

Right after she died, I drove to her house to sit on the stump that used to be "my" boison berry tree. As I was driving down her street, I swore that I smelled her rose perfume in the car with me. She was suffering, and the afternoon before I had visited her. She was unconscious and had pneumonia. I held her hand, and told her if she needed to go that we would all be okay. That I loved her and I would miss her, but I didn't want her to suffer. The next morning I was called and told that she had died.

In the last weeks when she was conscious, she did not recognize who I was. Sometimes she thought I was just a nice nurse that had come in to put extra blankets on her or call for some help. This didn't upset me, as I knew she had loved me in her life, and this was in no way caused by her. She had been suffering from Alzheimer's, which was the reason that she was moved to the nursing home from her home. Stoves suddenly become potential instruments of tragedy in these cases, especially with someone who used to be such a good cook, and could no longer remember that she shouldn't use the gas stove anymore:(

Grandma saw ALL but one of her brothers die before her. Their were eight brothers and sisters in her family, I think. Plus ones that may have died as infants or in childbirth. Grandma was the oldest, so this was like seeing her kids die before her in many ways, and also best friends.

Her sister in law, Aunt Sophie (I used to call her aunt soapy) died shortly after her robe caught on fire from her gas stove. She lived behind my grandmother, and I used to play in her yard with my second cousins. She was a very nice and loving family.

Watching my poor grandma grow old and then die, I realized how much sorrow comes with that. Grandma outlived her husband, and most of her peers (siblings and friends). It seems unfair somehow. I also know she did enjoy as much of life as she could right up to the end. She was always involved in activities and field trips. However, if she heard we were visiting, she would drop whatever it was she was doing.

I remember and love you Grandma.

How Holidays Have Changed For Me

Childhood: This is when Christmas meant the most to me. Before the age of 9, my great grandmother, Katherine, was always there. My middle name is for her. I see pictures of me sitting on her lap, and I know I was truly happy then. My poor grandmother, I always tried to squirm away from her, but would willingly snuggle in my great grandmother's lap.

My cousins were always there, and this was like a built in play group, of which I belonged. Normally, Kaya and I hung out and ran along the house running our hands along the newly washed tile walls. Or sneaking to the stockings to see what we could get away with seeing in there.

Also, the great aunts, uncles, third and second cousins, and friends of my grandparents were always so much fun. I also remember spending New Year's Eve with my grandparents, and we would play bingo with them their friends and siblings until the wee hours. I was always made to feel special there, which was so different than my home life.

Young Adulthood: My parents were newly divorced. There was tension as far as where I would spend Christmas or Thanksgiving. I would fly, which I hated, and later drive 8 hours to see her, where she was mostly interested in.....her. Which was fine actually, but we or I were never allowed to relax and be ourselves, like you can be with people who truly love YOU. It was like being on stage and expected to put on a master performance. The gifts had to be wrapped just right, there had to be the right amount of perfection in the gifts, et.

Christmas with my family became dodging bullets for the latest story my S Donor or Monster relayed about me. Having fifteen minutes of conversation with my father, and then getting presents that the monster obviously picked out for me. Always a sweater or purse in a conservative style. Or perhaps a hat. I was always appreciative, but I have recently realized that I have hung onto these things that are not my style, and are now unwelcome reminders of them. Plus, I hate "Christmas Santa" sweaters. I mean, how many times a year can you wear those?

I would be incredibly grumpy before going there, and my husband always pointed this out to me. I hated it so much, except for seeing my cousins.

Around my mid 30s to recently: At some point, the celebration moved to the monster's house. It always felt like a stage production there, especially if you could see behind the scenes. She wanted to be "the great good woman" instead of the monster she was. The thing is while she put on the "show" she resented every moment of it. However it needed to look perfect, and like we were all one happy family. I played along with this for a very long time. I still enjoyed seeing my cousins, but got increasingly grumpier.

I longed for the days where this was at my grandmother's house. She, by the way, was not allowed to the final Christmas with us, as she might get upset going back to the rest home. Then she was gone. The monster would have never put such a stipulation on her father.

After Estrangement: It's been two years estranged from the S Donor. Last year, I was not at all in the mood for the holidays. Not because of missing going to the family gathering, but I was exhausted after being busy in my business, and still exploring how I felt about the players and the estrangement. I was busy making peace with how I felt. Also my mother in law and my dog Netpune had both died around Christmas. So a whole bunch of negative feelings around the holiday prevailed, although I know it's not the holiday's fault. My Jewish husband decorated for Christmas, and held with the things we normally do on OUR Christmas (ie cinnamon buns for breakfast, and Chinese food for dinner on Christmas Eve and leftovers on Christmas).


This year, I am a bit more into it. I am planning a holiday party for local businesses. I put up the decorations this year. I am feeling it again a bit more, and thankful for my marriage and life as always.

Liberating Momements Posted to Family Rifts Board

For me, another significantly liberating day, was the day my father posted on my blog "stop being a victim, shit happens." I got to post back, and I know he read it though he had nothing to respond "I have stopped being a victim the day I let you know my boundaries. I am no longer a victim, but I think you are."


I let him know previous to that a continued relationship with me meant 1) we work on our relationship before we talk or discuss the monster 2) I am never likely to have a relationship with the monster, so deal 3) my father and I will not have an "open" communication to be whatever he wants, unless that communication is earned. He had wanted the topics to suddenly open up to everything, and he has never had that place in my life. Few people do, and those people have earned my trust, love, and respect simply by being nice people that I wish to talk things out with. Just because he got my mother pregnant, does not mean he suddenly has the right to pry in my life, as he used to try to. Or in other words 4) your control of me is over not beginning.


He couldn't agree to any of it. That was one liberating moment, when I realized that someone not able to meet me on these simple facts, isn't worth considering as being part of my life. He had 18 years where I "complied" with his wishes, and he abused that.


The final liberating moment when I was able to say, "no, you don't understand, I stopped being the victim when I stopped catering to you." I am free now, you are not. (if you still feel the need to try and contact me) That was the last time he visited my blog, which is not geared for him anyway, but to discuss this with other people (and there are a frightening amount of people experiencing the worst of this) about this. This board and other people have been very eye opening in that what I experienced/am experiencing is not unusual, just not talked about very openly or at all.


That "programing" not to disagree, not to discuss, to be ashamed of not getting along with your parents (or kids, or siblings, or uncles, aunts et all) no matter their behavior, is so ingrained in us, especially if we came from a family of dysfunction. Anyone who sought to help us, was encouraged to be erased from our life.


Until a conversation with my husband, I didn't even think I had talked to him about all this early on. I don't know how early on, but he had said that he was aware of those things for awhile. In fact, now that I think of it, he was around when I moved in with my father and monster, so it would have been kind of hard for him to be unaware . That happened early on in our relationship, it's amazing he didn't run far away. It's amazing that my parents tried to discount him, while he was always encouraging me to work on (and then not when it became apparent it was not working) my relationship with him, and he tried to help (albeit perhaps a bit misguidedly). See his relationship with his parents is and has been so great, it's really hard for him to have imagined (back then) how awful my relationship was with my parents.
Anywho, just some more thoughts that came to me as a result of this thread. I think these liberating moments are times that freed us up from that place we WERE frozen in or announce a step in walking away from that frozen state. A lot of my procrastination, for instance, is (IMHO) a learned response from the stress in my family. I used to go into my closet with a flashlight (and my stuffed animals) to get away from my family. I find I still use this response of freezing up somewhere with something comforting to deal, and keep trying to change this behavior in myself, but backslide frequently.

My Childhood Home is For Sale Again

Ironically, the step monster that made such an issue because I would not allow her to sell my house, has not sold her own house. By the way, her house was on the market before ours was in November of 2005. According to the ad in realtor.com, there have been many improvements to the heating system, roof and such. Hopefully they were not using the same "help" that they did in the past. And cha ching by the way!! Must have been good and happy times while that was going on. The house started at 487,000 when they couldn't sell it, and now it's listed for 364,000.

Hmmm, wish I had used her? HELL NO!!

Monday MeMe

I can't find any I like, and no one ever tags me:(, so here it goes.

1) What is your first memory?

Nightmare in my crib. I thought there was a monster with glowing eyes in my closet.

2) What did you want to be when you grew up?

Ballerina (never had any kind of dancing talent), Chef for a bit (never really could cook well), Veterinarian (no talent for biology), Flautist (actually did go to college for that)

3) As a child, did you ever see yourself married or with a family?

When I was five or so, I used to see myself as Barbie and my groom as Ken. Twenty five seemed about the good age as far as I was concerned (ironically age of my parents at the time). But then in adolscence, I really thought I would never get married or have children. I did end up getting married, but the decision not to have kids stuck. And if I hadn't met Robert, I don't think I would have found someone that I would actually want to get married to. It was never a goal for me.

4) Who was your first best friend?

Danielle in my kindergarten before we moved. Then Kathy, my nextdoor neighbor, when we moved to a house. Then Barbara in junior high, and then Carol in High School. In college Toby and Linda. I was never good at maintaining that kind of friendship except for my husband.

5) Who was your fist kiss?

Ross in kindergarten. Got in trouble because HE kissed me, and had to stand against the wall for the rest of recess. Then Paul in Junior High. Then Brendan in High School. Oops, wait forgetting an afterparty at high school where I kissed a guy that I didn't really like, and that I now forget his name.

There was a girl in kindergarten where we tried the ultra adult french kiss. Then in grade school, (how could I have forgotten Sarah?) there were some experiments during the Hardy Boy period where we would pretend to be one or the other and "pretend" stuff that I didn't entirely understand at the time.

Okay, might have given too much info there, but everything above WAS entirely innocent. It wasn't until college that the real fun began for me.

On Hockey

You know, something occurred to me lately, and it probably signified the beginning of my independence. I had written about how my parents insisted I did figure skating which I loathed. I do realize that parents often have their kids "try out" things for their own good. And many times even good parents forget that their kids might have things that they actually have an interest in, which they also forget to ask their kids about or value their opinion. Parenting is hard, and I realize that. It's why I haven't had kids, I realize the work that goes into it, even if one is a completely sucky parent, it's hard work. Never mind if you are a good parent, then it's an art form that takes up your life 24/7. Oh life, you probably don't have one that doesn't revolve around your kids at that point . Any way I digress.

So young ME wanted to play hockey not figure skating. It never occurred to me to outright revolt and just NOT do figure skating (as it would now). It also didn't occurr to me to tell my dad to pound sand when he insisted that my long hair be cut off (this was during the akward tuff skin period, junior high, not developing and already looking like a young boy) for the Hamel cut. Dorothy Hamel, and if you don't know who that is, you need to leave now.

In high school, I just realized I DID play hockey. Field hockey, okay, but as close as I was going to come. The HS provided the equipment in those days (don't know whether this is still the case after prop 2 and a half started nixing these things). I don't remember asking anyone's permission to do this. I mean I must have gotten it at some point, I just don't remember. I am pretty sure that is one of the times I split off, and started making my own decisions. I loved it, and I loved playing defense. I also wanted to play soccer too, but was a bit afraid of the more popular kids on the soccer team and fitting in. More geeks or overweight girls were on the field hockey team with some popular girls. I remember the football @holes entering the girls locker room, and luckily I was small enough to hide in a locker so they wouldn't see me. So I must have liked it enough to be doing it despite possible molestation or rape from those jerks. That never did happen to anyone, but my JHS experience did not give me the outmost confidence in boys at all.

Plus, field hockey kept me out of my house longer. Anything that kept me away, was a welcome thing.

Not So Nice Feelings of Happiness

I wasn't going to post this, as it's something that I am not proud of, but I have been trying to delve up something for three hours now as I procrastinate from the important items of business that I should be doing. Perhaps pushing this out of my conscious (as it keeps twirling around in there) will get me motivated and off my ever expanding ass.

So my husband was talking to one of our neighbors a few streets over. See Tony (the guy who donated sperm for my creation) has a summer house over there. He just moved to a condo for his full time home, and there has been a question as to whether my childhood home (not a home of good memories for me) was sold or not. I do know that there is another family living there, but the house has not come up on MLS searches (as every house that is sold does) for the sold listing.

Tony does not do well under financial pressure (understatement of the year). Money is key to him, lack of money or financial mobility is something that he just isn't able to deal with gracefully. If my step wasn't such a monster and so deserving of this karma, I would feel bad considering what it looks like my husband found out. Again, I don't feel pride that I grin like a cheshire cat every time I think on this. If I were you reading this, the thought that I was a little bitch would cross my mind.

Any way, they must be renting the house, as it appears the loving couple is carrying all three properties (summer house, orginal house, and 450000 condo) in this raging (not) real estate market we have. Could it be because the step monster (ie cracker jack real estate agent) went way too high in the first place during the downslope of real estate? That by the time they reduced the price, perhaps people wanted actual stairs that went down to the cellar instead of a hole they could fall through (among other improvements and the shitty remodeling job they paid for in the first place)?

Must be a lovely pressure cooker at ye old folks house. I wouldn't be surprised to see headlines like "husband cracks, chops wife into small pieces after taking out 1 mil life insurance policy". Could go the other way too with this evil bitch, but her wealthy father just died, perhaps leaving her a little something that wouldn't be shared otherwise. God, he knows how to pick them, and makes excellent financial decisions. Course he would never listen to me in the past, even knowing how successful I was in my career. Good, I never want to have helped him EVER.

I am going to hell. Sorry, grandma, I know this is your baby boy, and I think he's going to be several floors down from you when it's his time.

Actually, what a wuss I am. I should be revelling in this. I don't play the dysfunctional family sports well.

Odessey of Friendship and Trust Continued

I guess I am having a brain dump before the new year LOL. At the end of last year, I did track these college friends down. Well, the boys could be found, but the girls are a lot more challenging. You see, most of us probably don't remember the last names of our friends. If we do, and they were girls, um, those last names have probably changed. I did manage to issue apologies for any past actions twenty years later. What was interesting was the gay guy friends were like "oh, we were all immature then I didn't think anything of it". I think the straight guy friends thought I was interested in them a whole nother way LOL. Guys are so dumb. My husband is the same way, if a cute girl is nice to him, he thinks she is flirting. I should probably just let him think that instead of breaking out in laughter. Any way, we were in my college years, and while I wasn't breaking any hearts (except maybe for Dave) I was not being any kind of good friend to my guy friends, especially by making them into boyfriends and discarding them.

So there was the introduction of coke. This substance can make you feel invisible and very sure of yourself when you are doing very stupid things. Dave was such a good friend, that even when he knew I was not being committed to him, he would always be there if I needed a ride or something home. He might be completely pissed and not talking to me, but he did not want me to be a danger to myself. I don't know how he stood behind me all through college. He was really my best friend besides Toby. He had an incredibly kind heart. About three weeks after the "Matt incident" Matt's apartment was broken into and his stero and records were all stolen. They had left glass all over the place. Dave came over and said "hey we gotta go help him out clean his place". Now Matt was way pissed at me, and so I was real hesitant to go. David basically told me to suck it up and take the lumps with him. We did, and that's how me and Matt's relationship as friends took root again. It was the beginning of me not being such a selfish immature ass in college, but I still did many stupid things during this time as partying always came first.

Matt lived in the same complex as me and Linda. Robin and Lorrette (I think I called her Lorraine before) also had moved into the place. It was huge, not a straight up and down place with all sorts of court yards or anything. Oh, it was a slum so don't get the wrong impression there, but a way cool slum. So with the windows open we could all correspond with each other when home. This was comforting to have male pressences so near, especially when I got a stalker later on. He would leave us notes calling me the "bad one" and Linda the "good one". They were very creepy (phone messages too). Also Linda got these horrible migraines that sometimes caused her to bang her head against the floor to knock herself out, and I sometimes needed Matt to help me get her to a soft place or do this thing Linda showed us how to do with her neck. We were all very close and having a good time.

I remember later on Matt was like "the only time I hear from you is when you want something". That stung, but I realized he was right. One thing was though, I didn't know how to relate to people, so I always had to find an excuse to stop by. I am not saying a wasn't a selfish little shit then, but there was that other reason. I agreed with Matt, and later on really tried to be there with him as a friend, and to drop by just to say hi, and not try to force conversation or topics. That worked much better, and Matt remained someone very much in my life through college. I disappointed him a lot too. I see that I started to write about this on the previous posting, but got side tracked by explaining the substance thing. Here is why though.

Matt was a manager at the all night gas station near us. He was soon dating Joan who was also a manager of that gas station. Matt got me a job there, and I worked the night shift at first. I found coke and cigarrettes to be really good tools during this time to stay up and make the night go a bit faster. It was probably very lucky for me that I was a thoughtless jerk at that time, it probably saved me from being raped and killed that night. See the night before this "customer" (who looked like Charles Manson) wanted me to let him into my booth. He threatened to smash it when I told him to get lost with his car. It was pretty frightening. I probably called Matt at like 1am and he came over. The next night at about 10 or 11 pm some frat boys I new had stopped to get some gas. They were having a party that night and begging me to go. So, course, I thoughtlessly went, locked the door, but did not set the alarm as I didn't want to tip anyone off that I left. When I returned at 4 am the next morning, I discovered the booth had been completely smashed, and everything was gone including the register!!! Uh, oh. So I called Matt and told him what happened. He was more concerned about me, and came up with a "story" for me regarding vomiting, going home, and coming back. Here I had put his head on the line, and he is concerned about me keeping my job. He was also the first one that said it was probably that guy staking out the place. The policeman thought so too, and said it was good thing I wasn't there. Regardless, I still feel shitty for letting Matt down.

My friends were way better to me than I was to them. My college friends were the closest friends that I have ever had even to this day. It was still many years before I realized how bad I had dropped the friendship ball in college. Like I said, I provided many other opportunities for disappointment. College is not where I learned distrust of people as friends. I realized later on that those friends are not so easily found in the real world.

The corporate world is really what drove this home. After coming home, meeting Robert, getting a job that I loved at Paul Revere, I put myself through business school. I left Paul Revere, even though I loved it, because they wouldn't transfer me from customer service to accounting which is what I was going to school for. When I got a job in public accounting, I started working full time during the day, and going to school full time at night. You study a lot about ethics in college, and I agree with being ethical. However, what they manage not to tell you, is that if you are in a position of any kind of executive management, you are going to become privvy to an awful truth and need to make a choice. Most corporations are in the business of being unethical, dishonest, and lying to improve the bottom line and improve (especially executive) commissions and bonuses. If you are working there doing your "job", and you for instance find out someone is embezzling. That someone is a Vice President and his close friend the President finds this info embarrassing. What then happens is that your life is made hell, and the embezzeller does leave the company. Yeah, he leaves with a letter of recomendation and two years severance pay. So you gotta decide, do you look out for the best interests or your own interests. I could never manage to look out for my own interests, which made me popular with my employees and others who were honest workers. I never came close to fired as I was incredibly good at what I did, and no one else knew how or wanted to know how I did what I did. I was loyal to my corporation, and put in incredibly long hours to make the impossible happen. I got very jaded from the multitude of experiences I discovered however. I did not need to have the experiences that my husband had to know that just about no one was really your friend at work. I should point out that I have a few people that I still keep in touch with.

The end. That's my husband and I when we were youngsters, and most likely while we were "dating". The things I did wrong before, really taught me to be more careful with people I cared about. That was the most important lesson, and our marriage has been enjoying it for 20 years now.

Trust Issues and Making Friends

I am ahead in my other blogs, so I have time to post here. Funny how I was so frustrated at not being able to post here yesterday, as certain projects were not done LOL.

While it would seem that my parents would be responsible for trust issues from childhood, I don't think my trust issues of inability to make close friends comes from there. I am not sure it's even my inability to make friends rather than it's hard to make friends when you are forty, and I did not maintain those old friendships from grammar, junior high, and high school.

The younger school thing seems more routed in how children can do thoughtless things. When I was in grammar school, I was fairly popular. I remember that I was always the champion for the underdog then. There was this girl, Ellen. She brought a pocket book to school every day. She also had a funny short haircut that was not exactly flattering on her. Kids used to tease her mercilessly in the playground, and steal her pocket book. She would end up in tears at the end of recess.

I am not sure why, but I started to come to her defense and chase the other children away. She wasn't really my friend, and I didn't hang out with her beyond that. I was actually pretty shy, so other children had to come up to me to be friends. I don't think Ellen ever talked to me or anything, so it probably just didn't occur to me to extend myself at all (a situation that still occurs in my non business life).

It may have been that before I was going to school, I was teased by a group of boys waiting outside of my baby sitter's house for my mother. They took my barbie doll and ran away with it. Maybe that struck a chord with me for this poor girl. My parents would never help me out with stuff like that, they always told me to take care of it myself. Something that really didn't start to kick in until Junior High.

I was also very good friends with my neighbor Kathy (one year younger) and her sister Mary who lived next door to me. We could talk through the windows to each other, we played in the woods building forts in the stone wall. We actually got in big trouble taking a stone wall apart that was on the side of my house, and had to put it back together. I don't remember what happened, but as soon as I was in Junior High we were mortal enemies. It's a real shame because we did all sorts of cool things together. There was an abandoned tornado cellar in the field behind our house that was our secret fort, walks along the forbidden railroad tracks, and monster sledding on the way steep hill at the end of the field. We would go back there with our notebooks, and make stories, lists or whatever. We used to make up dances to the BGs, Diana Ross and Andy Gibb in their "den room". They were the first to have one of those basic video games as well. I used to go over there and play them all the time. Then there was the pop up camper and play house. At our other neighbor's house on the other side, all sorts of games were played, and we used to jump off the roof of their play house and swing on the tire swing. Alas something happened (probably me by the way) and we were never friendly again.

Junior High a couple of things happened. First, I made best friends with a really unpopular girl called Barbara. She was chubby and smelled like tuna fish sandwiches, but I had a lot of fun with her. She also hit puberty way early by developing and menstruating first (I think). I've never really been about appearances. My popular grade school friends told me her or them. It became her. I was best friends with Sarah too, and that hurt much, but I wouldn't shelve Barbara over an ultimatum. So a large group of friends went bye bye. I sat at their table once with Barbara, and everyone was just silent, so the next day we just started sitting by ourselves.

I went through a really gawky streak in junior high, though if I look at my junior high graduation photo, I was a really cute kid. Also all the clothes my parents got me were not conventionally cool. It's funny to look at pictures with them in now. I had tuff skin jeans from Sears in every color. I never liked them, but my parents would not buy me the more expensive Levis. I never did begrudge them for this, though my mother complains bitterly because later on in life during what I thought was a nice conversation, I told her how I was teased for the flood different colored tuff skins only in explaining what a really difficult time junior high was. She went off on a tangent about this later on when explaining our estrangement. Good lord. A classic case of a parent of this narcissistic nature using something against you totally out of context.

I was little too in addition to being gawky, oddly dressed, and a band geek with undesirable friends. (or friend as it turned out) Oh, did I mention I was completely flat chested too!!! So I became a target of all the girl and boy bullies in school. Sandra, Nancy and Cheryl took quite a bit of pleasure finding me in the girls locker room and beating me up. Or at least pushing me around et. Finally, I got sick of it and Cheryl came after me, only to find I had locked onto her head and fought back. She laughed then, but never bothered or came near me after that. I spotted Sandra in the hallway, she didn't do anything but I walked up to her and punched her in the face. She never bothered me again, and was too "tough" to report me to the principal. She actually grew to respect me and we had a cautious friendship later on, though I would never hang out with her outside school (didn't trust her that much). Nancy was dealt with later on in High School.

A really bad incident happened where I was attacked on the bus by three boys. They wanted to see if I had anything developing. The bus driver did nothing about it as I yelled and cried for help and tried to keep them off me. When I got home, it was obvious I was crying, but I didn't bother to tell anyone, as I had been expected "to take care of things in the past" with bullies myself. To my mother's credit, she did drag it out of me, and promptly reported it to the principal. The boys were all banned from the bus for the rest of the school year. They were not allowed in school for two weeks (suspended). When they came back, they all apologized to me (two sincerely I think). I overheard two of them talking about how angry and disappointed their parents were, although their parents never reached out or apologized. They never bothered me again, and in fact the two again apologized in high school. Later on when I was successful and went out to dinner with my parents, one of these two was our waiter LOL. Talk about karma coming back to bite you in the butt(not that I have anything against waiters, they are hard working, and I held down a waitress dog for approximately two days before realizing I would hurt someone). However, I would never want to wait on someone that I had done that to or that I had a grudge against in some way. It was pretty funny though.

In Junior High I did get in huge trouble. My best friend and I used to get those Mad magazines. All sorts of cool things used to come with the magazine, and there was this record that had different messages or something, and said something like "I am coming to take you away haha hoho". Any way, we made a bunch of prank calls from Barbara's house to my neighbour Kathy. Apparently she knew who it was (and this was before *69), and she became scared and told her parents. Her parents called my parents, and I denied it (and my parents believed me and reamed her parents). Then they called Barbara's parents, and she confessed. Then Barbara's parents called my parents, and I got in huge trouble. Grounded big time, and the worst was I needed to go apologize to not only Kathy but her parents the next day. Then we walked to the bus together. I did feel very bad, and having to face her parents was the worst as they had always been so nice to me.

When you have that stigma about you in Junior High, it pretty much goes with you to High School no matter what. What really sucked about Junior High was that we had two Junior High Schools. So another whole group of grammar school friends I didn't see again until High School. Many of them wouldn't have been friends with the more shallow group that had followed me, and would have been great support during those years. I had started to get those curves. Course, I was not interested in boys that came to High School with me no matter what, and some did approach where I promptly told them to take a long walk off a tall cliff. Self esteem with the boys, and getting involved with the knuckle draggers has never been my problem. In fact, I do credit this early experience with boys with my ability to weed out the riff raff, and have boyfriends that I still think of as good people later on. I had very odd groups of isolated friends in High School. I don't remember why, but I basically broke up with Barbara. Could be the incident that I described above with Kathy. Any way, always been ashamed of myself that I didn't keep both relationships alive (Kathy and Barbara).

One thing junior high did for me was because I didn't worry about what people thought about me, I was unafraid to do whatever I wanted. I joined the field hockey team and had a great time. I became very involved in band, and would do crazy things like initiate whipped cream fights or just be very silly publicly (some called me immature, but I had a good time without drinking, having sex, or doing drugs) which reminds me.... I spotted the other Junior High bully, Nancy in the band room one day. I was determined not to be picked on physically any more, and before she even saw me I was on top of her. The band director, Mr Grimo, had to pull me off of her, and that was the first time that we met. I don't remember getting in trouble for that at all though.

(Good lord this is getting long and time consuming, but I won't feel like continuing it tomorrow so I will just keep going here)

So in High School, I had a very eclectic group of friends. Basically anyone who would talk to me and who was nice was my friend. There was Janet who came from a much worse family situation than me, and had the worse misfortune to be just as unpopular in High School and very developed. I was also friends with her older sister, and they were both involved with drugs. There was Darlene, very pretty girl but disturbed and involved in drugs. Tony, who was a girl, had gender issues before I really understood what those were. She was very funny, but her stories of going to the mall to confuse and kiss girls never made sense to me....until I understood more later. I understand that she did have a gender change later on. There was a large group of born again Christian friends (and remember I have always been agnostic). Julie and Stephanie are the two I remember the most. I always went to their "events" as social functions, and no one ever tried to pressure me to do anything other than hang out. Later on, I totally blew off a wedding invitation that Julie sent me. She got married in CA to a minister, and she was still very involved with all of that. She was a very nice girl, and I totally regret not keeping in touch with her. Stephanie (or now I think it was Lisa and her best friend was Stephanie) has seen me out several times after High School, and always recognizes me and seems to remember me fondly. There was a boy, David, that we hung out with who battled cancer during high school until he lost the fight in my junior year.

I did manage to have Levis during High School by paying for them myself. Or maybe my parents might have made a Christmas present of one pair. My dad had found my first job for me working in a deserted cemetery late at night. (across from the High School by the way where jocks might wander through) I've always wondered if my dad wanted me to be raped and killed or something. Plus I was so scrawny,I was hardly capable of digging a grave. I was game and tried on more than one occasion, but I am sure my employer thought the grave might be done by natural causes first. My next job,my mother used her "antiquing" connections, and I had a very cool job as a runner for an auction house in Shrewsbury. I was strong enough to help hold up most pieces of furniture. I even got to log in the bidding sometimes. I certainly felt a lot more safe. (although at the grave yard I did enjoy scaring my friends my jumping out of graves when they walked through) The job I found myself, close to home, was in the kitchen of a rest home. Have a mentioned I always sucked in the kitchen. Probably not as much as the cook who used to smoke while cooking, and flick her ashes into whatever she was cooking. Socializing and making the patients happy was more my skill, but my lack of skill in the kitchen (being the main job) is what eventually got me fired. Final job in High School and when I came home from college was at Webster Square Cinema. I could ride my bike to and from there. I started working early mornings as the janitor which was surprisingly cool. Then they also wanted to use me at the candy counter and ticket booth. It was easily the most fun job I had before going into the adult grown up jobs category. First of all my new best friend, Carol, worked there with me. We were surrounded by young people, and when everyone was in the cinema and it was quiet we had the best time.

Carol was one grade below me. I honestly don't remember how we made the connection and were friends. I imagine that it must have been that we were both in band. This was before funding was cut for arts or sports in schools, and so the program was well funded and involved. That and we both used to do those jobs during play productions that people that can't make the audition to be in the play do. Everything seemed to be a musical, and while I could play a decent flute, I could not manage to sing to save my life. My husband asked me to belt out a song once just to see how bad it was. He then requested that I never do it again (kidding of course, but seriously I don't come close to singing on key).

Any way, it was basically Carol and I joined at the hip from sophomore to senior year for me. We were involved in all sorts of escapades together. Her house was equipped with cable, so we often had sleep overs where we would watch MTV until late in the night on the weekends. We snuck out to Anna Maria college a lot, and tried to pretend we were college girls and climb into boys windows. I forgot why they were there, but we met two high school boys, that we would later on see again in music camp there. At a school dance, a few Worcester Academy boys had crashed our dance and became our boyfriends. Brendan (the tongue) is still remembered for being an incredible kisser. Carol was way more sexually daring, and liked to call me as she was measuring Matt's, well you know, which I found very disturbing. At a band trip to Toronto, I cut off my long hair with her (shocking everyone) into way cool eighties styles. My hair was down past my bum before we did this on a whim together. We were also on trips to Philadelphia together. At music camp, we used to spy on the soccer team boys. God they were adorable. we had a swimming pool on site, and there was a viewing floor that had all glass towards it. When the boys would see us up there, their trunks always seemed to fall off or something, which was well appreciated by us. Carol, although younger, was more wild than me. She was also way smarter than me, as was her sister (Princeton, Yale, Oxford, need I say more----oh full scholarships by the way) Their father was brilliant and a known professor and author. He was also very weird, and I am not really sure about what him and his wife were all about. They had separate rooms, and didn't seem to hang out together all that much. So we had many adventures together. What eventually broke us up were two things. When we both got into college, our interests were very different, and I had made new friends. Also, she was very into showing pictures of her boyfriends private parts, and I was way into the fact that I wanted nothing to do with that. I would say I am far from a prude, but there is a line where you cross over into too much information. You know what I mean? I do have pictures from my graduation where we are hugging each other with our other friend, Wesley. Looking at that picture, I am sure we all thought we would be friend forever. I did see her later after a bunch of failed trips that we didn't enjoy. I was with my then boyfriend, Robert (ie now husband) and our friend Rich. We saw her at a popular hang out called the firehouse. Ironically, she had become best friends with my Junior High best friend, Barbara. I wonder if it was some kind of support group. I was admittedly a bit full of myself in college having finally fallen into a cool in group, and not a great friend to anyone. So Carol goes, "hey we should all go out together". So I said (in a hugely buzzed state) what I meant to keep in my head out loud!!! I said "yeah maybe.....Not!!!" That was the last time we saw each other, and I was mortified that I said that out loud.

So college....I wish there was a way I could let everyone know, who has been unpopular during previous years, that it normally does get better from this point on. Fresh slate, way more diversity, everyone is starting off anew. My very first day at college, I met two friends Grace and Toby. Grace and my friendship was short lived, but me and Toby remained good friends during my whole three semesters until the end. I had started in college going for music. Performance music to be specific, but I was determined to be able to play with the Boston Symphony or nothing at all. To be honest, a couple years off of finding myself were called for. However, I got pressured. See my parents got divorced in my senior year of high school. I was basically notified of this the day before my mother moved into her new apartment, and I was thrilled. It was a long time coming. I thought even if I have to stay with one, they gotta do better apart than they do together. Any way, the divorce said that my father was only responsible for my college for two years, so his first priority was to minimize it (the college that is). So when I said I needed a break, he was like "up to bad, the divorce says I only need to support your college for two years now or never".

Being so young, needing to get out of that house, but not knowing how to do that on my own, I acquiesced to what I thought my dad's wishes were. In hindsight, I really feel he was just trying to get out of it. In truth, I paid for my college. I didn't even know what he was doing, and he put the loans in my name. He had me deposit the excess in my bank account (for those of you with college kids, not a real good idea). I didn't even know it, and I already had my first loan. I'm not sure I was even told what I was signing. Later on, my mother somehow found out, and tried to influence me to sue my father (mostly over her bitterness that he didn't want to be friends with her after the divorce, because she was having an affair two years prior). I decided not to do it, as not only was it not worth it, but I didn't even try in college. My freedom was well worth the price of that loan, even if it was paid off finally when I was 35. My father is a great one for reneging on his word especially for material things. For instance, both my dad and mom agreed on the divorce settlement that I was to get my bed (an antique). My dad decided he wanted it for himself, so he kept it then sold it for himself. He never intended to keep that word. It would have in fact never occurred to the man I know to do so. He's done this so many times, and I forgave him so many times for things (other than the college) thatI never should have done so. That is why the final insult hurt so much. Any way, this novel is not to discuss that now, just let you know where my head was in college.

All during my pre-college school life, my parents were incredibly controlling. I was often in their site at any out of school time. I think that is why I didn't get involved in alchohol and drugs, and really was ignorant about boys (except the Hite reports my mom would force on me). There I was with my own dorm room all of a sudden. While I wasn't all that far away from home, I was not in easy reach to both of my parents. My mom had moved to PA by this point. Plus it was a clean slate as far as previous knowledge of me. No stigma followed me from Junior High to High School. In fact some other students went to U Lowell, and I was now the cool one. I had zero problem attracting boys. My college advisor (hot college boy named Bob) invited me to my first alcholic party the first day of classes. Where I met more hot boys, and some girlfriends (ie Stephanie) that I later became very close with. The girls left walking for the dorm I(or did the bus pick us up from the North to the south side?), the boys were ALL passed out with loftier goals forgotten.

So this was a whole different game for me, and I am not going to pretend it did great things for my personality. I did get very full of myself. However, it did provide me with humility and confidence later on. U Lowell did one thing right, which was to bring a group of students in their first year through all the same classes. This did a lot to expand my friend base, but as well distracted me completely from the task at hand. Although, for a performance student, performing in front of people has always been a problem for me. Now that I am older and wiser, I can handle it. Corporate world helped that in a big way. The school didn't actually nuture problem areas as much as bring students down who were not excelling. So my new interest combined with a disgust of the professors did not help. I recognized at this early age, that since I was not paying the tuition (and sadly not talking to my dad about this) that they were not interested in me or my development. A problem I found when I was aware that I was putting myself through college later on in business school, because they still thought only parents were paying tuition. Regardless, tuition paying parents were still the biggest demographic to be catered to, certaintly not the students.

Later on, one of my friends, Linda, and I decided to get our own apartment. My father flipped out, and sent me this letter apologizing but saying "you should know how your dad is". He was probably right, but the way he went about trying to "convince" me left me cold, and I was doing it if I had to pay for it myself (was anyway but didn't know it) or not. The dorms that is, were covered by the loan. Dad did in fact pay for the apartment, but I didn't understand that the difference was I had already paid for the dorm. I also got a job at a gas station doing the all night shift.

Hmm, my job and my first college boyfriend, Matt. I have no pictures of college, but I remember that Matt was very cute, but perhaps not in your conventional male model cute way. He was not chubby, as became my preferance later on. He was fit,with curly hair, and he played an awesome classical guitar, although I don't know that he knewI had overheard him practicing. Like all the music majors that I tracked down, Matt has not used his music in his adult life. I thought he was really good, and there was nothing that got me hotter than excellent guitar playing. We flirted at first, and then I think he thought he scored when I agreed to date him. You know the thing was that Matt was a couple years older than me, and ready for a relationship. I had never really had the freedom to explore the relationship thing at all. So I was immature and incredibly cocky. So I appreciated Matt at first solely for the fact that he found me attractive, and we had some really great sleepovers that moved me into some new territory. Ironically, that didn't really hold when I basically forced him to initiate me in my first time. Due probably to the "sexual freedom" and girls should do everything that boys do and the free love mentality that my mom had preached to me, I was way up for the task. My virginity, to me was a hinderance. You can imagine that it might have been a bit uncomfortable for Matt. First of all, by the time it happened, we were kind of broken up. Second of all, that's kind of a lot of pressure to put on someone you don't have a more intimate relationship than a crush fullfilled. Needless to say, it wasn't good but it didn't ruin it for me. I had expected that, and treated it with that much respect. Interestingly enough, me and Matt did try to rekindle our romance during the year and a half, but it became kind of like kissing my brother despite the earlier chemistry. It is one of three friendships that I regret taking into that territory. I regret the hurt that I caused him before that incident that I will explain shortly.

In hindsight, I would have still liked to experiment, but would have put both my and my partners feelings first rather than treat it so cavelerly. I really didn't realize the difference though until I fell in love with my husband. I also had many more lessons to learn in college, and regrets to look back on later. One thing that I have never regretted about my earlier attitude though, is that I have never been curious about what it would be like to be completely wild. Been there, done that. No big deal. The really big deal is being completely in love and intimate with someone. If I had waited for that, it would have been Robert, and then would I have been curious? I don't know. I am for sexual freedom by the way. If one guy and two girls want to live together and call themselves a family, great. I am all for it. Same sex relationships, I have never seen the problem. As long as someone is not being molested or raped or hurt against their will (and I am including statutory rape here), that's really their business. It's not the way I choose to manage my relationship, but that's completely my choice. It's the way I naturally feel. If something else works better for another, why not? Assuming the no hurting thing of course, which means responsible sex as well. Plus all those gymnastics you go through when you are young (on the sink, in the car, on the balcony) are great for novelty. Let's face it though,not all that comfortable.

Probably falling into the category of too much info now LOL. Want to explain a bit where my head (or lack of understanding) was at the time. I was popular with both girls and boys (though not in the same way). I had freedom that I never imagined before. Sororities wanted me. People wanted to be my friend. I could pick and choose, but I was still friends with all alike. It wasn't like in High School, where the quality of your friends was judged by the "cool crowd". College was a diverse and interesting melting pot. Unlike my high school where there was one Jewish family, one Latin family, and one African American family. I hung out with some Iranian friends on the weekends, and talked indepth about the poster of (I can't remember who) on thier wall. I marvelled at the fact that their college car was a lambourgini (spelling I know). No one cared that I wore mostly Goodwill clothes (another place I worked and took some perks). In fact it made me cool and artistic. Plus in my shape then, I could have shown up in a large pillow case. This was something I never experienced before, and it was so exciting.

The first apartment was the party center. It was right accross from the college. I remember the first day of our second semester cracking a beer in the am (hate hate beer now) and then walked accross to my first class in my fuzzy blue pajamas. I was a goddess. During this period of time, I never gained any serious weight. Course the fact that I couldn't drive and had to bike and walk most everywhere (including the grocery store five miles away) certaintly helped. Well that and the coke we all started taking.

Did I mention my first boyfriend, Matt, was a coke dealer. He was a coke dealer on a very small scale. Still that will explain my access to this despite lack of funding. Despite the hurtful things I did to Matt, we were still very close all through college, except for maybe a few weeks (after the hurtful thing). I might as well get into that now. It's not something that I am even close to proud of. Matt's best friend was Dave. I remember that me and Matt were getting sort of bored of each other, and there were games being played (mostly by me). I refused to wear glasses, and a misunderstanding happened one day when Matt waved to me and I didn't acknowledge him. I remember the day, and I couldn't see who it was so I didn't wave. Matt was pissed and the beginning of the end was starting. Matt never cheated on me, and I am quite sure he would have broken up appropriately unlike myself.

Any way, I made a date to go to a party that he knew about with Chris, another flute player. I wasn't actually interested in Chris, and later on managed to hurt his feelings quite a bit. That's because I spotted Dave, who was Matt's best friend and a good friend of mine, and ended up spending most of my time at the party with him. Something sparked between us, and I ended up spending the night at his apartment although we did not do the deed. We thought it was our little secret, not realizing all of our many friends had witnessed this. So that morning Matt heard about it. It was probably Chris that was the first to tell him. Talk about Karma, huh?

David showed up to breakfast at Matt's the next morning. I wasn't there but Dave told me all about it. I amso glad they remained friends from the beginning. So Matt casually says something like "heard there was a good party the other night". David is clueless but wanting to deflect the topic. Matt's like "I heard Robin went with a date the other night. Did you see her there?" Dave is like, yeah I think she went with Chris. Then Matt goes, I heard she left with someone else though. The cat was out of the bag, and we became a couple (me and Dave) shortly thereafter. While this is one of the best pre-marriage relationships I have had, I still wish we had just remained friends. We would probably still be in contact today. When you have a close passionate relationship with someone, it normally ends up that you can't be friends. Especially when you have a young and immature girlfriend who is going to be so thoughtless about your feelings over and over again. We were on and off all through college. David was also a sweety pie. He got the first CD player that I ever saw, and on New Year's eve we had a picnic on his apartment floor and enjoyed a little Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Like Matt, he would save up and bring me out to dinner and cook me an awesome steak (no boyfriend I have ever had has expected that I might cook or clean LOL).

I don't really think about it now or try to count how many times I hurt David. We had a very passionate and close relationship. Another thing we shared though, was a temper. Although David was nothing like my dad, I think it brought up an unfortunate comparison and control issues that were not really there. I, however, had not learned to control my temper, and to have someone equally as volatile as me was not good. I recognized that. David had a lot of cause to be frustrated with me. The thing was, I was not mature enough to handle it. I also had the misconception that he would want lots of kids. So in the end, I never wanted to make any commitment to David no matter how hot and heavy we were running. I am sure this was very confusing for him. I want to get into the intro to coke first though. Be assured, I have never done it since my time at Lowell. I mean I would have had to 1) pay for it and 2) trust the source. I trusted Matt, I would never trust a stranger with that.

The reason for getting into this, is I don't want anyone to ever underestimate how this can effect relationships. The liquor is bad enough. I was horribly shy, and let me tell you that was the first step to any shyness being a problem. We used to get together at my friends Adam, Libby and Peter's apartment. Robin and Lorraine, (Libby's girlfriend) their next door neighbors would be over. Also Linda's old high school friends (and our neighbors) Chris (Scott's brother & not flute Chris), Scott (Chris's brother), and their roommate, Keith, would come over. We played poker or quarters many times at these gatherings. David would either by our drinks for that night, or we would go half and half for the white russian mixings or the Captain and Coca Cola would be provided (usually by Matt and his roommate John). This night, we were playing poker and the boys were enjoying some coke. Linda, surprising enough (normally very straight), was the first to ask for a try. The boys were like "no way, you don't need this". I think Matt later gave in, probably because he was pissed and me and thought "you aren't my problem to watch out for anymore". David was against it, but I wore him down somehow. I think he thought we would try it,hate it,and that would be it. Unlike pot though, I loved coke. Talk about getting rid of your shyness, and made you feel a lot more energetic as well. Linda stuck with it while I was there at college too. Turns out, it was a pretty good weight loss mechanism (like I needed that). It's pretty dangerous as well both physically and as far as good judgement happens. I probably won't go into all of that. This posting is way long enough as it is. Rest assured, there were more bad decisions than I am about to post about.

Now it's six pm, and I think I will have to continue the final chapters tomorrow.