My About.Me Page

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November 30, 2010, Tuesday

I woke up to the sound of my alarm, yet I’ve been up and down all morning. I’m really hungry and dying of thirst. It’s almost noon, so of course he’s already out of bed. Juda rolls over begging me to rub her belly and Weezer just keeps snoring under the bed sheets. I’m pressed for time, so I get up but the stress of all of this makes me weak. My legs hurt from wearing heels yesterday. It will take a while to get used to heels for my internship since I have been only wearing flats since that last knee surgery.

My morning is routine, straight to the bathroom to pee, weigh myself and record it, got new contacts out today, wash my face, get dress, then brush teeth. I walk out and realize he’s standing at his computer in underwear and flip-flops. The hilarity has diminished as I’m used to this and I’m really tired. He puts on his robe to go smoke and I go to the bathroom to turn on my straightner. He goes out to smoke, and like always, leaves the dogs inside so I let them downstairs and then he has to let them out. I pack my extremely heavy book bag for the day and grab my clothes for work. I go finish up my hair and splash on some cover-up to try and hide this stress induced massacre on my face.

I yell “I Love You” and wait a second, he responds, but doesn’t come kiss me-I’m used to it, so I leave. While I make my way down the stairs, in heels that I can’t get used to, I feel saddened because I forgot my rings and it’s raining, but warmer than normal.

I go to my politics class and set up a group meeting afterwards. I have 10 minutes to get to my next class and end up driving half-way to work before I can gather my thoughts to turn around to get to class. I’m not late; I sit down and get on the computer, ready to endure the next hour and fifteen minutes of my professor droning on about history.

After class I have to fifteen minutes to get to work. My job is a non-medical caregiver, and my only client right now is a 90+ year old couple. I like my job, but this is not what I want to do-that’s why I had to turn in my 2 weeks’ notice yesterday. I want to see my family before I leave for my internship in January. So, I’m working till 11pm then going home.

Baby X

Sociology 250

16 April 2010

Summary

(Provide a detailed summary of the article in you our words with no direct quotes.)

Lois Gould examined a fascinating issue of how parents expect or require their children to engage in gender-role-appropriate behavior. So Gould devised and published a fanatical, illusory story-scenario.

So just like a book the story begins and Baby X was born. The scientist invested 23 billion dollars and 72 cents to The Baby X Experiment and wrote a Manuel that was 85759 pages long. The scientist was through thousands of volunteers to find the perfect parents to raise Baby X and finally the Joneses were discovered. The most important thing that the Joneses had to remember was to never tell anyone the sex of the child or Baby X could find out and to Experiment would be ruined.

So the Joneses took Baby X home and instantly hit troubles. Friends and relatives became angry and embarrassed as all the Joneses would say is that the baby was a X. none of the friends and family would buy gifts for Baby X because they did not know what sex it was so the Joneses had to get everything. At first it was a challenge but, they just gave lots of boy and girl toys, edited its storybooks, and found gender neutral clothes.

So eventually, the first day of school comes around and seemed to be the most difficult thus far and eventually the Parent’s association forced X to see a psychiatrist. Needless to say X came out with flying colors and the psychiatrist came out crying from joy.

Problems

(Describe two problems related to gender role stereotypes that the Joneses encountered in raising Baby X because it was an X rather than a boy or girl.)

            Two of many problems that the Joneses experienced due to gender role stereotypes was buying toys, clothes, books and such because it was all gender specific or bias. Secondly, and the biggest issues, were school rules such as bathrooms, lining up and games. Some were easy to fix others were not. With the bathrooms, X was allowed to use the principal’s bathroom because all it said on the door was BATHROOM. When lining up the children would use alphabetical order, but as for the games it took a while before child broke away from gender role stereotypes and excepted X but that is when parents became upset.

Beliefs

(Identify two beliefs about boys and two beliefs about girls that come from the traditional sex role expectations or assumptions about gender differences that the story explores.)

Each sex has their own traditional sex role expectations or assumptions, for boys there was there was the fact that boys are supposed to mown the lawn and take out the trash and then it seemed that basketball and relay races were only for boys. For girls they were expected to wear dress and just like a good little house wife would.

Attitudes

(Give an example of a positive attitude and a negative attitude that X encountered from the other kids in the class.)

Most of the children had negative attitudes towards the children but eventually, after learning and observing, they all had positive attitudes. One negative attitude was when the children did not want to do opposite sex events with X, such as when it ask the boys to do basket weaving or for the girls to play some basketball. Though eventually the positive attitude is when the children did not mind X participating in boy and girl events and embraced the idea.

Effect

(Do you think this experiment had a positive or negative effect on X? Give reasons for your answer.)

            I believe this experiment had a very positive effect, in that community there were some gender biases broken, X finally found its place in school and the Joneses were asked to become part of the Parent’s Association. This will make X stronger as a person and hopefully raise its children in the same gender neutral way.

Changing

(Eventually the world will learn whether X is a boy or a girl. Do you think that X will remain the same gender-neutral person he/she was as a child or do you think he/she will exhibit more gender roles specific behavior? Why?

            Eventually X will have to pick a gender to live by because there are too many rules that cannot be broken. Such as, some schools do not allow boys to wearing earrings, skirts, dresses, makeup or hair dye because they believe it is a distraction, yet girls can wear pants and have boy style haircuts. Also, many schools frown on same sex relations and if X looked like a certain sex and then had relations with someone of that sex X could risk be expelled.

            Moreover there are other things such as car insurance were a boys have higher rates than girls based upon statistics or say X looked like a boy (masculine features) and wears clothes that are sex neutral or even feminine and goes to an interview, some people could be offended or angered and ask X to just leave. Finally some things are just gender specific such as girls wear bras-boys wear cups and girls shave their legs while boys shave their face.

Personal Analysis of a Major Loss:

Personal Analysis of a Major Loss:

The Day I Saw My Mother Cry

3 December 2009

Description of a Loss

            The day was Saturday, September 26, 1998; nine year old Lacey was home with her stepfather while her mother was at work. Lacey was out back playing in the sandbox when she heard the phone ring. Getting up from the sandbox, she walked through the garage and came to the door to the house. Her stepfather, Terry, left the door ajar and Lacey over heard him talking to her best friend Kelly. Terry told Kelly that she could not come over to play because there had been a death in the family.

            Terry hung up the phone and came around the corner to see Lacey in the garage within earshot. Being only nine years old she was confused, but as his eyes met hers, one could see and feel an immense amount of pain. They both stood there for a minute, and then he came outside and sat on the bench and dropped his face into his hands. Lacey kept standing in the garage for a minute then walked over to Terry and laid her small hand on his. With just the simple act of unknowing compassion, terry began to sob; he grabbed her little hand and told her that he was sorry.

            Lacey was more confused than ever, but held his hand while he cried then ask who had died. Terry stopped mid sob, looked up at her, teary eyed and red faced, and put his face back into his hands. Lacey had never seen Terry cry and was still very confused and worried. She waited a second then asked again, “who died?” Terry stopped crying then rested his chin on his clasped hands and told her, “I am so sorry, but I cannot tell you until your mom gets home, she is on her way.”

            Lacey stood there for a little bit, and then sat by Terry. Every now and then Lacey would ask if it was this relative or that one, but Terry just sat in silence. Finally, her mother got home and what felt like hours, was less than thirty minutes. Her mother got out of the car and went to Terry. He grabbed his wife’s hands, told Lacey to stay on the bench till they got back, meaning her mother did not know yet, then led her mother into the house.

            Again time seemed to drag on and Lacey made her way to the garage door to the house, but stood there staring at the knob. When she could wait no longer she slowly opened the door and began to sneak in. Just as she got one foot in the door her mother came around the corner, being supported by Terry. At that moment it felt like time stopped, Lacey had never seen her mom cry before and began to get scared. Her mother picked her up and took her back to the bench and sat down. Her mother, still sobbing grabbed her daughters little hand and just stared at her. There was no sound in the world-no movement, just a mother and her child sharing a moment.

Then, in a small voice, Lacey firmly asked who had died. Her mother looked up, squeezed that little hand tightly, and said, “Your Dad.” The moments that took place next where beyond description There was a mother who lost her first love and the father of her child, who now had to explain to her nine year old how, why, and when her child’s daddy died.

Lacey’s little world felt like it had just shattered and had so many questions. She just cried and cried until she could breathe no more, then fell into disbelief. Lacey began to call her mother a liar, then said that he cannot be dead because she just saw him last night and then demanded to see him. Lacey’s mother tried to explain that there would be a funeral and that she could say goodbye to daddy then. Lacey then explained to her mother that she wanted to see her daddy and was not waiting until some funeral.

Lacey’s mother then agreed and said that they would go see daddy, but they had to go to grandma’s first. She agreed and they went, but what happened next could only be described as sad. The whole family had met at grandma’s house, everyone was crying, wanting to hug Lacey and her mother and tell them how sorry they were, but Lacey became angry. She told people to not touch, not to talk to her, and demanded to see her Daddy. Her mother gave in and took Lacey to the funeral home.

They got to the funeral home and her mother and a man met and whispered for a moment. Eventually he hugged her mother then knelt down and asked if Lacey wanted to see her dad. With a quick nod this man led Lacey to the back while her mother stayed behind and fear began to wash over her. They made it to a room and this man opened the door to reveal a body lying on the embalming table. She walked in alone and the man was talking, but all Lacey could hear was the buzzing of the lights and dripping of fluids from the embalming table.

She walked up and laid her hand on her dad’s arm and what made it harder to believe that he was gone was that he was still warm to the touch. Lacey stood there quiet and the man stopped talking after realizing that she was not listening.  She asked the man if she could hold her dad’s hand and with his approval, Lacey held her dad’s hand one last time.

The Reactions to the Loss

Lacey’s life and the way that it is today, is all because of her father’s death and the choices she thereafter made. The effect his death had on her life was very negative, but she worked her way through it all to a positive outcome.  Right after his death, Lacey’s school made her see a counselor and because she would not speak with the counselors, conclusions were made. Ideas such as Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, denial, secluding herself from the world, fantasies, and they even accused the family of child abuse. The school went as far as sending Child Service out to her house to see if her living conditions were okay. Least to say, her mother was not happy and Child Services found nothing wrong. After that Lacey and her family moved to the country and switched schools. Her mother thought that it would be a healthier choice to start over.

As stated by Corr, Nabe, & Corr in Death and Dying, Life and Living page 214, “grief can be experienced and expressed in numerous ways such as physical sensations, such as hollowness in the stomach, a lump in the throat, tightness in the chest, aching arm, oversensitivity to noise, shortness of breath, lack of energy, muscle weakness, dry mouth and loss of coordination.” When Lacey’s mother finally told her that it was her dad, her hero, her protector, who had died, she experienced most-if not all-of these sensations and also at other times.

Also stated by the authors on page 214, “feelings such as sadness, anger, guilt and self-reproach, anxiety, loneliness, fatigue, helplessness, shock, yearning, emancipation, relief, numbness, or a sense of depersonalization” are feeling that Lacey has been dealing with since the death of her father. Ever since his death she had a hard time dealing with the sadness, anger, guilt, and most of all loneliness. Starting when Lacey’s was 13 she had the first of two knee surgeries and became addicted to the pain killers. She found relief and numbness from the pain killers and tried to abuse them so that she would not have to face the reality of the world around. It did not take Lacey long to realize that the pills were making her life hard and she got off of them, but soon after began to cut herself. Again, this was a sense of relief; she was not trying to kill herself, but the small cuts would release chemicals from the brain that just helped her relax. It took about two years to break herself from that habit.

Lacey is healthy now, and finds healthy ways, such as a simple hot shower to relax.  Sometimes she will just lie in bed and listen to music for hours on end, just so she can relax and control her thoughts. Lacey’s hardest fight is against herself, to control her emotions and feelings. You hear a song or smell a scent that reminds you of the one you have loss and it feels like you are losing them all over again. There are times that Lacey will just sit in the shower and cry to herself and she won’t know why she is crying, but when she is finally done everything feels right again.

The Current Status

My life is great and I have made it this way. I could have succumbed to past habits or not listened to the wisdom that my friends, family, and teachers provided, but I did not. I did not want my past to ever hold me back and kept me from my goals. The life I have is exactly what I set out for. After my dad’s death I became empowered to be more than my parents were and set out life goals and strict rules to live by such as:

ü  Never give in to peer pressure or do drugs.

ü  Graduate High School (I did with a 3.1 GPA)

ü  Get my own place after high school and never move back in with my mom (so far so good).

ü  Go to and graduated from college with a four year degree (about to finish year three).

ü  Not start a family until after college.

These guidelines I set for myself where most likely the best thing I ever did, because if ever a situation arose, I would weigh the outcome against my standards and if one of these standards were being compromised I felt that I was letting myself, my family and my future down.

      I still miss my dad a lot and graduation from high school was really tough because at the end of the ceremony the class lined up and everyone’s family came by and congratulated us. I thought I was fine then I kept watching everyone’s mother and father walk up and hug their children and that is when it hit me. My mom and stepfather came through and hugged me and I could barely keep myself together-I wanted him there so bad, I wanted to make him proud and I could not.

I have learned many things from the death of my father and the most important being that suicide is the worst way to fix your problems. It is a permanent solution for a temporary problem. Suicide hurts everyone around you; it leaves so many unanswered questions, and gives no one time to prepare themselves. So I have grown into a fine young lady, who won’t see her dad clapping in the audience when she receives her diploma, who won’t have her dad there to walk her down the aisle, and will have one last grandpa to hold her children. These are facts that I have come to cope and live with, but that does not make them any easier.

Every day I wish he was still alive, that someone had got him help or the gun would not fire, but I believe that everything happens for a reason therefore there is an explanation why he died that day, I just have not figured it out yet.

FOR reacton paper

Extra Credit: Trip Reaction Paper

10 December 2009

Cadaver Lab

            Our class took a field trip to Findlay university to see cadavers, learn about donating your body to science, and experiencing some simply anatomy. What I expected beforehand was to see one or two bodies. I thought they would be a little more dissected, maybe a little more age variation, and never thought we would be feeling their organs. I thought that we would look at the bodies, explain more of what her students study from the cadavers, and maybe feel the outsides of the bodies-not take them apart. It was interesting that she had a few brains, so I was glad I asked.

Our guide was very polite and informative. I learned a lot; most important to me was that you have to be cremated after your body is done being studied. I really do not want to be cremated after death, but I guess it would not matter since I would be dead.  I do feel a bit saddened for the families that are waiting for the studies to finish, so that they can get closure. I might start rethinking my decision on donating my body to UCLA because I do not want my family waiting for an unknown amount of time to get closure, I do not want to be cremated, and after watching the way the class acted around the dead I do not want to be left on the table.

The doctor made a stern point that this field trip was not show and tell, also that we need to respect their bodies. I believe this is why she had the faces initially covered. Some students were making fun of how their hands, feet, and breasts look. Jokes were being made and students were uncovering the faces when no one was looking. We should have shown more respect and some students stood over the bodies discussing where they were going out to eat afterwards. There was just no respect, in my opinion, those cadavers were still people-real people who died and had families.

I honestly enjoyed the experience, was glad that I went, and will most likely never get another opportunity to hold a human heart, see a human brain, see inside of a heart, of feel what lungs and tumors feel like. At a point when I thought that we were leaving, I felt bad that someone’s parents or grandparents were lying on the table exposed with their organs all over. I am the one who put their parts back into two of the people and if I could I would have covered them up, too. I know that the doctor would have done it after we left, but I just think that those individuals deserved more respect-even if they were dead.

This was not the first time that I have seen a dead body, either on the embalming table or in a casket, though the experience is something that I will relish. I wanted to see more parts of the people, some organs from the abdomen, and I wish the doctor had introduced the class to the people. Those cadavers are people and I wish we could have got their names along with their age and cause of death. Maybe by putting names to the bodies my classmates would have shown more respect by seeing them as deceased people instead of just cadavers.

            In conclusion, I believe the field trip was a great success and is now helping me rethink my options for after death. I do not think that I want to donate my body to science anymore because in life I do not want to die by being burned and neither after life. Also, I never realized that my family will have to deal with the fact that after the funeral my body would still be out there, for who knows how long, and may not to get closure until my body is returned. That issue is a little hard for me to get over and I can just imagine my family getting over my death and then they would receive my remains and all those feeling would come back to them.

Life

Have you ever sat and watched the sun set

Watch the colors or the rainbow blend and mix

A swirl of color that hypnotizes like a drug

The clouds slowly fading away

For every minute that dwindles by

The sun sinks lower on the land

Light slowly being pulled away

Behind me the dark creeps in

Engulfing everything it touches

I step forward and try to find the light

The father I walk the more I lose

I give up and turn

Watch the dark as it creeps closer and closer

As my heart begins to race, fear filling me

I close my eyes and wait for the dark

And let tears of fear

Run down my face

The Fog

She was but a whisper into the wind

Hollow and shrill, moving deep into the soul

Echoed into the ears

And rattled the chest

Silhouette flowing gracefully, catching on but the breeze

Hair to skin to lips to eyes, all as clear as fog

Teasingly moving, drawing one closer

Through the yard, through the woods

Down the path in leading to the river

His blank stare searched for her eyes

Unaware of the icy water,

Lapping at the waist

She turns and reaches, her hand to his

She gets just close enough, he gets a chill

Is it from the water—now up to his chest?

Or the ghostly mist that connected their hands?

Now more intrigued, engulfed by desire, he takes a step.

With this step to be his last the icy waters swirl

A lasting breath filled with water, choking life away

Finally the waters pulled him away on rolling with the current

We see them now hand in hand, strolling the water’s edge

His widow watches from the balcony

Him and his mistress drifting into the fog

Sweet Dreams

When night falls

And sleep should come

When all should be in bed

At least till dawn

I lay awake and watch you sleep

Lying there

Wrapped in sheets

You softly breathe

Not knowing I’m there

I lightly run my fingers across your face

You grin slightly

As if having a great dream

I kiss you goodnight

And tuck you in

The hall light is on

Just for you

I close the door

But leave it open just enough

As a nightlight

I love you dear

Sweet dreams

Runaway Bride

I stand alone in this unfaithful place,

To which I feel my choice an error,

If I was to leave without a trace,

Would loved ones be about a terror?

The urges fade out and in,

I push a bay this horrid dream,

Would this be just a whim?

I feel less than they all beam.

Am I the only one?

Or am I but one of many?

They, who are so dear, can compare to none.

This all feels so uncanny. 

This light in life that I am craving,

Not even a thousand suns could fulfill.

They stand there still unwavering,

Am I too strong of will?

One is I being overzealous,

As others stand close feeling jealous.

Fright

FRIGHT

I look all around, blood everywhere, on the walls, on the

floors . . .  on my hands. The knife is on the on the floor covered with

blood. There is a man on the floor clawing at my legs.

I can’t help him I’m frozen with fright. I watch him as his

eyes glass over. Then, they close-his heart stops. The light from

the moon shines in the window upon his face, which is now

pale and motionless.

I start to cry-the fright is over. The blood on my hands I now

notice  is not his blood, but mine. For there is a stab wound

within my stomach from the knife. It happened so fast, I never

noticed.

I fall to my knees.

Now as the clock strikes three, I fall to the floor and all goes

black.

I get this floating sensation and all I see is red. At first, I think

It’s blood. I’m in a pool of blood! . . . But I was wrong. It’s fire-I’m

on fire!

A fiery creature comes insight. It looks like a demon with large

hands and feet with long, bloody claws. Its bare body sprouts

wings. It has fangs and screams out.

Its fiery, red, eyes stare me down and then it lashes out at me.

I scream out and close my eyes then open them again . . . now I’m

in my room, in my bed. It was all a dream . . .

a nightmare.

Beauty

True beauty I have found

Non-arguable by any man or women

Lasting through the ages, always overlooked

Always the briefest of encounters of the body

Her skin glowing and healthy

Hair flowing

Untamed

Body and face plumped to perfection

Slender neck rolling into a deep curving back

Rounded bottom to full legs to swollen feet

Back to the top, from toes to head

Face and skin covered with the lightest of peach fuzz

Down the chest, breasts full and large

To her belly full with life

Rumbles not of hunger, beating not of her own

A short experience that is missed when it is gone

And enjoyed for the rest of life

A pregnant woman is beauty in the past, present, and future

Beautiful

Every person on earth is one of a kind

No two people are exactly alike

Just as no two snowflakes are alike

Each person has their own voice,

Own personality, own shape and size

Everybody is as unique as a snowflake

Many different attributes

All pulled together to form the

Smallest, most beautiful pieces of

Art that Mother Nature could give

Skin or ice it’s all the same

All beautiful in their own way

A Drive

I feel the warmth of the sun touching my skin

As I stare out the car window

Softly breathing

Watching the window fog over

Blurring my vision of the outside world

Down the road we go for awhile

Hitting bumps, taking turns

It starts to sprinkle

Ever so lightly

Water running like tears

The longer we drive

The more I tire

It seems forever to get there

How bad I want out

Maybe I could take a nap

And when I wake we would be there

But just as I begin to sleep

Falling into a peaceful dream

The car slows to a stop

As I wake

Now not wanting to leave

I look outside my window

And see a wondrous sight

I see we have arrived

In need of a voice

I do not know where to start...my life is in such a mess right now that I really do not ever know how to explain. I go to school full-time for Homeland Security and Terrorism and work full-time as an elderly caregiver, soany free time that I may have is dedicated to homework or time with my fiance.

I completly consumed by this life and it is my last semester before I leave to Washington D.C. for my intership-they actually want me to apply towards the White House..all of this just seems like some sort of dream. I would not call my life itself a dream-because its definatly not-but I am so close to achieveing this goal I have worked towards for years.

So because of all this and my reports AND my senior project I do not have a true single friend. Now honestly this does not bother me, but I began to realize that I am inside my own head too much. So the most healthy thing I could think of was to get all these thoughts out before I went crazy.

It all started with my memior but I am still young so really I couldn't write enough to publish and kinda of lost my steam with it. What I really what and need is some back-and-forth, then realized I could find that with a blog. I want to share everything that is in my head and about me. I have not found anybody like me around here which in turn makes friends nearly impossible.

I really just want to share my thoughts and feelings and little ideas an jut plain randomness with somebody of than may fiance-who I feel, judge or examines everything that I say.

I just want to be heard and share and communicate. I don't know...

Living Memior

An Everyday LifeHave you ever tried to remember something and it seems that you forgot that memory? Well, that happens to me all the time. I am always writing down notes, dates, and birthdays. I never remember anything and then it hit me. So much has happened in my life and I am only 21-what if I forget something. I should write it all down, but who cares about my life? Who would read this and feel what I feel? I will not know until it happens I guess.
I figured that the best way to start this is with the first memories I have. Oddly enough, they all deal with my dad and those are really the memories I try to hang on to. It is the little snapshots of life that really hold no meaning but still hold a place in time. I can remember my bed sheets at both my parent’s places and the cardboard dresser set at my dad’s, and then I always had this boat with a siren that I played with in the tub at dads but Barbie’s at moms. I remember all the places that my dad lived at, but usually just one of the rooms stays in my mind. I remember this children’s laptop that I had for the longest time and this plastic guitar that I jammed out with in the living room. Then I have this one memory of being spanked with a paddle in the living room. It is the only time I can remember my dad disciplining me and I have no idea what I did.
I do not seem to be able to recall any birthdays or Christmases, but I do remember one Valentine’s Day. We went to a small airport and I got to sit in the front of the plane with the pilot and fly it myself. I can still remember looking back at his face…he love me so much. Then there were the times we would go asparagus hunting then go to this place for ice cream. This place was called Twist-n-Shout, so one time dad pulled up to the window and twisted back in his seat. As soon as the woman began to talk, he spun around and screamed. The woman just looked terrified and then recognized him. She asked what was wrong with him and he replied, “Well the sign said twist and shout, so that’s what I did.” We all laughed so hard. He was such a nerd.
All these memories and anything that involves my Dad happened before I was nine years old, so far so good with holding onto my memories. I bet you are starting to feel this getting dark, but more than likely, I will remember more memories as I write. I think it is time to talk about what I remember most and I will tell it straight threw as I remember.
It was summer and I was nine now. I was out back in the sandbox because I loved playing in it. My sandbox was a giant green turtle and the sand was always so white. I decided to get up, walked through the back door to the garage, and stopped at the door going in the house. It was slightly opened and I peeked in and saw my stepdad. He was on the phone with my best friend and told her she could not come over because there had been a death in the family. At that point, in my mind I knew what death was but never knew anyone who died.
My stepdad hung up the phone and came into view and he had this look on his face that made you hurt inside for him, but then he saw me and the pain that came over his face I had never saw before and would never see again until his baby brother died many years later. He started to walk across the kitchen and was about fifteen feet away, but I feel like he could not get to me fast enough.
He stepped out the door then looked away as he went and sat on the bench. I stood there and watched him sob then bury his face in his hands. He was so sad that I thought his parents had died but he said no-I probably guessed ten people then all he could say is, “your mom is on her way home”. I sat beside him and drilled him with questions and I feel bad for that now, but I was young and he did not want to be the one to tell me. I do not think he could have if he tried.
My mom pulled in the driveway and stepped out of her truck. They stood apart staring at each other for a second or two. His face held so much pain and hers was fear and confusion. He led her into the house and they told me to stay outside for a few minutes because they knew my ear would have been glued to their bedroom door. Hence, I stood there waiting so impatiently and it seemed like hours. Finally, I heard the door open and they walked into the kitchen. Mom now had that same face that my stepdad had and I was starting to get scared.
She tried to turn away but he pulled her forward and time slowed down while I stood there confused. My mom grabbed my hand and took me to the bench and my stepdad walked away. She held my hands and looked into my eyes and this is where pieces of my memory begin to fade, most likely from the trauma of the experience, but she told me my dad was dead and I believed she told me at that time that he had committed suicide.
All I remember is screaming the loudest I have ever screamed. I tried to run, but she just held me tight and cried. I cried for the longest time and was choking for each breath. Then I told her he would never kill himself and she was a liar and he’s not dead and then demanded to see him.
The next thing I can remember is running into the arms of my Aunt’s boyfriend; then being in my grandma’s house. I remember seeing my Uncle who said, “hey Peaches,” but it was so sad. Him and my dad were the only ones to called me that and the name died with my dad…everyone was huddled around this piece of paper. Taking turns reading it and crying. I never got to see that letter. It was his suicide letter and the police confiscated it.
We went upstairs which was where my dad’s room was. He lived with grandma for a while and I had actually seen him the night before. I think I was supposed to stay with him, but mom decided not to let me. Maybe if she just let me stay he would be alive today, but he was sitting at the table eating mashed potatoes and his hands were shaking so bad that the food fell off his spoon. I found out later that my dad had depression problems and was put on Lithium, but he did not like it and got off of it cold turkey.
We went up to his room, his wallet was open to my picture, and his cologne was close by. It was the old fashion Old Spice bottle and there were models of cars, planes and boats everywhere.
I have many memories in my grandma’s house; he was there for a while. There was this little bench that I loved to sit on and I would play with Lego’s and a sit’n’spin and this big stuffed banana. Dad and I would play with his army men, in the evening we would lay on the floor and watch Law and Order because that was grandma’s favorite show, but we would play a game where we would spell out messages, like I love you, on each other’s backs. It is one of my favorite memories.
Eventually we were at the funeral home and we were in the main room. My mom was talking with the director and I just kept looking around for dad. Then the man knelt down and said, “Are you ready?” I said yes because I assumed it was to see dad. We walked towards the back and then I saw the door. Time slowed down nearly to a stop and when we got to the door, the man stopped and looked back at my mom, so I opened the door myself.
It swung open so slowly and there was a bright light. My eyes adjusted and everything was white except for the metal table that dad was on. I took a deep breath and it was so quiet, I never looked back. All I could hear was the buzzing of the fluorescence light and dripping coming from the table. I walked up and grabbed his arm-I wanted him to wake up and this all be a nightmare, but he did not move. He laid there and I could see the tiny bullet hole under his ear. His body was still warm and I moved his fingers around mine, then told him, “You didn’t say goodbye…” It had finally hit me. My dad, my best friend, the strongest man in the world, my hero, was gone and no one could bring him back.
 It is a lot to take in and it still puts a lump in my throat as a write this. I was fine at the funeral and many stated that I was taking this all very well. I remember when they were closing up the casket I was saying good-bye and they closed the lid, but I begged for him to please open it again. I just could not say goodbye, so I just told him how much I loved him and would miss him and then the casket closed.
 Eventually I went back to school and while I was gone my guidance counselor told the whole class that my dad died and to be nice to me. I wish she never opened her mouth. She constantly had me in her office telling me I had to talk to her, but I refused-I hated her. She kept reporting that I was doing poorly and not adjusting to my new life. My mom got tired of that and told her that I just did not like her and was just fine.
 I stopped seeing the counselor, I was in class, and the teacher asked us to write about our summer vacation…well you can guess what I wrote about and I guess I shared some vivid details that scared the teacher. She called a meeting and insisted I go back to counseling. My mom told her where to stick that idea.
 Next thing you know child services were visiting the house. They called my sister by her nickname, said our beagle was vicious, and said there were reports of bruises on me. My mom was appalled and knew the accusation had come from the school. Child Services never found anything and by the end of  the year my mom decided to move.
 They found property outside of town and started building a house, but the company delayed things and our house was already bought. We ended up living with my mom’s parents and her sister’s family lived there already. There were twelve people living in that house and we hated it. Those six months felt like two years, but it was worth it when we moved into our brand new home.
 Life was pretty normal after that and I had switched schools. I was always an odd artsy one, so school was still tough but I made it. The day I graduated, I felt so sad because my dad was not there to see what I have accomplished. Then I realized he would not be there for graduation from college, or walk me down the aisle at my wedding and never meet my children. After so many years, there was still a large hole in my life and I knew it would never heal. 
 I really enjoyed my senior summer that I started with our senior cruise to the Virgin Islands. I was the best thing I ever did, I had so much fun and did things I had never done before, but just like my life, there is always a dark side to a story. There were technically two bad things-or maybe even three- that happened. First, my best friend was with a guy on the boat and ignoring us and I had just had it, so I confronted her, which led to her eventually ending our relationship. Then another guy jumped ship so we had to search for him and we had to skip visiting one of the islands. Overall I loved the trip and I am a strong believer of karma, so on the last island my redheaded friend fell asleep on the beach. Half her face and whole body was sun burnt and I could not help but laugh.
 I left home for college in a nearby town and to this day, I am very dependent on my mom. Not to say that she pays for everything because I paid for everything I wanted and she took care of my needs. The only time in my life I did not have a job was that first year of college, but I do not think it was even a whole year that I did not work.
I had come home from my first years of and college and I wanted a two-week break then I told Mom I would go get a job.  That year was so rough to adjust and I ended up going through two roommates and getting three ulcers. I think the fact that the economy was so bad from the war she did not think I could find a job, so she harped on me every day and I just wanted a break. Then the fighting began and there was this HUGE fight and I believe I yelled at my stepdad, “You’re not my dad.” It hurt him more than anything, but he reacted with anger and things went horrible.
I pack my things and left the next day. I got a phone call late afternoon from my Mom asking where I was and I refused to tell her. She got very angry then even angrier when I told her that I had moved out and I am not coming home. I actually drove forty-five minutes away to my aunt’s house; she was like my second mom. She starting screaming at me that I was throwing my life away assuming for some reason that I was not returning to school in the fall. Then she said she was cancelling my health and truck insurance and reporting my truck as stolen since the title was in my stepdad’s name. I hated the way she was acting-it was just so childish. My stepdad eventually intervene and let me do what I wanted.
Mom was going through “empty nest syndrome” and we did not talk for months. I eventually came back to live with my boyfriend for a few weeks. I felt too awkward living in his house with his brothers and parents, so I found my first place with a friend.
Now there was no way for me to know that the next four months would be so horrible, but as soon as we moved in there were a couple instances of sewage backup. Then I starting paying for everything and my roommate and I got into a huge fight then she moved out the next day. I will not elaborate because that is her life, but she realized later that she had severe PMDD and attempted suicide about a year later. I had to learn from that experience and just move on.
I ended up moving closer to school and had this great Victorian house, but my landlord would not replace the ancient furnace, so I moved out. My new boyfriend moved out of his place the same time so we moved in together at this new place. It was a lot smaller, but it was cheaper and he would be able to afford it on his own went I left for my internship.
 This past summer we went to St. Croix to visit his dad, who he had not seen in six years. It was actually quite a hassle because I had to have a knee surgery a month before we wanted to leave. Actually, it was my third knee surgery in seven years, so we did not think we could go. We had about two weeks until we were supposed to have gone and I told him we could go.
 The tickets ended up being more expensive so I could not charge both to my credit card, so we bought one with mine then went to buy the other one on my Aunt’s card. The site we were going through would only give us a ticket for another airline, so we had to fly separate, which really upset us, but there was only a thirty-minute difference.
 We enjoyed the whole week and my birthday fell on the Saturday we were there, so he bought me an engagement ring, which made the trip better for me. I was kind of having a hard time being the third wheel and seeing my boyfriend reminisce and get to know his dad again. It was something I could never have and hurt a lot.
Anyway, before the trip, my boyfriend was an alcoholic and he knew it and we would fight over it all the time. The whole trip he was drinking rum and was dehydrated by the last night. He and his dad got into it, but they ended up talking it out and I went to bed. In the morning, I was getting things packed and realized he was stumbling and slurring his words and by the time I figured out what was going on it was too late.
We got into a HUGE fight and I called him a dirty word mixed in with other words, but I used to call my ex this word and he knew that. He came busting in the room screaming and pushed me-I was really scared. I love him to death, but he is a hardened former marine and when he gets mad its best to stay clear.
We hardly talked for hours then we were about to separate to get on our separate planes and noticed all the planes were delaying and we knew a tropical depression was coming. His flight delayed an hour, but mine was on time and I had to go. I got on my plane and was texting him how much better my plane was because each person had their own interactive screen to play games or watch movies.
Before I sent the message, I got one from him saying how his flight was cancelled and he would have to stay overnight. What made this even worse was that I had everything with me. He had no money, no cigarettes, no clothes and his phone was dying. After a few hours, he was having withdraws from alcohol. I told him there was nothing I could do and it was all karma for that morning.
He eventually made it home the next day and it took a few days before he started feeling better. When we got home, we had a long talk and I told him he had five days to quit drinking or I was leaving him. The weeks that followed were very hard; I would catch him lying and hiding beer cans and even caught him adding water to the liquor bottles.
Less than two months later we got everything under control and he would tell me when he was craving a beer and we would find ways to get his mind off of it and eventually he was even able to just socially drink on occasion with me.
 So somehow, I just summed up my whole life in less than thirty-five hundred words. Maybe my memories were not that great after all...then again I have only lived a quarter of my life and maybe I am just not ready to reveal everything.
I cried today and actually, I have been crying a lot lately. I began writing this to express my memories, then realized each passing day becomes a memory. To be honest, I am not sure what there is to gain from this. I have no words of wisdom or advice or “moral to the story”, my life pretty much just turned out this way.  These past few months have been really hard. I am a senior in college majoring in Homeland Security and Terrorism and I think I want to be a data analyst, but I am just not sure of anything anymore. I just finish midterms and I am doing really well, so all I have to do is finish this semester. Next semester I will be interning in Washington DC, while taking a class and doing all the other things I will have to do, but right now, I am scared to death. I do not know what is going to happen next and my whole life I knew what I would be doing the next day or week even next few years. In junior high, my goal was to graduate, in high school I knew I wanted to go to college, so now I am here and in two and half months from now I have to leave. I have become so dependent on my mom and fiancé that I am scared to leave and be without them. I will be alone.
I just an average country type girl whole had barely a friend in high school. I have never fit in and really had no friends. Right now, if I needed a friend to maybe talk to I would only have two choices-mom or fiancé. I do not have any friends and most of the time I do not mind, but there are those times and things that you do not want to tell your mother and sometimes not even your fiancé; and then for me that thought just has to stay in my head.
I was never the type to date someone and decide two weeks later I did not like them and move to the next person. I liked to have long relationships and I liked being with that one person, so I tended to be clingy. I ended up have an almost four-year relationship that began on my sixteenth birthday. It was horrible, I knew for a long time that he was no good for me. There would be a problem, like cannot hold a job, and I would try to help him and “fix” him. Sometime you can really help someone, but they have to want to help themselves and he did not. We would separate then get back together then do it all over again and I think I could not say goodbye because I was too scared of being alone.
Our relationship was on a downhill mudslide that was not going to be repaired, so honestly I may have started looking in other directions, though I never cheated on him in any way. There was this one guy who had tried to be nice and we worked at the same place. He had saw me outside of work and said hello from a distance and I ignored him, so he yelled again and I responded by telling him I was a snob outside of work. I think this is so funny now and could not remember saying that until months later.
Somehow, this guy did not take offense to my rudeness-it actually made him more interested in me. Eventually he became my supervisor and there was a lot of one-on-one coaching since we did work in telemarketing and slowly began to know each other. As I said before, I do not have any friends, so when my boyfriend dumped me, I kind of told the people on my team. He overheard and decided that he wanted to be with me and was going to do everything possible. How he got me I still do not know; he was everything that would have made me run, but for some unknown reason I stuck through it. He was a drinker, smoker, no college education, used to be addicted to drugs and had only been clean for two years, alcoholic, had poor family ties and had a broken tooth, which I am all about perfect teeth, yet he won my heart. As I said before he quit drinking and eventually wants to go back to school, still drug free, has a better relationship with his family and still has a broken tooth-which bothers him a lot-but we do not have the money to fix it.
Money is a big reason why I have been crying a lot lately. I do not have any. We live paycheck to paycheck and I dug my own hole, so I have to find my way out. You see, my fiancé had no relationship with his dad for the past six years and for some reason when we started dating his dad started contacting him. They began talking again and when he would get off the phone, he would cry in my arms because he missed his dad so much. That would hurt me as much as it hurt him because I do have a stepfather but could never replace my dad and I miss him everyday-everyday.
I found out though, that my fiancé’s dad lived in the Virgin Islands and we lived in Ohio, but I told him that we need to go see his dad. I told him that you never know when his time is up and it will be in the most inconvenient time for you and if you do not fix your relationship now, it will hurt you the rest of your life. He knew where I was coming from and how important it really was, but he had no money and no credit. I told him that I would make the trip happen and we figured everything out and had the vacation planned, then I had to have another knee surgery. I pushed the recovery and physical therapy as fast as I could and told him the trip was back on, but it was even more expensive with short notice and he, understandable, wanted to stay more than three days.
Ever since the trip we have been in so much debt and I am dumping all my money into our bills trying to get everything paid off before I have to leave. I go to school five days a week, I take every shift work offers, I make the dean’s list at school, but I just cannot do it anymore, I am so tired. We just are not making enough money. When we returned from our trip, his checks became cut in half from garnishment for old school bills and my boss cut my hours, no negotiation, so I had to quit for another job. That job is elderly care and they promised me forty hours a week, but I barely ever see thirty hours.
I do not regret taking the trip, it was the greatest thing I could have done for two people, but I always say that good thing happen to good people and I try so hard to be this good person. I gave so many clothes to women at work because than did not fit me anymore and they needed them more than me. I have never done drugs or smoked-I do not even have a speeding ticket. I actually adopted my first dog from the humane society. I knew the girl who was going to get him and she decided that she did not want him and he was getting sick from being there so long, so I got him and I just love him to death. There are so many things I do for other people and I never ask for anything in return, but when is it my turn. When is someone going to help me? When do I get my just reward for all this hard work?
We started having trouble getting groceries, but we are not eligible for food stamps and I do not agree with them anyway because too many people abuse the service. We started putting our groceries on my Walmart card and we kept up with it for a while, but started not be able to pay as much on the bill as we liked. Because I am so young, there is a high interest rate and once it hit over a thousand there was no way to keep up. I am about three hundred from the credit limit and I am going to have to put my whole paycheck towards it next week. I just do not know what to do anymore, we make eight to nine hundred dollars together every two weeks and with all our bills, we do not even have enough to get groceries now. I have to figure out how to pay all my bills, get groceries, get flea prevention for my two dogs and two cats, get gas, and put a three hundred dollar deposit down for my housing in DC by next week and I have no idea, so I just cry.
I have had a little good news lately, that over the past four years I have gained thirty pounds and after three knee surgeries, three ulcers my freshman year, and all the stress I am under now I hit two hundred and four pounds. At five foot three that made me highly obese which made me depressed, made my back hurt, and my knee started hurting again. The worst part was that I have been trying so hard to diet, but I guess my body was under so much stress that it stored everything I ate. The doctor put me on some pills that make you feel weird all the time, but I have lost thirteen pounds in eleven days and feel so much better.
I just want to know what is going to happen next, pay off all my bills, and make it through this.
My fiancé and I have been fighting so much over anything and everything. I am so scared that I am going to lose him because of the circumstances. I am trying so hard to balance everything and the more I try the more it seems like my world is falling apart. There is a liaison at my school who is supposed to help me get ready for my internship and I met with him four times last semester and he never told me to apply for clearance for certain jobs at DC. My advisor for my internship got a hold of me to discuss placement options and was asking if I was interested in working at The White House, but unfortunately, I did not have any clearance and told her that I missed the deadline because I was untold. It makes me so mad that one person could be so inconsiderate and possibly ruin a career option for me.
Okay so let’s get back to some memories. I had this friend in high school who was really my only and best friend. I am not sure exactly when things started to change but her parents were just too strict. Her dad was a pastor, her mom worked in a medical office, and she was the average stubborn redhead. They thought they were raising their daughter the right way, but I think it was too much and she pretty much rebelled. She was caught once “in the act” by her dad and just got grounded and talked to. If it was either of my parents, I would have got the stupid smacked out of me, but oh well. After a little time passed, we would joke about how scared she was and how her dad said, “It would behoove you to…” I do not remember the rest, but his choice of words cracked us up. Next thing you know she started hanging out with the other girls of our class, acting different, drinking, and partying. Actually it was not that shocking, it was what any senior in high school would do.
We began to grow distant and I remember going on our class trip and by the third night, she was spending all her time with a guy on the cruise. Me and the other girl in our cabin got mad because she was coming in loud, drunk, and just being crazy, so we talked to her about it. She did not like us “ganging up” on her and disagreed-I just think she got too much sun and rum. She stayed in the other girls cabin the rest of the trip. When we got back, we had one conversation that started with her telling me how much she loved him and I tried telling her that he used her, she would never see him again, and he actually had a girlfriend back home. She was so mad and then I started “lecturing” her about her new lifestyle choices and that was the end of that. However, today I felt the need to contact her. I said we have both grown and become wiser as time passed and that I live my life without “what-ifs” and I did not want there to be a “what-if” between us. Now, I am just waiting for her response and either way, at least there will not be that “what-if” on my end. What is in the past should stay the past and why should a good relationship end because of high school drama.
 I realized today that I have written fifteen pages, double-spaced, to this piece of writing and I have never wrote a single document this long before. At first, I was forcing myself to write because I wanted it all out of my head, but once I started, I could not stop. I wanted to tell everything that I could remember about my life, but the more I tell the less special I feel. I used to think I was so different, but I am starting to feel that everyone shares the same struggles. I started this whole piece with the title being “An Everyday Life.” At first, I meant it as sarcasm, but now the title is like a foreshadow.
 I thought writhing a book would be easy; I am intelligent, clever, I have an interesting story, but I am getting really discouraged now. At this point I thought six thousand words was a lot and this book was really coming along, but then I found out that I would need over fifty thousand words just to have my work considered a novel. I am not sure if I am going to finish this or if it is going to end up as I planned.