My First Cat
Had to be put down two days ago. Apparently he was quite ill.
Good by Gator. I'll miss you.
Had to be put down two days ago. Apparently he was quite ill.
Good by Gator. I'll miss you.
So it looks like Shauna and I are officially beginning to plan for a family.
We talked last night and she thinks that now is the time for us to start with a baby.
A baby. A child. A smaller version of me.
I'm not freaked out at all. Not at all.
I want a baby. I do. But I have never felt more 9 years old then I do now.
Slept later then normal today (mid morning start today) and I'm still sleepy.
Looking forward to my days off.
I'll try and write something today.
After a lot of mental self torture about moving, I finally talked to Shauna about it. It's very obvious she doesn't want to move at all. The idea of moving out of this city scares her and she says it bothers her that I talk about it. This was really hard for me. I hated how it made her feel and it made me feel bad for doing it, but part of me still wants to move out to Vancouver more then anything else.
I regret talking to her about it, but then I dont really. I regret how it made her feel I guess. I want to move there more then anything, she doesnt and it made her upset and mad at me.
I wish I could make her understand how I feel about it. I feel trapped here sometimes. I feel stuck and that the time in my life is racing away from me so fast that I can almost feel the moments and minutes and seconds getting away from me. It's not that I feel old, its that I feel that there is so much I want to do and so much time is getting away from me or I am putting it to ill use. I feel terrified at the shrinking amount of time I have left. Terrified and I dont know how I can get that across to her when he locks up at the miniscule mention of it.
More another time.
Ok so, right now I feel like just saying...
Please dont think in anyway this is whining or complaining or an attempt for sympathy. This is just shit thats floating around my noodle. Things I think about and want to say. If they were a big enough deal, I would be doing something about them.
I wish I was in better shape. I am trying to do better by my body, but its not happening yet.
I wish this web site looked better. I just dont seem to have the time to learn the skills to make this site better (that and I keep hoping someone takes pity on me).
I wish that Shauna came here. I get the impression that she hasnt come here in a year or more. Which to be honest, makes me sad.
I wish I had a better job. Dont get me wrong, I like working here, but it spends more time driving me nuts then it does making me happy.
I wish I lived in Vancouver. I really dont want to live here any more. I hate that this city closes so early. I hate that there is this stupid mentality of a prarie town. I want to see the ocean more often and the mountains every day and I dont think I can take another winter. I want green grass in the winter and blooming trees in early march. I want above freezing temperatures more often then not. If I miss snow I can drive into the mountains.
I want more money. I am getting tired of being in debt. I am tired of always paying out this money and not getting anything from it. The benefits i got from all the borrow money are used up and made better.
I am starting to feel age. I finally feel the past getting bigger and the future getting smaller. Theres getting to be less time ahead of me and more time behind me.
I want more free time
Ok. Thats enough for now. Again, please dont think that this is a plea for attention or for sympathy or for help. I just needed to get some things out of my head.
Surprisingly enough, work has been ok lately. Not as good as it has been in the past, but things this week werent as retarted as they could have been.
The number of machines waiting to be worked on is pretty low. I suspect this has more to do with people not bringing their computers to us to fix. Business has been slowing down more and more lately and I think (I hope) that the people above me, making important decisions, are getting more and more concerned about that.
I never realized how much I missed the sun until we had a whole week of it. The sun this week has been gorgeous, warming up more then just my body but my insides as well. The sun made me feel more happy and relaxed as well.
I think I might come into work for a bit on Saturday. Last weekend I felt anxious or distracted or perhaps lazy. I felt that I hadnt done anything worth while that day and it bugged me. When Shauna said that I should go to work if I was going to be all crazy and then it kind of hit me. I was going nuts because I wasnt feeling productive and I only really feel that way when I am at work.
Speaking of which...
Nothing yet today. Overslept.
No stairs.
A weak 20 minutes
No stairs
Edit: Walked 8 blocks
25 minutes
No stairs
20 minutes today
No Stairs
30 minutes
No stairs
I also started reading The Grapes of Wrath this past week as well. Cant really recall if I have read the whole thing through or not.
Its obviously a good book.
As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed
to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken
probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts
too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your
best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry
because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you
love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've
never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute
of happiness you'll never get back.
Very sick.
At work.
Homicidal.
Sigh.
Service department is freezing this morning and my hands are hurting pretty good.
I am hoping that it does actually warm up for the weekend like they say it will.
Slept terribly last night. Took some cold medication before I went to bed thinking it would help me sleep, annoying thing was, I couldnt get to sleep at all. Pretty sure I slept for about an hour in total.
Sigh.
Still alive.
Very busy.
No time to write.
Sigh.
Began to take more of an interest in Kaylin's beliefs and religious ideas today. Now dont get me wrong, before today I cared very much about what she was interested in and what she believed, but I didnt look into it for myself. Well this morning (actually before today, but today is when I began in ernest) I began to look more deeply into what she believes and how I can understand it more. She means a lot to me and I want her to know that what means a lot to her means a lot to me.
I started here: www.kemet.org. As with anything this important (to Kaylin and many others) I have respect for it. One thing I was taught growing up is to respect other peoples religions, even if I dont directly believe in it myself. However, at this point in my life I while I dont directly believe in anything, I dont actively say that I disbelieve anything either. Kaylin has made this new faith a large part of her life and has changed how she does things so that she can incorporate it into her life.
Kaylin means a lot to me and I regret not making this effort sooner. From today on I will be making what she believes more a part of my life.
Stumbled across this in some blog rambling today:
The other day an ex-girlfriend called me up after a couple of years of radio silence. She said, I wanted to apologize for how I treated you. I was so angry. I smashed a plate after we broke up. I never broke a dish before or since. And I said, well, you did treat me badly. And you were hard on plates. But I don't feel any anger. People don't mean to do that shit, but they do. I've done it too.
I felt a little righteous, because while it does stroke the smug part of the brain to hear that you were wonderful and she was wrong. But I didn't feel that way for long, because righteousness is not much in comparison to the feeling of resolution that came because I knew that I had given another person some peace. I've been forgiven for things as well, some pretty dreadful, violent things, and it's hard to be forgiven but there is nothing like it; once, after being forgiven, I walked out into the sunlight and the world was stripped of predators, and I no longer was waiting for retribution from mystical forces I do not believe in. So hell, I said, take all the forgiveness you need. We hung up and I thought for a while, and told my girlfriend about that phone call because telling everything is a way to keep the lines crossed, tangled, and braided. She understood, and the focusing ring on the inner camera turned a little more, the picture resolved, a little sharper. Which is what I want for year 31: more resolution.
Found Here.
I want to say that I have done some pretty bad things in my life, but it would be closer to the mark if I said "I've done one really bad thing in my life followed up with some minor offenses to keep it company". The above blogger and his post hit the mark with me today. I dont think the person who I offended and hurt understands the hold that she has over me. The denial of forgiveness can do one of two things, it can snap the desire to be forgiven and make a hard edge to the sores inflicted or it can leave the wounds open and make them sore all the time. I want to be forgiven and the person who could forgive me has chosen to not speak with me nor let me make any attempts at ammends.
I have to admit that a part of me is angry at this. Almost seven years ago now, I made my mistakes. Huge ones and people got hurt both mentally and physically. Since then I have made repeated attempts to ammend and repair the trouble I caused.
It is hard to express how I feel about my friends now. I miss them terribly, I am still greatly remoseful for what I happened, but I am also angry, that they wont even try. Therapy and water under a million bridges wont really fix it. A hello from them, unsolicited from me, would do more then they know.
Is it really so much to ask for?
Something things are a given: The sun rises and sets east to west; The moon always rises and the wind always blows; and I always get a cold at or after the Fringe. Always.
It has everything to do with coming and going from super cooled air conditioned venues and out into the super hot humid Winnipeg weather. This has happened almost every year since I started the Fringe without fail.
I took a sizeable amount of NyQuil last night (capital N, small my BIG FUCKIN Q, I love that Q dont you????)and I have some considerable medicine head this morning. Everything feels different and all I really want to do is go back to sleep.
Anyway, thats it for morning ramblings, I think I will write something computer related later today.
(Edit: Post failed to publish the first time, so a second try was needed)
Some of you on my friends list, and some of those people who find this web page by accident when your looking for physics articles on fusion power, might know that I spent some time living in California. Redwood City, which is south of San Francisco, was the specific city that I lived in.
I think about my time there. I think about it a lot.
For a wet behind the ears prairie boy, who had never been anywhere outside Manitoba on his own, California was a HUGE adventure.
What most of you don’t know is that as well as being a huge positive adventure in my life, California is directly tied to the biggest cross I carry. Perhaps cross isn’t the right term. It’s the biggest weight I carry.
At the time that I left for California, my life was in a bit of a slump. I had NO self confidence, no courage, no real hope. I wasn’t dealing with my parents divorce very well, and I was becoming slowly overwhelmed with a loneliness that was becoming crushing. But I didn’t know it. Before I left, I didn’t know how bad I was. I couldn’t read the warning signs, or perhaps I refused to see them, but I was about to step off the edge of long steep cliff. In California, I found friends who treated me as I always thought friends should. I found a job I really liked and a boss who really wanted me there. I went to places and did things I never did at home. I found support and friendship and people who cared about me for no other reason then they wanted to. And then I left it. I went back to family trouble, personal trouble, money trouble and life trouble. Things were VERY hard, but I managed to get through it because I thought I would be going back to California.
“I can do this, because I know it wont be forever”, I thought. I can deal with the sadness of being alone, because I know that somewhere out there, friends are waiting for me to come home.
Things were bearable because those friends were going to come see me and they did. And while they were here, things were right and fun and ok. The friends couldn’t stay forever, but when they left, the hope of going back to California was still there.
Then things got hard, very hard. I pray to God that nothing in my life will be that hard. I went back to school and tried to finish up my degree. I tried to find friends and love and get my stuff out of my dads basement. But school was hard, people were cold and I was so wrapped up in what I thought I was, no girls saw anything but. And the basement had cold hard grips on me.
What came then is another LONG entry for another day. But I will say that I got very depressed and very scared. When your scared like that, you get angry and defensive and desperate. You can cling and you can push away. I put a death grip on California and my friends. I clung to it as if I depended on it to live and in my thrashing I killed it. I scared my friends away and scared them enough to threaten me with the police. And in an instant all my hopes for going back there disappeared and there seemed nothing else for me.
Guilt makes you do things you don’t normally consider. Guilt can crush you on the inside until you don’t know how to feel anything else. Guilt made my hands move that night of my own accord and ended a three year friendship forever. I didn’t do anything to get back at anyone, or make anyone feel bad or feel that it was their fault. I did what I did because I simply thought that there was nothing after that moment. How could there be anything more?
Its been almost 6 years now since then. Almost ten years since California and the sights and sounds of the city still are strong in my mind and my heart. But as I sit here now, writing this, I can’t remember the most important things. The sound of my friends voices and the look of their faces.
To my Boss from the Bookstore. Your continued friendship through the years since, has kept me sane. And is appreciated beyond words.
To the others. Slowly I forget. Slowly I have a harder time remembering what we did and said and felt. Slowly the memories of the good times disappear into the ether and are forgotten. Faces, places, dinners, things, and adventures disappear and get left behind. Eventually all that will be left is the weight I carry and I wont remember why.
Someone once told me that you should always make the effort to hang on to the best friends. Make the biggest effort for the friends you loved.
Didnt sleep well last night. Argued with Shauna. Fought with the Cats. Got up too early. Slept another hour on couch.
Did not excercise.
Did not shower (not feeling too good about that decision).
I am cranky. I am tired. I am not wanting to be at work.
The world is not pleasing me today.
Exercised again today, before I took a shower. Three times in a row. Beginings of a habit
It's still nothing strenuous, but enough to get the body moving and working. After this mornings workout, I can feel it more. I know that I am terribly out of shape. I hope to repeat the process tomorrow morning again.
Exercised again this morning, before I took my morning shower. Two times in a row. Beginings of a habit
It's still nothing strenuous, but enough to get the body moving and working. After this mornings workout, I can feel it more. I know that I am terribly out of shape. I hope to repeat the process tomorrow morning again.
Ok, so I didnt really die. But I tell you I sure did want to a couple of times there.
Monday morning I woke up with a bit of a stuffed up nose and a cough. As the day wore on, I started feeling more and more run down, more and more stuffed up and my throat got more and more closed. That night I was coughing really, really bad and some of the stuff I coughed up was red. Needless to say, I wasnt going to work on Tuesday.
Tuesday was spent passed out on the couch, waiting for shauna to get home from work. The cough got a lot worse and I was getting kinda feverish. At about 8ish, a really bad coughing fit, ended with me choking/gagging in the bathroom, trying really hard to get what was in my throat out.
Flash forward three hours later and Shauna and I are coming home from the hospital with a prescription for me. Strept throat for me. Yay! Shauna got my antibiotics the next day and I have been on the mend since then.
Look for more interesting posts as early as later tonight!
No posts for the next couple of days. I am very sick with some sort of throat thing and its making my life hell. When I am well enough, I will post again.
Update: I got better
Not the Garth Brooks song, but people I've known in my life.
First off, I have made a handful of mistakes, BIG mistakes in my life in regards to people I have and still call, Friends. Some of those mistakes were made out of a lack of experience and some were made by personal insecurities.
When I was younger, I was the type of kid who had to have his friends do what he wanted and it took a long time growing up to realize that this was not a good way to act. In my teens, I was very selective of the people I made friends with, partly due to huge insecurities I had and partly because I didnt know many people who were like me (geeky, barely smart and barely athletic).
When I was an adult, in university and after, I had numerous and huge insecurities and personal troubles. My friends were few and far between and I made no real attempts to get to know anyone with any depth. Looking back on it now, I beleive that many people made the attempt to become my friend, but in my shyness and detached way, I didnt return the feelings, which is something I regret.
In my early 20s, I made friends with some folks that treated me better then I have ever been treated before and became the friends that I had always wanted, with decency and respect, things I had not really gotten before. After meeting them and being with them for a while, I had, in short, a personal breakdown. One of the numerous side effects of the breakdown was that I lost my grip on reality. My perception of events and people changed and how I reacted to things changed, and not for the better. In that time, I hurt a lot of people very badly, something that I can not express how I feel. I would say I regret doing it, but regret doesnt really cover it. So, those people stopped talking to me (rightly so) and I very slowly got on with my life.
Now as I move into my 30s, almost ten years has passed since those darker days and I look to try and fix some of my mistakes, reconnect with those lost friends, and try to look back on those days with a smile. I also look around me and see that I have friends and that perhaps they need to know a few things.
Even if I dont call or talk to you often (which sometimes I Cant help) your still a friend and a phone call from you is something I will never say no to. I am a shy person, so making the first move to call you or msg you or email you out of the blue, is something I dont do easily. If I havent said your a friend, that doesnt mean anything, again, I am a shy person. I have, as of late, become a hermit, and it has made it seem like I dont do anything and well, your right. Work takes up so much of my time lately that I can not seem to get out of the house to visit with friends. If you want to hang out, call and say your dragging me over to the Toad for a drink. I wont say no (if I can help it).
Well, thats a lot of rambling. Sorry if its incoherent.
To me.
Thats right. Today is my birthday.
Happy Birthday to me.
Yay.
Well, I said I was going to spend an entry talking about all the thoughts on my mind and all the stuff that has happened in the last year. So without further ado...
Work
At the end of June last year I left the longest job I had ever had. For three years I worked for a management consulting firm. I was introduced to the man who hired me by way of my father who had worked with him many years before at a large accounting company. He had met with me only to discuss my resume and how I might improve it and my chances for getting a better job (at the time I was slinging fries at mcdonalds). By the end of our meeting he was so impressed with me that he made me an offer. Come to work for him as his administrative assistant and he would train me and eventually have me doing computer consulting for him and his company. I said I would think about it, but in my mind I had already said yes. I went into this job, very wet behind the ears in the ways of the business world, where the dollar is god. Now, when I started, my duties were: answer the phones, assist my boss in writing letters, answering all emails and managing the office. I was in charge of ordering office equipment and supplies. I was the one who had to be in the office when my boss was out meeting clients. I was the one who made sure those clients who came to our office had what they needed. If you thinking, but doesnt that make you a --- dont even finish that sentance. I knew what I was going to be, but the promises that were made to me (ie, that my computer certifications would be updated, that I would have my own clients, that I would train people, that I would be in charge of buying the office the three new computers we needed, etc etc etc) were incentive enough to do what I needed to.
Three long years went by and none of what was promised to me was given. Stress was beginning to eat away the lining of my stomach and I was getting ulcers at 27. The breaking point was when I thought that I had failed to get into the Fringe Festival as a technician last summer. I went a little stir crazy. I had had enough and was about to kill my boss when the Fringe called and wanted me in. So I left my job for good, rather then take time off. The office job left me bitter and very angry and for most of the last few months, when my financial situtation was at its lowest, it made me very depressed. I beleived that I had wasted my time there, that one man had ruined my life for good. I still believe that to a point. I beleive that my boss then, held me back, kept me in a low place and made sure I didnt leave. I should have tried harder to get out, but the carrot in front of me was always there.
I left the office for the Fringe and worked that. It rejuvinated me and I had a most excellent summer. After the fringe, I had my first real vacation in 3 years. When money ran out, I went looking for work and found The Bay. Working there was something I had wanted since I was old enough to work. I have no regrets about my time there. I met a small handful of excellent people, who if I can help it, will be friends for a long time to come.
Well that was a bit of a ramble and coverd my work life for the last year. I know parts of it are lacking in detail, but you will have to pardon that. Stories From the Stock Boy will continue, so I felt it would just be repeating myself to do so in this entry. Stay tuned, there are lots of stories about Betty and her assistant Tom and James from the meat room.
Working backwards from now till then:
I'm working too hard for too little money in a nice place. A couple of the people I work with are nice and I like them, some of them are not. Like any other job, I spend all my time wishing I was somewhere else.
I have worked for the Winnipeg International Fringe Festival for almost 5 years now and I love it every time I work it. I have met people from all over the world and made some life long friends. I met Eric de Waal from South Africa, a wonderous storyteller and a very nice man. I met the four guys from BC who make Canadian history funny and who make good music. Lastly, I have learned how to ride a bike drunk at 4am.
That one person who I have been looking for all my life, has found me. Two years this summer we have been together. This past summer, I asked her to marry me and in one more summer, we will be getting married. She supports me when I need it, lets me support her when I need it and makes me laugh. We are best of friends first and madly in love second, third, fourth, fifth, and so on.
I am making a home for myself in a nice apartment in a gorgeous and popular area of town. I love it here.
For three years, until the summer of 2003, I worked for a management consulting firm. It sucked ass. My boss ************************ ************* ********* ******* (edited out for fear of a law suit).
Before the Office there was Macdonalds. That was fun, NOT!
I graduated from University. I can not begin to describe how proud I was of myself at finally getting it done. I can barely describe the raw emotions I felt that day when I heard my name called and I stepped out on that stage. I now have a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Winnipeg.
I took time off in 1999 and lived on a very nice farm. It helped me get myself together after a hard time. I understand why some people choose to live in the country, to be farmers or such. It is a laid back place. The people I met were all nice. I enjoyed many happy dinners around kitchen tables with people who were honest and down to earth. My time out in the country probably saved my life. I am grateful for the time there that I was given.
Now, I work hard. I try to make the most of what I have and try not to dwell too much on what I dont have. I try and make sure my friends know how much I appreciate them (and if they dont, and come here: Friends make a man, they define who he is, and I like who I am and who I can call my friends). The past is important to me, but so is what is to come, fatherhood, adulthood and maturity. I look forward to my wedding and what comes every day after that. I look forward to sharing all the news and stories with lost but not forgetten friends.
Its time for another installment of everyone's favourite story, ME!
Well, I think we should just say fuck it, through the chronological, biography kind of thing out the window and I will just tell stories of my life so far in a completely random and nonsequential manner.
Hmmm, what to talk about first. Traveling stories are always fun to tell. Some of my best stories are from when I went, by train, to California and back again. Every trip should begin with some minor catastrophe. Mine was my suitcase breaking open. I had packed a lot of stuff to take with me and when I was putting my luggage tag on my suitcase... it broke! The suitcase literally exploded. So with little more then an hour until my train left, I had to find a new suitcase. My dad and I ran to a local mall and managed to convince a luggage store that was about to close, to sell me a new, LARGE, soft sided suitcase. Thankfully the very nice lady, sold my dad a nice HUGE soft sided case and I was back in business. I remember my dad, who usually argues over every penny he spent, agreeing without question to the cost of the suitcase. It was a very nice present and I still get a lot of use out of it.
The train ride to Vancouver from Winnipeg was fairly uneventful and almost boring. Because of the time of year that I went during, the fall, by the time we entered the moutains it was night time. I arrived in Vancouver early in the morning and got to spend a whole day wandering around before leaving the following day. Thankfully nothing "interesting" happened to me that day.
However, the next morning, the morning that I left, was another story. Being told by my travel agent to be early for my bus to seattle to catch my train to San Fran, I ensured a cab would pick me up at 4am, to get me to the train station (and bus depot) on time. The cab came to get me on time and it got me to the bus depot in less then ten minutes, leaving me with almost an hour to wait. In a nice, seedy kind of area.
I was there for about twenty minutes when out of the dark, came a young and skinny native kid, carrying a gym bag. He was stumbling and looked high. He was very polite, didnt ask for change, but did strike up a conversation with me about who he was, where he was goin and so on. Despite his polite manner, I was very worried. I had all my luggage and my money with me in easy to steal bags. Then, sensing my uneasiness, said "dont worry, Im only on herion". Which, honest to got, made me a little less worried. The worst that he would do to me is fall alseep in mid conversation. Which he did. Twice. Once the station opened, I rushed inside and found a spot where I could hide from herion boy.
I still remember feeling relieved when he told me not to worry, that he was only on herion.
More stories soon.
I know we left off in my younger wilder days of pre-double digits, but I want to jump ahead a bit now ( I can do that, its my blog).
When I went to university, I knew what I wanted to major in right away, theatre. I signed up for a couple of theatre classes and began to colunteer for the shows they were doing. In Winnipeg, the University of Winnipeg Theatre Department is known to be the best there is. Now I am biased in that opinion true, but in my days since then, I have worked with very few University of Manitoba Theatre students.
My first year, saw me taking intro to theatre with an absolutely brilliant man, Per Brask. I was and still am in awe of him and what he knows. Per was my teacher for two classes over my several years in the department and I always felt that if ever I was to become a theatre intellectual, I wanted to be like him. Per seemed to know everything about theatre theory and was very good at articulating his ideas. Perhaps it was his articulation that got me, I wasnt very good at articulating my thoughts back then.
(For amusement: Per was and still is a HUGE Bruce Springsteen fan. When Born in the USA came out, Per said raved about it. So, for his birthday, two of my other teachers Charles and Tim, got him the tape. Little did he know, the tape was a little shorter then he thought. He put the tape in a tape player shortly after recieving it. Per presses play and Bruce begins that famous song, and then repeats the opening chorus over and over and over again. In fact he never seemed to stop. The tape was infact a loop of "I was born in the usa. I was born, in the usa." For about sixty minutes. Per was soooo mad at Charles and Tim that to this day, asking him about it, will get you thrown out of his office.)
My first involvement in or with a show was as a props assistant for a production of The Three Sisters. The director was Reg Skene (ill talk more about him another time) and as Reg tended to do, he loand personal furniture for the show. One afternoon, I went with the props coordinator and a friend to pick up an amoir of Regs, an antique amoir. A VERY EXPENSIVE amoir. Which had to be carry down in one piece, a very steep set of stairs, past a VERY expensive stained glass window and out through a vintage 1920's english oak door. When I was carring the amoir down the stairs, past the window, I though "God, if it starts to slip, please let it take me out the window first and land on me." Well, it didnt and I made it out of the house with no scratches anywhere. The amoir was a perfect fit for the show and was a whole lot easier to move once it was on wheels for the show.
Well, I can see by the hairs on my wrist, that its ten past and that I should be on my way to bed. Come back later for more adventures of me.
Well, I thought it was time to do a little ME time here. So, I have created a new category called "Me" (strangely enough) and I will post bits of my life here that I havent already done. Think of it as a autobiography in installments. Now this does not mean that you will get a lot of dirty details, lots of stuff in my life will be and remain personal and private. But you will get to read some good stories of my life.
In The Beginning
Well, as you may or may not know, I am the son of a mild carpenter and his wife mary. Heh. Sorry, I couldnt resist.
I was born here in Winnipeg, a little less then thirty years ago (getting ancient here now) to a set of parents who did the best they could. I have wonderful parents who do anything for me without spoiling me. The hospital I was born at was the same place my mom as well as a couple of her older sisters, had worked at for a few years and so when I was ushered into the world, I had a lot of people waiting for a glimpse. I was my parents first child, as well as the first grandchild (which means that my grandparents spoiled me rotten).
My first place of residence was way out in the west end of the city. I lived there for four years, of which I remember the last year or so. I dont really remember that much about the inside of the house, but I remember the back yard and oddly enough, our neigherbours house. I used to spend a lot of time over at our neighbours house. They had a young girl about my age and a young boy about my brothers age. I remember that the mother and my mom were good friends and that I was allowed to come and go from their house whenever I wanted. The young girls name was Lora-Lee and when I was 3, I asked her to marry me. She said yes and then I moved away. I dont really remember all that much about that first house, as I tended to spend a lot of time elsewhere. At that time my mom took me everywhere she went and we went a lot of places. I grew up more at other peoples houses visiting then I did at my own home. My mom and I spent a lot of time at her sisters places, mostly my aunty Irma's place and my aunty Janets house. Irma was one of my moms older sisters (well they were all older now that I think about it) and she ran a day care center out of her house. I dont recall a lot about the kids she had at her house, as I think most of them sucked and were mean. My moms sister Janet had a bunch of kids way older then me and so I remember them as long haired hippie kids (John looks like John Lennon in a lot of his pictures) and not as the doctors and parents they have become. Janet had a pool at her place , but I was too young to swim in it then and by the time I was old enough, they had moved from that home.
Our second home and the longest one, was in Charleswood, still in the west end of the city but now across the river. This house was larger, and blue. My dad has a thing for the colour blue. The house was (and still is) painted blue and white. It has a large garage and huge backyard. I think that was what got me when we first moved there, the back yard is very large a house in any city. I dont think too many kids growing up these days get to have a house as big as ours with a back yard as bit as ours was. My brother and I could play soccer and football easily, we had lots of room for our two dogs (ill talk about them another time).
Lots of stuff happened while we lived at the second house. There were about three forest fires near our house, two of which required that people leave the area. There was the time some kid tried to run my friends and I over with his dirt bike and there was the time a tornado almost touched down on our street. Lots happened at the school down the street from me, where I went for about 6 years and played at for at least 10 or more. There was a 7-11 type store near our house that was a staple in my life for a long, long time and there was even an A & W too.
Well, next time I will talk about my grandparents, where they came from and who they are. I would like to try and talk about some of the adventures I had growing up at the second house, but I will have to remember some first.