So I started a blog ya'll. I'm still not sure what it's about. I do know that I will use quotation marks and the word "shit" way too often and I probably won't want my parents to read most of the posts. But, they will because I decided a few years ago that they deserve to know me, the good and the bad. I have the kind of parents who don't really have much going on besides what's going on with their kids. Despite this, when I was young, I lied to them constantly and intentionally shut them out of my life. I was a terrible kid. (I'm sure I will share exactly how terrible I was in later posts.)
I feel really really bad about most of the shit I put them through. So I guess now, I try to make that up to them by giving them an all access pass to most things in my life. Hi Mom and Dad👋 Welcome to my life and other silly shit!
Here's my first terrible kid story... When I entered high school, my English teacher pulled me out of class after the first week and expressed that she didn't think I belonged there. If you knew me in high school, you know that there were many reasons why I didn't belong "there" but Ms. Koenitzer was specifically referring to her English class. I think maybe the eighth grade English teacher had made each student a portfolio of all of their writing and given it to the teachers of all the incoming freshmen. Or maybe Ms. Koenitzer had specifically asked my eighth grade teacher for samples of my writing. Either way, she insisted that I had a really special talent and if she made me sit through her English class with the rest of the kids, she would be neglecting my potential. I think she even specifically said, "You aren't going to learn anything in my class." Truth of the matter is, I thought that sounded great! I loved an easy A. In fact, throughout high school and college, I proceeded to make sure that I got the best grades possible with extremely minimal effort. But Ms. Koenitzer didn't recommend AP English. She recommended "independent study" and that sounded more effortless than your average English class. The deal was that I would spend the year trying to get my writing published. As far as I remember, that was my only assignment. I checked in with her a few times a week to show her what I was working on and to go over the submission process with various publications. I always had work to show her every week and I did end up getting a poem published. But at the time, all I cared about was lusting after snowboarders at the local ski hill and driving around with my older sister finding cool skate spots, chasing cute boys on skateboards. And my sister was a writer, still is actually. So I just stole one of her notebooks and copied one of the poems she had written. It was my favorite one, so it was no wonder that it was the one that ended up getting published.
I never wrote much...not then and not now so I don't know if I'll type anything worth reading on here but it's come to my attention lately that I am way better at writing than I am at talking. (I'm also way good at run-on sentences) Now is the perfect time to start writing since I don't have anyone to talk to anyway. Five months ago, I moved to rural Michigan from Northern California. The only person I know here is my business partner. He and I don't talk much since I quit drinking and he found a girlfriend. Most days I only speak to my dog, in my super baby doggy voice nonetheless. So here it goes... here's all the shit I think about that no one gets to listen to.
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