I don't know what to call it, but I know "normal" ain't it... cain't be...

Cat's got me thinking...
He left a comment with the word "normal" in it.

Me and the word "normal" don't often end up in the same sentence, unless it's someone asking why I canNOT be "normal" (as if it's a CHOICE, or some-damned-thing...).

Fuck if I know.
I also have no idea why my life can't be "normal", but it hasn't been either.

Here are the "highlight" moments, and Gawd, do I hope I can keep this from turning into a novella....

*Born in 1963. That was the first problem, by the way....

*My mother was el-nutso. She married my Dad to get away from her Dad and wound up pregnant a month after they got married, not even knowing how babies came out. She was 18. She was not a good mother.
I've since witnessed a good mother, albeit from a million miles away, but I can still see the multudinous differences.

*Life explodes for the first time at age nine, (although I do remember things from when I was much younger than that, good and bad things). That was when my mother hollered my name one day and I said, "Yeah, I know. Either in my room or outside. I'm goin' outside..." "No", she says, "come here." I go there, to where she and Dad are, in the livingroom.
"Your father and I are getting a divorce", she states.
I went to Dad and stayed there every day of my life since.
Later that same night, as I was leaving to go up the lane to my friends house to sleep over, I waved to Dad as I was leaving. He started to wave back and instead clutched his chest and fell off the chair he was sitting on while he spoke on the phone to mom's goddamned boyfriend. Started having convulsions and all.
I freaked.
Went to the upstairs apartment and got my Aunt Carol and (at the time) Uncle Pat and Carol took me back upstairs and Pat called the 'bolance and I watched it take Dad away, down the road and around the bend, for what still seems like years.
Next, my mom showed up outside of one of my classrooms a few weeks later and her and Dad wound up back together and stayed together til I was in high school and my stupid mom moved to Florida with one of my boyfriends.

*Moved into a new house after that with Dad and mom and got my first horse. Got into showing and hanging at Uncle Henry's farm up the road. Horses saved me and kept me going til I found Trans Ams, for which I owe Burt Reynolds at least a hug...

*First smoked weed at 14, just for shits and giggles. Didn't turn into a career til high school and alla that shit...

*Lost my virginity in the summer of '79. By the end of spring in '82, Mike was dead. He's the one who... then he died. The oddest thing about the whole thing is that he told me he was gonna die one night, after he saw three shooting stars in a row.
I missed the first one, so I only caught two of them.
He was right.

*Then, Walt got killed. One of the best friends I ever had, after we quit trying to date each other... *grin* I still love him, that sweet little dude... Drunk driving accident. He was in the passenger seat. The car impacted with the tree on the passenger side and ended up looking like the letter K. A Trans Am, too...
Sold my Trans Am and lost my mind while my life blew up a few more times...

*Got my heart broken badly for the first time by my now "brother-in-law". Found out years later that he, too, fucked my mother. So, I married his brother? Ookay... (George is as cool as Bruce is a shithead, believe me...)

*Note: This isn't in perfect chronological order, by the way. Some of this shit happened concurrently and some of it overlapped and besides, I've spent the last 20+ years smokin' my brains out trying to get beyond alla this shit, ya know? Anyway....

*Mom moves to Florida with the next guy, Jimmy. Stayed there six months with him. Thanksgiving Day, she calls her Mom's house and me and Dad were there. I had been at my high school football game smokin' some doobage and was stoned when I talked to her. That might explain why I got off the phone with her, turned to Dad and said, "She needs to come back here or she's gonna die..." She sounded like shit. Dad helped her get home, too. That's how fuckin' awesome he is.

*So quickly in the space of a coupla months that trying to remember it is giving my brain wind-burn, I ended up living in "our" house with Mom and a getting-divorced friend of hers, another Carol, and Dad had met Kim and was pretty much living with her.
She's four years older than me.
Has been all along.... (*giggle* whatever that means, but I know it has something to do with it all...)
Then, bada bing, it's me and Dad, Kim and a BABY(!) in "our" house and mom has her own apartment, which I ran to screaming after living with Kim and the BABY(!) for a while.
I'm sure it was thrill-a-minute for her, too.
*rolls eyes*
Neither of us was mature enough to share Dad and I lost and ended up lost for years, partly because of that and partly because I'm a hard-headed fuck who (allegedly) takes shit too personally. (I say "allegedly", because I'm still working my way around that one...)

*Left the house for good, after having enough of mom in about a nano-second and going back to Dad's, by getting married... the first time.
Great guy, really nice, gentle, sweetheart... grew up with him. Me, my cousin Jim and Charlie used to be like the Three Musketeers. Then, I married Charlie.
*siiigh*
It was like being married to my brother, which, coincidentally enough, can also be said of being married to George, kinda. I feel like he's more like my big brother than anything else...
Married in '84, seperated in '85, divorced in '86 and still friends. In fact, he 's on wife #3 or 4, I forget which and after #2, I told him I was starting a "Charlie's Ex-wives Club"... *grin*

*Divorced, living with mom and her new husband who, incidentally was NOT one of my exes-surprise, surprise- had a coupla cool boyfriends during that time. One was a bouncer. A bouncer with the soul of a poet...

*Finally got my own apartment April 1st, 1990. Mom died 27 days later, three days before my birthday. Turned 27 planting her.

*Uncle Henry died. That nearly killed me, losing him. From the time I was a freshman in high school, until I graduated, I knew almost 70 people who died in various ways... gunshot, disease, car accident, suicide, accidental hanging... that one was another ex-boyfriend, Mark. He was arguing with his then-current chick and wanted to scare her, so he pretended to hang himself and fucked up and actually DID hang himself. In a tree. In his own front yard.
He was also a sweetheart.
Anyway....

*Was living with another Mark, in my apartment, when mom died. Shortly after that, I again lost my mind and flew to Missouri to go see this trucker I was in love with, David Hawkins.
He was such a doll... at first. Then, he started shooting speedballs and hanging out the door of the Pete, puking and by the time I got to Missouri, he was into heroin. I knew being there was a mistake and was scared I was gonna get myself killed by his way older girlfriend and got the fuck outta there as soon as I could.
I don't know if he's dead or alive, although I suspect he's gone.
Broke up with Mark for good not long after.

*Had been a police dispatcher for about 6 or 7 years, between two departments.
Left the PD to go to work for the county at the 911 center. Was in love then with a biker/nutjob/Comm. Chief at the center whom I still also love to pieces, named Jack. He was almost as much older than me as Dad is Kim. He's the one I rode behind on the Harley. He's also the one that got me my nickname of "Drag Queen", by dragging me a bit off the back the bike that time... Not his fault. I have told the story before, so in the interest of time (and your eyeballs), I won't repeat it now...

*For some insane fucking reason, I moved out of my apartment and in with Ernie, a cross-addicted dipshit, after quitting the 911 center. He did coke and alcohol in prodigous amounts. He also tried to use his hands on me ONCE and my Dad came by and told him, "I'm not here to tell you not to try to hit her. I'm here to tell you that the next time you raise your hand, I'm going to tell her to go for it and you WILL be sorry..." or something to that effect. All I know is Ernie cooled the hell out and I GOT out...

*Oops, shit. Forgot Tony. I lived with him in my apartment between Mark and moving out. He was the first guy I dated who had a kid. He pretty much fucked my mind about kids forever by telling me that I'd never mean as much to him as his kid did. He's also the last person I got to drop acid with. Ain't nuttin' like giggling for 12 hours straight at a Beavis and Butthead marathon. Except maybe trippin' on rides at a carnival... Man, I'd like to do that one more time before I grow up too much... (Trippin', I mean, not carnival rides.)
Also, you haven't really heard Pink Floyd til you've heard it CRANKED all the way up, when yer trippin'.
It's very nearly a religious experience....

*After Ernie, came George. I remember I was driving around aimlessly in my Ford pickup. Came to a crossroad and turned toward George's mother's house. Got there, nobody home. While I was leaving a note, Pop came home and told me where she was, so I went there, up in town. Asked her how George was doing and she told me turn around and ask him myself... There he was, too. Had dinner with them that night and George told me I could stay with him, rent free, if I helped with his kids and about three days later, we were "together", beyond any "help with the kids for rent" deals.
Got married because of real estate, mostly and seperated in 2000.

*While with George, did the whole "wellacrest" thing, which is so detailed here, I ain't gonna waste a minute even thinking about any of it, except the "left and stole Eric away with me" part....

*Got with Eric and moved away.

*Am about to move even further away.

*This makes the 13th fuckin' time I've moved in my life. Enough!!!!, already....

There's more... details, the archives here... it's almost endless.
It's almost a lotta things... almost funny, almost sad, almost sanity-defeating, almost a good sitcom or reality show.... it's almost a LOT of things.

Except "normal", I think.
So...
What do YOU think, y'all?
What would you call it, besides "interesting" or "never boring"?

I await, with bat-breath*, your replies...
(*"bat-breath": an utterly retarded play on "bated breath", just so's ya know.... I think this particular turn of phrase has something to do with a guy I called Uncle John and later, L.T. (as in Lieutenant, or however it's spelled) when he was my boss at one of the PD's. Anyway, wherever I got it, it makes me giggle...)

Peace

Maybe after we get this move done, I'll flesh out each of those highlights a little. Some of them I've covered before, but it'll be cool to see how my perspective is changed by this move and the passage of time-n-shit.
Hell, all of 'em could be a post unto itself....

Posted by: Stevie at 06:50 PM

Comments

Posted by: Yabu at September 16, 2005 02:28 AM (CiV8V)

Posted by: Bob in Virginia at September 16, 2005 02:22 PM (uKCKK)

Posted by: Captain Harley at September 20, 2005 11:16 AM (M7kiy)

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