Well, I used to blog on Myspace. And now I have switched over to Facebook, which does not have a blogging capability. My oldest child (Paige) who is actually not my child suggest I start blogging. So, here I go. Today I went to this "boot camp" type of a workout at the YMCA, I have been frequenting the Y quite a lot lately, some of it is do to my trying to loose weight, part of it is to clear my head, but today I thought about, side note it's 11:11. I obsess over number in the clock, 11:11, 3:33 and 12:34 are the one that usually catch my eye, it's almost as though they come more than twice a day. So back to my story, I think about my childhood and being overweight when I exercise, I do not know why, I think about my daughter, Alex, and her weight, it's like I am trying to prevent her from becoming me, she once said to me, "when I get fat I can just have surgery like you" ( I had a gastric bypass a few years back) Anyhow, I thought about 1 specific incident when I was nine. At the time my mother was a drug dealer (speed) and there was a guy, he was called Punk. I never liked him, he was an asshole. So on a day, It seems like it was a week day, like a Wednesday maybe. He was ALWAYS over at our house, buying and doing drugs, which I now know, at the time I just suspected. My mother had been a street pharmacist for years at this point. They (My mom and Punk) were in the bathroom for what seemed like forever, and I kept banging on the door and asking my mother to come out, that my brothers (Jansen, who was 8 at the time Jacob, who was only a year old were hungry) She just kept telling me to get away from the door, she would be out soon. Finally, Punk emerged, and closed the door quickly. He gave me a dirty look. He said, "why do you have to sit there all fuckin' day begging for food?" Then my mom came out of the bathroom. I told punk to" shut-up, I was talking to my mom" He then said "you're a fat little bitch" I looked at my mother. I said nothing, I just looked at her with eyes that wanted her to say something, eyes that longed for a mother who would stick up for me. Eyes that wanted the woman who grew me inside of her body to choose me once, for one time in her whole life, pick me, not some passing scumbag. But this is what I heard. "What do you want me to say, you are fat." This changed my life. It changed me. I walked away from her and him, I went into my bedroom, which was filled with piles of dirty clothes everywhere. She never cleaned. I sat in my room and I thought about how as far back as I could remember I was always 4th or 5th. Maybe even lower on the list than that. When I was 5. My mom had a New Years Eve party. I used to sit in the front yard and eat sour grass during the day when I was playing. Well I was allergic to the sour grass. I knew I was allergic, I ate it all the time, ans had gotten hives and would itch, but they would go away. So anyhow, my mother, who had a lot of friends invited all these people over, I remember her and some other blonde decorating the house. We lived at my grandmothers house in San Dimas at the time, it was a tri-story, I picked a bunch of the grass and took it up stares since I would be staying up there in my room for the night. I proceeded to eat lots, and lots of sour grass. I went down stairs a couple times to tell my mother I was getting a lot of bumps on me. She told me to go back up stairs and lay down, I came down a final time and told her I could breathe, I was dying, she told me to knock it off and told me to go talk to granny, who was on the bottom level of the house. So I went to her, she took a look at me and rushed to San Dimas hospital, where I ended up getting a shot because I was going into anaphylactic shock. Again, I felt angry toward her. My grandmother, who is just as screw-up as my mom, only she and I get along slightly better, and she is at least functional in life. A few weeks later I lost my first tooth, I was in the bathroom, and it was hanging by a thread, I twisted it around and out it came I was so excited! I went to show my mother, and she was on the phone, she just kinda waved me away. So I went and showed my granny. I have never felt loved by my mother. Not ever. This has damaged me in a way, maybe good, but also bad. I can tell you that when I was in school, I would always ask my teachers for help, even when I didn't need it, just so I could have a a woman sit next to me and talk very quietly by my ear and it felt like love to me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
MIKE WAZOWSKI
I have a friend, his name is Mike Makowski. Mike and I have been friends since the seventh grade. We met in Mrs. Keys social studies class where he one day borrowed a pencil from me. The next day he slipped this letter to me, being that I am who I am I figured it was some sort of letter professing his love for me. But, it wasn't it was a thank you letter, a LONG thank you letter, as even he will admit to this very day. Then later on in Mr. Sanders in home room in high school he and I sat next to one another and he would draw this little bunny he named, "Atom" and this rabbit was basically this on-going comic book character that blew things up. I thought it was hilarious. Then there was John McCollum, he was a weird little boy, he may have had narcolepsy, I don't know, but he sat on the other side of Makowski, so me and Makowski would always stare at him, we were looking at his profile, and his mouth was always open and he would even drool sometimes (no, there is nothing wrong with him actually) So anyhow, 18-19 years later Mike Makowski is one of my favorite humans on the planet. He always puts me in a good mood, he is insightful, and caring, and he knows his shit about apple products. Two songs remind me of Mike. First is "We walk" by R.E.M. and 2nd, is "only in dreams" by Weezer. Really all Weezer reminds me of Mike. But that song more than the rest. I have just been thinking about him, and I wanted to share a few stories about the man my husband told me it was okay for me to marry of he dies.
Breakin' 3- Breaking Me
So for those of you who were alive in the 80's and for those of you who know me. You know I love the Breakin' movie series. There was the original, "Breakin" where Turbo, Ozone and Kelly took to the streets and even a beach where Jean-Claude Van Damme can be seen in the background trying to get freaky too. So, then in "Breakin' 2- Electric Boogaloo. (which that title alone should make you want to watch it) the original gang is back to save "Miracles" this neighborhood kids club in the ghetto. And "hot-tot" and "baby-legs" are also in this movie. The point is I love these movies, but this blog has nothing to do with that, I just needed the reference for my blog title.
For those of you who do not know. I am an asshole, a bitch, I'm loud, obnoxious, annoying, I'm Jayda. At the end of the day, it's a defense mechanism. I know it is. I have known this for a long time. I had a messed up childhood (like a lot of people) I started "changing" me and what I was to people at a very young age. From about 2nd grade on I remember telling people my mom was a flight attendant. In reality, she was a street pharmacist, and sometimes a bartender. I knew this, but, I didn't want others to know it. When I was little I used to think everyone had a mom and a dad and their lives were wonderful. Huge mistake. Had I known the way things really are. I would have just laid my "bad hand" out at that time. Maybe not so harshly, but knowing me, maybe I would have. Over time, people slowly found out the real truth. I guess it's hard to keep up a lie forever. One time, I was in 3rd grade, I went to Summit Elementary in Rancho Cucamonga. At the time, my mother was with my brother Jacob's dad. His name is Fred. At the time, I knew he and my mother were on drugs, and at the time I knew he hit my mom, I did not know however that he had schizophrenia. I knew he would just go off sometimes, but I didn't know why. So, back to my tale. So there was this little girl across the street named Sabrina Murphy, she had a little brother named Justin, he was my brother Jansen's age. So it was nice that we had friends too play with, although I did always try to either play outside or over at her house. Anyhow, my mother one day asked if I would like Sabrina and Justin to spend the night with Jansen and I. I did, but I was afraid of what she would see or hear, or maybe worse find out my mom was not a flight attendant. ( This girl knew my mom did not leave for a job, she lived right across the street from me??) I am really stupid. So I told my mom, I was concerned that it wasn't a good idea because of her and Fred. My mother assured me that things with her and Fred were going very well and it would be fine. So I said okay. Sabrina and Justin came over, and the night went well, my mom made dinner, we played and laughed and had a great time. Fred wasn't there the whole time, I am not sure where he was. So we all went to sleep. At 1:16 a.m. Fred came home. He slammed the front door, which woke us all up, Sabrina was in my room with me, as soon as I heard the door, my heart sank, he went pass my door, down the hall to where he and my mother's room was. He started screaming at her. Calling her names accusing her of things. I froze. The fear I felt was not because of Fred, I never feared him like my mom did anyhow. My fear was that my secret was out. But it got worse, I began to hear thrashing, banging, things being knocked over, crying, I heard my mother plead with him "Please stop, the kids have friends over" and still not a tear rolled down my face. Sabrina was crying, Justin and Jansen and I went into the living room maybe because it was farthest from my mom's room, I don't know. Then the door to my mom's room opened. Fred drug my mother down the hall by her hair, she was bleeding, she was crying, he was calling her names and he shoved her a couple times. I remember the look I gave him. I wanted to kill him. He looked at me, he asked me if I wanted some too? I shook my head. All I could think about at that time was, "How could he do this in front of Sabrina and Justin?" Some of this night is a blur. I don't remember when he stopped parading my mother around back and forth in front of the four of us, but I do remember when he went out into the garage and my mother went into the bathroom to clean off her face, I ran in after her and she was balling, she looked like hell, it wasn't the first time I saw her beat-up, and it also wasn't the last. I looked at her, and I was mad at her, the thoughts in my head were racing, "how could she let this happen?" "why did she lie and say Fred was OK?" Sabrina came to the bathroom door and said, "I want to go home now" I wish I could have gone with her. My mom told her "just a minute" I watched Sabrina pack up her stuff and she didn't say a word to me. And I watched her walk out the door, she didn't even speak to me. I was mortified. It was the weekend and school was 2 days away. I hoped and prayed Sabrina would tell no one of what went down at my house. But she did, at the time it seemed like everyone knew. I was so hurt by her for saying anything, but as I look back on it now, I'm more hurt for my mom. As much as me and my mom have reversed rolls, and we fight, I really I am better off with out her. I cannot even imagine the humiliation and shame she must have felt walking Justin and Sabrina home after 2 o'clock in the morning, knocking on their door and having to show her face, there was no denying what had happened to her, and she had to apologize for getting beat-up in front of their kids. I didn't think about that for years. Now, like many things in my life it haunts me. I feel horribly for my mother, she cried out that we had friends there. I can't imagine the embarrassment, well, maybe I can. We didn't live there too much longer after that, and I was never friends with Sabrina again. She always looked at me differently. My brother Jansen doesn't even remember this, my mom does though, we've talked about it many times.
So, now having wrote this, when I start treatment on Monday, and all these stories and wrongs and bad things come out. Will I not be the same Jayda anymore? Will there be no reason to smart-off and make rude and snarky comments about people because I won't be as broken anymore? I still want to be the same me. Less broken of course, but I fear it will really change who I am to my core, because my childhood and my parents, and all these stories made me the broken person who sits here writing this story today. This is the thought that has been occupying mind today, well this and the Royal wedding. ;) See I'm still me.
For those of you who do not know. I am an asshole, a bitch, I'm loud, obnoxious, annoying, I'm Jayda. At the end of the day, it's a defense mechanism. I know it is. I have known this for a long time. I had a messed up childhood (like a lot of people) I started "changing" me and what I was to people at a very young age. From about 2nd grade on I remember telling people my mom was a flight attendant. In reality, she was a street pharmacist, and sometimes a bartender. I knew this, but, I didn't want others to know it. When I was little I used to think everyone had a mom and a dad and their lives were wonderful. Huge mistake. Had I known the way things really are. I would have just laid my "bad hand" out at that time. Maybe not so harshly, but knowing me, maybe I would have. Over time, people slowly found out the real truth. I guess it's hard to keep up a lie forever. One time, I was in 3rd grade, I went to Summit Elementary in Rancho Cucamonga. At the time, my mother was with my brother Jacob's dad. His name is Fred. At the time, I knew he and my mother were on drugs, and at the time I knew he hit my mom, I did not know however that he had schizophrenia. I knew he would just go off sometimes, but I didn't know why. So, back to my tale. So there was this little girl across the street named Sabrina Murphy, she had a little brother named Justin, he was my brother Jansen's age. So it was nice that we had friends too play with, although I did always try to either play outside or over at her house. Anyhow, my mother one day asked if I would like Sabrina and Justin to spend the night with Jansen and I. I did, but I was afraid of what she would see or hear, or maybe worse find out my mom was not a flight attendant. ( This girl knew my mom did not leave for a job, she lived right across the street from me??) I am really stupid. So I told my mom, I was concerned that it wasn't a good idea because of her and Fred. My mother assured me that things with her and Fred were going very well and it would be fine. So I said okay. Sabrina and Justin came over, and the night went well, my mom made dinner, we played and laughed and had a great time. Fred wasn't there the whole time, I am not sure where he was. So we all went to sleep. At 1:16 a.m. Fred came home. He slammed the front door, which woke us all up, Sabrina was in my room with me, as soon as I heard the door, my heart sank, he went pass my door, down the hall to where he and my mother's room was. He started screaming at her. Calling her names accusing her of things. I froze. The fear I felt was not because of Fred, I never feared him like my mom did anyhow. My fear was that my secret was out. But it got worse, I began to hear thrashing, banging, things being knocked over, crying, I heard my mother plead with him "Please stop, the kids have friends over" and still not a tear rolled down my face. Sabrina was crying, Justin and Jansen and I went into the living room maybe because it was farthest from my mom's room, I don't know. Then the door to my mom's room opened. Fred drug my mother down the hall by her hair, she was bleeding, she was crying, he was calling her names and he shoved her a couple times. I remember the look I gave him. I wanted to kill him. He looked at me, he asked me if I wanted some too? I shook my head. All I could think about at that time was, "How could he do this in front of Sabrina and Justin?" Some of this night is a blur. I don't remember when he stopped parading my mother around back and forth in front of the four of us, but I do remember when he went out into the garage and my mother went into the bathroom to clean off her face, I ran in after her and she was balling, she looked like hell, it wasn't the first time I saw her beat-up, and it also wasn't the last. I looked at her, and I was mad at her, the thoughts in my head were racing, "how could she let this happen?" "why did she lie and say Fred was OK?" Sabrina came to the bathroom door and said, "I want to go home now" I wish I could have gone with her. My mom told her "just a minute" I watched Sabrina pack up her stuff and she didn't say a word to me. And I watched her walk out the door, she didn't even speak to me. I was mortified. It was the weekend and school was 2 days away. I hoped and prayed Sabrina would tell no one of what went down at my house. But she did, at the time it seemed like everyone knew. I was so hurt by her for saying anything, but as I look back on it now, I'm more hurt for my mom. As much as me and my mom have reversed rolls, and we fight, I really I am better off with out her. I cannot even imagine the humiliation and shame she must have felt walking Justin and Sabrina home after 2 o'clock in the morning, knocking on their door and having to show her face, there was no denying what had happened to her, and she had to apologize for getting beat-up in front of their kids. I didn't think about that for years. Now, like many things in my life it haunts me. I feel horribly for my mother, she cried out that we had friends there. I can't imagine the embarrassment, well, maybe I can. We didn't live there too much longer after that, and I was never friends with Sabrina again. She always looked at me differently. My brother Jansen doesn't even remember this, my mom does though, we've talked about it many times.
So, now having wrote this, when I start treatment on Monday, and all these stories and wrongs and bad things come out. Will I not be the same Jayda anymore? Will there be no reason to smart-off and make rude and snarky comments about people because I won't be as broken anymore? I still want to be the same me. Less broken of course, but I fear it will really change who I am to my core, because my childhood and my parents, and all these stories made me the broken person who sits here writing this story today. This is the thought that has been occupying mind today, well this and the Royal wedding. ;) See I'm still me.
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