The story of me

I've decided that maybe it's time to start recording my story. My whole story. From my earliest childhood memories to what I'll be having for breakfast this morning. I'm sure it's gonna take awhile, but, hey, I got time. And at least I'll have something to write about for the next few weeks.

I'm thinking about trying to write the majority of it in chronological order. Of course, I can change my mind halfway into it. I am a woman, after all.

So here's my story:

In the Beginning

My first memory is of me on my dad's shoulders in the brown family room. The brown family room is still so vivid in my mind it's scary (both having the memory and the brown family room in general). I must have been around 3 or 4 years old because the room had just been built. The whole room wasn't actually brown, just the walls and the sofas. The heavy curtains were blue and the carpeting was this strange mixture of grays and blues. Both those things are gone now. To this day, that room still has ugly brown paneling on the walls. So '70s. We also had these brown sectional sofas, and I remember there were actually 2 pieces (chair size) that were placed back to back in the middle of the room. Who's idea was that? Anyway, Dad's seat was in the corner, the best seat in the house, naturally. While we were watching TV, I'd always climb up onto his shoulders and watch from there.

My next memory is of me and my sister, M, playing. Again, I was probably 4 and M was 2. We must have just seen a movie of people in bed together because I remember the two of us getting into my bed after taking a bath and making kissing noises and touching each other's bums. Hey, we were kids... kids do strange things.

I remember trying to look up my mom's nightgown around this time, too, and her getting very angry with me for doing so. I was an extremely curious child. I remember seeing my Dad's bum while he was getting dressed one day and being completely grossed out. I think I was trying to see if my mom's bum looked like my dad's.

M and I were obsessed with seeing naked people ever since we got cable, but we were always more intrigued with naked women because we wanted to know what we'd look like when we finally got big. I remember being absolutely amazed by breasts. They were just so pretty.

This was also around the time that I realized that my sister, D, hated me. No, she really did. She'll even admit it now. She hated me. She had been an only child until I came along 10 years later. Who the hell did I think I was horning in on her show?

She let me suck on permanent markers. She also made me pick up an entire box of rice krispies that had fallen on the carpet with my hands instead of getting the vacuum cleaner out. She and her friends laughed at me when I reached to pick something up off the floor and my underwear was showing under my skirt.

This leads to the tale my mother absolutely loves to tell people, the day D left me home alone. I was 5, and my friend, Krissy, had come over after school. Around 3:30pm, D's new boyfriend showed up at the house. D then took Krissy and me aside and told us that she and her boyfriend were going to go for a walk. She said they'd be back soon, but in the meantime, I was to answer the door when her old boyfriend showed up. I was to tell him she wasn't home.

They left. Krissy and I played for a while. Then the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was D's old boyfriend. I told him D wasn't home. He asked where she was. That was when I spotted the gun in the car. It was sitting on the middle console. I told him D had left about an hour ago, and I didn't know where she was. Then he left.

I closed and locked the door. Another half hour passed, and D hadn't come home yet. By that time, Krissy and I were really scared. We didn't know what to do. So I called my mom, and told her that D hadn't come home yet. Mom told me she'd be home in a few minutes.

My mom must have flown home. She worked about 6 or 7 miles away, but it seemed like I had just hung up the phone and there she was in front of me. We were crying and scared, and we blurted out the whole story to my mom.

About half an hour later, D finally came back to the house. She was, shall we say, VERY surprised to see my mom's car in the garage. When my mom asked her where she had been, she told her that she was in the backyard the whole time. When my mom asked her why she didn't come back into the house after the old boyfriend had left, D had no answer. After a huge fight, we came to find out that D and her new boyfriend had taken a walk around the block and had hung out in the woods that are on the other side of the back street behind the house. I GUESS you could call that the backyard.

During this fight, my sister called my mom a bitch, and my mom struck her with one of those spikey curling irons. It was a very bad day.

If my sister didn't all-out hate me before this incident, she surely did after it.

Hey, in my defense, I was 5. And the dude had a gun.

That's all for today.