In retrospect, 9th grade wasn't really that bad.

I woke up in the middle of the night. For the first time in months my mind did not turn to her. Instead I thought about the future. The new people in my life, the new adventures we may or may not have. The encouragement I am getting from one in particular. Pushing me to do something I never thought I would do. Introducing me to new things I never liked before. I’m starting to see things in a different light. Sure my life is crap right now, but it is far from over.




A lot is two words.



Mrs. Orrick hated me. I’m not exaggerating here, she really hated me. She told my mother on Parent Teacher night that she thought I was a bad seed and would never amount to anything. When my mom got home she asked me if I did anything to Mrs. Orrick to make her hate me. I said no, she’s just mean.

It was bad enough that I had to sit in her class an hour everyday, but I was an office TA and had to go collect attendance cards from her class every morning. Her door was always locked. I had to wait for someone to open the door. I would have to stand next to her desk while she took roll and filled out the card. I was told by Shaunna that I looked awkward and annoyed. I felt like the whole class was looking at me and silently laughing because every morning Verne has to stand up under the words “A Lot is two words” which she had printed on the chalkboard all year long. I tried not to make any eye contact with anyone in the room. I got the hell out of there as fast as I could.

There was some girl that worked in the office with me. She would sit and stare at me. It felt good but at the same time it creeped me out a little. I felt bad for her. The secretaries would tell her to stop daydreaming about James right in front of me. I blushed every time. I could only imagine how she felt.

I was given the office gig as sort of a punishment. The year before me and some friends forged a teachers name on a library pass. We had to go to the Vice Principals office. She took us in one by one. She told me that she knew I was a good kid and that she suspected that I might be having family problems at home. She said she was going to look out for me and make me work in the office the next year. I figured she was joking.

First day of ninth grade my schedule says Office TA for first period. I walked in and she said “Told you so” I learned to like working there. All the ladies there loved me. They always told how cute I was.

That started to bring me out of my shell. I guess all I needed was an ego boost. I had a girl fawning over me. Years later I found out there was another one. I started making friends. My grades were going up. I even made the honor roll. With the exception of my bully problems with Danny, life was pretty good for awhile.

Cave in

I called. I said happy birthday. She said thank you. I siad goodbye. I hung up.

Still in a good mood though. I'm beggining to see the light.

It's not all "Poor Me"

I can't seem to do this when I'm in a good mood.
Don't write what the people want. As soon as you do, you're done.

She-Deleter

Today is her birthday. I will not call, I will not write. It's the first birthday in twelve years that I will not be at her side.
Moving on.


Another cool little chat session last night.

Moving on.

I've decided to search deeper into my history. There has got to be the answers I'm looking for somewhere back there. I want to find out who I really am. I want to know what shaped me and made me the person I am today.

I'm on the guest list for a show tomorrow night. It's a plus one. I'll go alone.

My birthday present to myself this year is getting her name covered up on my arm. I will have some new/old friends with me. I like the symbolism in that.

Urban Cowboy

From age 6 to 9 my mother would make me dress in cowboy clothes for the school pictures. After that It was always polo shirts and cords.

No Age

1. Stop reading into things.


2. Accept things for what they are.

3. Remember the fact that some people actually like you just as you are.





I had a really cool chat with someone last night. The fact that they take time out of their busy life to give me a few minutes just thrills me. It’s giving me something to focus on other then memories of a failed marriage. We have this weird past, maybe spoke two or three words to each other. We almost got married in some mock wedding in 9th grade. W haven’t seen or heard from each other for almost 25 years. But when we talk it’s like we were never apart. It all comes out so easily.

Thank you for being a friend

Don't say a word. The last one is still stinging.

Her reply

"You're doing fine."

Not really, nope. I'm a mess.