Everybody Loves a Monkey

1988 - Standing there in my Cure T-shirt, high top shoes and probably stone washed jeans... I would expect nothing less of my fashion tastlessness in Jr. High... No, there aren't any pictures of this time of my life. Lots of t-shirts, no makeup, long blond hair... no dies, no particular haircut, unless of course you counted my home cut bangs as a style... and even those were subjected to the oh-so-stylish "wall o hair" do... curling iron, a pick and lots of aqua net. I wish I had pictures, but alas.. I don't. Sorry. I'm not sure how I fell into this rut, the negative attitude (still doing well in school, but just not excited about anything). I made friends with a group of girls that were really good at criticizing people and I jumped right on that wagon. It was so quick... going from grade school where I'd ask the white girls to not make fun of the black girls because my dad is black and it hurts my feelings (He's really not but it did bug me that they'd talk smack about African American people like they were less of a person because of their skin. I'd bet there are still ppl out there that think I'm half black. :) There I was, a poser burner punk kid that wasn't happy with anyone, didn't like to drink or do drugs but didn't mind that people thought I did and no, I didn't want any new friends. Leave me alone, I've got plenty, thank you.

I'm standing in the hallway of my Jr. high school, dreading going to gym for 2 reasons. The gym teacher, who was a total perv. I do believe the guy was fired in later years for being said perv. Too bad because he was a good lookin guy with a great gig... Second reason, Aricelli. She was this Hispanic girl that was probably 3 times my size. I guess that's not really saying much for me since I was a 2 x 4 weighing in at a womping 95lbs. No, I wasn't anorexic or anything like that, just a late bloomer that didn't stop growing until she was 20 years old. Seriously. So in Jr. high, no boobs, no butt, no hips, no style and only a handful of friends who later, would end up being "the wrong crowd". But I digress... Aricelli had something against me and I had no idea what it was. A week earlier, she "passed" me a basketball and ended up jamming my pinky finger. Nice huh. I didn't do anything to deserve that, she was just a bully. So, in I went.... suck it up and just do it, right?

Yes, she was there with her friend, whose name escapes me now... And of course, as she did every gym class, she got up in my face, yelling at me for no reason, telling me she was going to kick my ass... Instead of playing it silent, I just looked here in the eyes and said "Okay, go for it. Lets get this out of the way so we can get back to playing volleyball. I'm bored with this already"
And she didn't know how to react outside of saying that she would really do it... Now, mind you this is in front of the entire class. I'm not very good at speaking in public, but for some reason, I guess I just had enough of it. I wasn't being smart, I was telling her that if she really needed to do it, then go right ahead and get it out of the way. (I wasn't TOO concerned since I grew up with my older brother and 3 boy cousins... hello tomboy) I was prepared to defend myself.

Well she never did do anything to me. In fact, she left me alone after that point. Her friend turned out later to be a really nice girl (in high school) and Aricelli dropped off the face of the earth after 7th grade. My guess is a pregnant drop-out.

Anyway, it was after that moment that I took a step back from my life and looked at where I was, where I was going and really thought about how I felt about it... and I didn't like it at all. I didn't like who I was. I didn't like the idea of going where I was going and I wanted different. So I changed everything. I went from talking to the same 4 girls every day and no one else, to talking to EVERYONE who came my way. I woke up every day and smiled. I decided that my fate was not determined by my mother's actions or my grandmothers words...maybe guided a bit, but in no way was anyone going to dictate who I was or where I ended up, just make me stronger. I was going to wash the bitch right off of me. And I did.

After that summer, I went back to jr high...I was friendly with everyone I came across... I joined the macromay club JUST because there were a bunch of bullies making fun of it and the "dorky" girls that wanted to be a part of it... FUCK them I figured. I can do what ever I want and I won't let anyone tell me different. I can weave me a plant holder with the best of them and STILL have friends from every "click" in the school. Watch me.

And I did. And I smiled. And I threw away all my Cure tshirts... which was hard... Not that the cure had anything to do with it, but it somehow labeled who you were and which click you fit into. I didn't want that image anymore. I wore mis matched socks just to see if anyone noticed (and no, they didn't) For my 8th grade graduation, I wore an entirely green outfit to walk across the stage and get my "diploma". Green sweater, green pants and GREEN SHOES. Patten leather green shoes. I wasn't going to wear all black, like the "punk rockers", I wasn't going to wear a pretty little dress like those rich gals, and I wasn't going to don the argyle sweater like the preppies... I was going to be different.

And guess what I got? The entire gym to stand up clapping for me. :) Probably because I looked absolutely ridiculous, but I didn't care. I got a smile out of most everyone I wanted, including Aricelli's friend. That's what I wanted and that's the way it stayed.

High school, I had made friends with an older gal that graduated the year before I started high school, but everyone knew her and her friends. I met her through another gal that babysat her kid - which I later took over doing and was dubbed "Mikey's dad". :) So, I was adopted into so many different groups of friends... but a diverse group of people, a group where I found a handful of really great friends. A rocker, a prep, a Breakfast Club of friends. And we all shared ONE locker becasue it was located in the middle of the 4,000 kid school. I joined soccer, I focused on getting my grades up to an A average, nothing less would do. And I talked to EVERYONE. I helped EVERYONE. I accepted everyone for who they were and appreciated all the friends that I had.

My grandmother told me that my mother was a loser and her kids would never amount to anything. I used to wonder if she realized she was talking to her granddaughter, but there I stood in front of her, in clear daylight. She never was a happy woman. Look at me now. I'm happy. That's the hardest thing to accomplish for so many people that I feel privileged. I have so many words about the family I grew up in, moving out of my house, in with my friend and her baby when I was 13, moving back in with my mom when I was 16 after she bought a house, broke up with her boyfriend who was the reason I moved out in the first place... Only to have her move back in with him and leave me in a house to myself. Not a bad gig for most 16 year olds, but I took the semi - responsible route and took care of my house and myself. I could go on and on, but I may put myself to sleep.

All in all, my family is lazy. They want the easy route out and most of them want to blame the next guy for their short comings. All of my cousins have been incarcerated for stupid shit, my brother, I do love him, but he's the laziest of them all! Do I REALLY have to remind you to call mom on Christmas? My aunts, uncle, grandma... they're all feuding for a reason that not one of them can come right out and explain. All I know is that I haven't been to a family function on my side since I was 10. It sucks that I was forced to grow up as early as I did. Sure, I did plenty of stupid things in my life, but I managed to pull myself out of the crap that is my family and I've made a new road for myself, my family and my future.

I couldn't be more excited for the direction I'm headed. I have an amazing husband and a beautiful baby boy. I love my perfect little house...although if it were possible, I'd move it about a thousand miles south of us. :) But all is wonderful. My son will grow up in this big family and he'll complain about things that I never had a chance to complain about. "I hate family reunions. Why do I have to go visit my uncle? I have things to do here!! Ugh, aunty soandso has the worst taste in clothes, I wish she'd just send me a check for Christmas! Do I HAVVVEEE to be a part of the family portrait? This sucks... "

:) I can't wait.

And if I see him trippin down that road I was once traveling, I'll smack him upside his head! In the most loving way, of course. :)

What a boring story. Sorry.