my family and the road to nyc

I thought that I should try and write my blog in some kind of order. Chronological makes the most sense to me. And since I am now in the habit of telling all, my first couple of entries will be some background on me, an outline or shell if you will; where I come from, who I am, and of course, random thoughts and run-on sentences. I will touch on items that I feel are important to know, that I haven't vocalized, until now.

I was born on the Sacramento Air Force Base on September 6, 1981. My father , a gnarley alcoholic/drug addict load master for C-130 cargo planes, and my mother, a housewife from Thailand that was cheating on her current husband (an aviator wearing pilot in the USAF with great hair) with my gnarley load master alcoholic/drug addict father, were both young, in love (i hope), under the influence, and heavily sedated. Life in California was short lived.

When I was 4, my mother decided to leave my father for the 42nd time and flee with my brother and I to the arms of my grandmother in Pennsylvania. Along the road to granny's house on the other coast, we lived in various places like shelters for battered women (where the sheets had skid marks, and the women sat around naked) and homeless shelters (where there is always green been casserole, and the people smell like urine). These were times that I bonded with my brother more than I have ever bonded with anyone. We dealt with our problems and lack of money by laughing. To this day, we cannot speak without excessive laughter, but I digress.

My father found us. Of course by the time he did, we were at his mothers house. (I should also note that my mothers family is in Thailand. All of them.) With his government Air Force training,my father found his was home. We lived on the floor of my grandmothers basement, and my parents were back together. I went to school, my father was still drunk but now kicked out of the Air Force and my mother worked in a factory making computer parts on the third shift. Our clothes came from church donations, and our food from stamps, our shelter from my grandmother, and entertainment from terrorizing the community.

We saved some money and moved to Philly (Apt M24), and shared a 2 bedroom apartment with 1,000,000 cockroaches. My father started working and partying...one more than the other. Again, my mother, brother and I sought the comfort of shelters with skid marks, and homeless homes with green been casserole for now what seemed like the 83rd time.

And again, he found us. It somehow came about that my father found god, and my mother approved. Things got better, and for the majority of grade school life was relatively normal. That is, until my sister was born, and my parents were in a car accident.(insert Debbie Downer sound here)

They were rear ended by a woman who had been drinking, and my father sustained numerous injuries, none more debilitating that the injury to his back. We moved to my grandmothers again. He ran to the comfort of drugs, alcohol, and this escalated more than I ever thought it would. Pain medication; vicodin, narbacet, percocet, Advil, fish tranquilizers, Oxycontin, thin mints...his old friends who now had a reason for hanging around. Years went by went he didn't leave the house. Months went by when I wouldn't see him awake. I was young, and never understood what was happening nor did I ever question it.

Granny had enough and kicked them out. A short stint in an apartment, and my mother left to an undisclosed location. My father to rehab/half-way house, and my sister, back to granny's. My brother left for the air force, and I struck out on my own.

Random jobs, high school, starting a business, being poor, and living with friends sucked. So I left for Bloomsburg, PA. The only college I was accepted to that I could afford to go to with financial aid and loans. This is where I would spend the next 5 years. In 2004, I moved to Chapel Hill, NC where I lived in a locker room. I managed to pick myself up, and get a job working for the state, and eventually bought a house, and got my shit together...kinda.

Four years later, I got an offer in NYC, and took it. I left Chapel Hill for the city, and I now sit in my office on the fourth floor of 560 Broadway in SoHo. NYC and the rest will be covered in good time.

So that is my family and the fly-by on how I got to where I am right now. The details will be filled in, and all of your questions will remain unanswered...That is assuming that you have questions. Congratulations on wasting a perfectly good 10 minutes.

lincoln