Feel free to skip these next few posts if you'd like. It's just me chronicling a bit of my life as writing practice. If you'd like to read it, that's okay too. It's definitely the abridged version with a little surprise at the end. So here goes...
I was born in New York City in November of 1956. At the time, my mother and
When I was about 6 months old, I guess, my mom and the sperm donor got back together and we all moved to south Florida, including my older half-sister Cathy. I heard Texas was a close runner-up in places to live, but my mom heard there were snakes everywhere so Florida it was. It's funny to think about how different my life would have been had we gone to Texas instead... or maybe it wouldn't have. The man my mom ended up with ~ the man I call Dad ~ actually lived in Texas as well. Maybe they would have ended up together anyway and since he ended up moving to Florida ~ maybe I would have still grown up there and maybe my life would have been exactly the same. Weird, right?
Anyway ~ I grew up in south Florida. My mom was a switchboard operator for a hotel on Miami Beach.
It was a great place to grow up. I was one of the hotel brats and could work a full switchboard at a very early age.
Most of the people who worked for the hotel were lifers, and it was like one big family. We even lived there for a few months while our house was being renovated (after a flood mishap while the roof was being replaced).
Summers were spent at the pool learning to swim and babysitting guests' children.
Anyway, my mom and the sperm donor didn't work out, and she eventually met my dad. They married, and he adopted me and Joey. By this time, Cathy was gone (she ran away from home at 14 and married a 19-year-old), and my mom and dad's marriage brought a new brother and sister who lived with us off and on for years.
Right about this time, money was tight and my sister and I got to leave Catholic school and move to public schools ~ can I get a hallelujah?
It was a pretty normal childhood.
I did alright in school. I bought my very first car: a Chevy Vega (anyone remember those?)
I had lots of friends and even a boyfriend or two (well, maybe three).
The first boyfriend was the best kind for a young girl ~ gay. No pressure to have sex, he dressed well, liked to go to the mall ~ you get the picture. I ended up dumping him for his best friend. I eventually married the best friend but not before dumping him for another guy who eventually moved to Texas - there is that TX thing again!
I somehow ended up back with the gay guy and again dumped him for his best friend (my ex).
There were a few other boys here and there, but eventually I married just after my 21st birthday.
This takes us up to the end of the 70's, and here is where we end part 1.