repost: the story of me.

this appeared on my myspace blog last year, on this momentus day.

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in honor of my 29th birthday, i will tell you about me:

i was born in bethlehem, the son of a carpenter and a virgin. i was a priveleged child, as many believed i was conceived by the holiest of all creatures. we're talking about g-o-d. yup, dat's my daddy.

just kidding.

i was born in nj, home of bruce springsteen, frank sinatra, whitney houston, queen latifah, michael douglas, jon bon jovi, jerry lewis, linda tripp, meryl streep, kelly ripa, shaq, robert blake, jack nicholson, kevin smith, frankie muniz, tara reid, abbott and costello, and the list goes on...what i am trying to say is that i come from a state where a lot of losers live. aww, sad. but i love new jersey. it's my roots. not like the movie roots, but you know what i mean.

growing up, i loved to ride my bike and play outside games like kickball, wiffle ball, freeze tag and kick the can with the neighborhood kids. i had two best friends--they were both a year older than me. so they went to kindergarten a year before me. i cried for days when everyone would go to school and i wasn't allowed. that's when i became addicted to drugs. (not really, but i wish i could make this more dramatic)

when i made it to school, i was the over-sized, awkward kid who was basically a year older than the whole class. i might have been been taller than my teacher. with a deeper voice. i was a creative kid-i loved to draw and paint. one day in kindergarten, i was drawing with craypas (is that how you spell it?). i think it was dress up day for school pictures, so my mom put me in white pants and an izod shirt--oh yes, preppy was my style. sort of like blaine in pretty in pink, only i was 5 years old. so i got all into my creative side and wiped the colors allll over my pants. i was into my art. when i looked down and saw the mess i had made, i cried. then i turned to alcohol. (again, drama)

by middle school, i was the gangliest, goofiest child you might have ever seen. i had braces, giant glasses (my cheeks could see too), and a "surfer" cut (shaved on the bottom, long on top--maybe like a reverse mullet?). i was still into sports back then. i played soccer, baseball and basketball. little did you all know, but i was an all star and mvp basketball player in my day (not really saying much). i would get so into the game that my glasses would fling off of my face and i'd go blind. the ref would have to stop the game and pick my broken glasses up. then i'd have to sit out the rest of the game and go home to glue them together. i was hot, stylish and athletic.

by the end of middle school, it was time to choose where i would go to high school. all of my classmates were going to the public high school. but my parents decided that i needed to go to cathloic high school. the public school had a rough reputation and i was obviously not cut out for that--i could show you some serious moves on the court or on the dancefloor, but i am no good with knives. or even my fists. so i parted ways with all of the friends i had made over the past 9 years and went my own way--in polyster pants, a synthetic sweater and a white shirt and mickey mouse tie.

i wouldn't say i was a real "go getter" in high school, but i held my own. i made good grades, but i didn't make out much. poor slob. i might have had 2 or 3 girlfriends? all total weirdos, but hey, that's life. but i did make the best friends ever. and they were mostly girls. weird? i remember how i made friends with teresa--we rode the bus together. she was the awkward, lanky girl who didn't talk to anyone. i thought she was a snob. and she probably felt the same way about me. i think we started talking when they put a camera on our bus--i think we came from the rough part of town. all of the kids were psycho and would throw stuff out the windows and scream. so teresa and i tried to make friends with the bus driver--i don't know, maybe we though she would protect us? she would never tell us her name. she was a very manly woman. short blonde hair, flannels, tight jeans, a constant cigarrette in her mouth. when we asked her name, she said, "call me bitch." no lie. we laughed and called her bitch. from that day forward (until teresa started driving her amazing station wagon to school), we sat right behind her and sat quietly, staring at the bus camera with our mouths open. i wish i could get my hands on those tapes today. people must've thought we were "special" or just on something.

teresa and i ended up going to college together. that was a fun time. although we shared a lot of friends, we had separate friends and always could hang out with each other and our friends. but college was weird for me. i joined a fraternity? what the hell? sounds strange, i know, but it was a lot of fun. and i made some great friends. and drank a lot of alcohol.

i have to stop the story here. i am sure that if you are reading this, you are happy. and you know what, i am not going to go back and read this--if there are typos, you will have to deal with it.

we'll pick up part 2 later on in the day, or maybe even tomorrow.

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i never did pick up on part two. maybe i will get motivated and do that this year.