| November 29, 2005 - My life as the problem child |
| Dear Friends, when I first started this webpage I told all of you that I would keep it very positive and upbeat with nary a whine or complaint. Well, I'm sorry to break my own rule and I'm sure I'll have to punish myself severely later for the infraction, but frankly I'm goddamned sick and tired of pretending that everything's hunky-dorey. No, Dear Friends, I've not lied to you about anything in the previous pages I've written; I've truly done all the things I've said I've done and I've been all the places I've said I've been, but I must honestly say that it wasn't with the support of those you would think would be most important; namely my family. Picture this....a sunny day...the birds are singing, flowers blooming. A classmate, I'll call him Mike, asks JOHNNYLEEN (who was 8 at the time), "JOHNNYLEEN, I'd like to come to your house and play after school, is that OK"? And JOHNNYLEEN, naive little bitch-nagged twerp that he was, asks, "Is it OK with your mother? My parents wouldn't like it if you came over without permission." And Mike said, "Oh yeah. My mom lets me go to visit wherever I want to." So Mike came home with JOHNNYLEEN. My mom made Kool-Aid for us and we climbed a big tree that had these big pods hanging off it that overlooked our driveway. Well, whatever, when Mike left, boy did I catch Hell! My father came home (apparently Mommie had complained to him) and scolded me, "Why didn't you get permission to bring that kid home with you? Don't you know your mother has too much to do to keep up with you and another kid?" Well, Dear Friends, I was mortified....at the tender age of 8 I had made such huge problems for my family! Frankly, I never realized it was so fuckin' difficult to make a pitcher of Kool-Aid...my bad...But, as later pages I intend to write will reveal, I was nothing but a big pile of trouble from the moment I shot out of the fuckin' womb. You know, Kool-Aid one moment...a decent winter coat the next. Well, it took a while for the next visit of a friend I can assure you, but it wasn't at my house, God forbid. No, Dear Friends, this time it was 2 years later at the house of a classmate of mine in 5th grade. Totally different school, mind you, because my family apparently couldn't stand the thought of me actually having any friends since I went to about a bazillion schools before graduation. Anyway, Steve was the son of one of my mother's high school friends and his mother had suggested to my mother that the two of us should get together one afternoon. Well, you would have thought it was a fucking peace treaty to be signed between the two of them. It went back and forth, and back and forth. Finally I was actually allowed to go over. Well, Steve's mom served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which I absolutely loathed and still despise today. But you know what, Dear Friends, I ate every goddamned bite because I was afraid that Steve's mom would tell my parents I hadn't eaten what she had given me and that I would get the hell beaten out of me (remind me to tell you of the liver pudding episode when I was 12). Oh, and I was never invited back again. I wonder why...maybe it was just too difficult....I'll tell you another time how I got hit by a car 'cause no one could bother driving me somewhere. Oh dear, is it any wonder I've never fit in any where? On that note, I plan to tell you shortly how I got the shit beaten out of me at 7 years old for having eaten a bowl of spinach at a neighbor's house. Trivial you say? Well that was life for JOHNNYLEEN. As I decide to reveal bits and pieces of myself over time (interspersed with frivolity of course), you'll come to know a dark side of JOHNNYLEEN...one that's been waiting to be introduced for a very, very long time. And you know what, I frankly don't give a fuck who it offends :o)) Hope you enjoyed the entry. Keep checking back...I have stories that, if not your admiration, will at least gain me your respect for my having survived. Next page Previous entry Go to diary entries Go back home |