Sunday, March 14, 2010
My Life in Short Story Form - Volume 2
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Thursday, March 11, 2010
My Life in Short Story Form - Volume 1
How many of us have really stopped to think about our childhood and how it defined us as an adult? We all have those stories that we think back on and wonder if that is what made me the person I am today. When I think back on mine, I wonder sometimes how I was not committed for a longer period of time, or ended up being on "America's Most Wanted". So in an effort to avoid the high price of therapy, I've decided to start sharing some of my stories. I will try and keep them coming at a regular basis. And believe me, I have PLENTY of material. Shall we begin?
My First Born
When I was 2 1/2, my mom was pregnant with my sister Andrea. Most kids are excited to have a new edition to the family, and I was no exception. However, I took it to the next level and thought that I was pregnant as well. I would walk around and lift my shirt up to strangers, stick out my little belly and make it move in and out saying it was the "baby" kicking. When it was time for Andrea to be born, my parents bought me a baby doll and gave it to me at the hospital. I was overjoyed!! I found the whole experience of being a new mom incredibly rewarding! However, at one point I decided that just being gifted with my new baby wasn't enough. I really needed to experience the true meaning of having one. So one day I presented myself in front of my family with one of my dads dress shirts on backwards (like a hospital gown) and commanded attention. I announced that I was in labor and with a loud scream, dropped my baby doll from my thighs in which I had been concealing it and gave birth! I am grateful that at 2 1/2, I did not understand the many other ailments that go along with pregnancy. Can you imagine if I would have started complaining about hemorrhoids or stretch marks? I was an excellent mother. I never withheld anything from my little one, which included proper nourishment. Being that it was 1979, and all the modern day baby formulas that are out now, were not in existence, it was not unusual to see my mother breast feed my sister. Babies are hungry all of the time, and mine was no exception. And one day mine became fitful with hunger in the middle of Catholic mass. Any parent knows that keeping a kid quiet during mass is a challenge in itself. Mine kept me quiet by allowing me to bring my baby. I, in turn, had to keep my baby quiet by feeding it. So, while everyone was getting up for communion, I lifted my Sunday's best shirt and revealed my "mosquito bites" of nipples to the Lord and placed my baby doll on to feed. Needless to say, that was the last time my baby accompanied me to church.
My Pet Bunny
I've always had a fascination with anything medical. As an 11 year old, I did a paper on the human heart and met with a professor at Grand Valley State University who introduced me into the world of human anatomy. I was fascinated with the concept of being able to look inside of someone and see all of the inner workings that makes us a one of a kind. I was sadden to later find out that acquiring human organs just to play with was not very easy or legal. I there for had to resort to the next best thing... animal remains. SIDE NOTE: Please, no one from PETA contact me. I was an 11 year old, curious budding scientist and meant no harm. Besides, you guys are f*#king nuts! Back to my story ... My father fancied himself a farmer although he worked as an engineer in the auto industry. We owned chickens, rabbits, cows and sheep. It was not uncommon for us as children to raise our own rabbits, name them, then kill them in the winter to eat for Sunday dinner. I often found my nose being titillated with the wonderful smells from my mother's kitchen and would ask what was cooking. My mother would reply "your rabbit George of course". But I digress. During one particularly cold spell in the winter, one of the baby bunnies got caught in the outside cage and froze to death. I found the eternally "sleeping" bunny in the morning and decided that it would be my first anatomy specimen. I had not yet purchased the required preservative needed to maintain his sleeping appearance, so I placed him in a Zip-Lock bag and tossed him into the freezer. As a child, not only did I have educational ambitions, but I also had an abnormal sense of humor that some people might construe as morbid. For some reason, when visitors would come over, I thought it would be nice to share my new prize with them. However, I decided to ask the unsuspecting person if they would like to see one of our baby bunnies, instead of the dead rodent I had laying next to the frozen corn and peas. I would carefully place the slumbering icicle in my hands and cradle it very gently. Quietly I would walk toward my innocent victim and tell them to be very still because the bunny was sleeping. I would softly pet the my furry popsicle then ask if they would want to hold it. Upon them opening their hands to accept my precious gift, I would take the bunny and throw it at them. This of course caused quite the commotion! The house would erupt with horrid screams! The only sound that broke up this noise, was that of the "bunnysicle" hitting the floor which sounded like a small baseball bouncing up and down on pavement. After the initial shock had worn off, I would then pick up the rabbit and explain to my shocked audience that it was dead and frozen. I would bang it onto the table to reiterate this point. For some reason, no one ever got a laugh out of this stunt besides me.
Later when I entered college, I still found the study of anatomy intriguing and exciting. I took every human anatomy class and cadaver lab I could. I never gained the traditional "freshman 15", however, when I was in the anatomy lab, I would constantly be hungry playing with the muscles. I ate Subway roast beef sandwiches everyday just to calm my carnivore needs. I still wonder to this day, if that urge to eat meat after seeing human muscle makes me a little bit cannibalistic.
My First Born
When I was 2 1/2, my mom was pregnant with my sister Andrea. Most kids are excited to have a new edition to the family, and I was no exception. However, I took it to the next level and thought that I was pregnant as well. I would walk around and lift my shirt up to strangers, stick out my little belly and make it move in and out saying it was the "baby" kicking. When it was time for Andrea to be born, my parents bought me a baby doll and gave it to me at the hospital. I was overjoyed!! I found the whole experience of being a new mom incredibly rewarding! However, at one point I decided that just being gifted with my new baby wasn't enough. I really needed to experience the true meaning of having one. So one day I presented myself in front of my family with one of my dads dress shirts on backwards (like a hospital gown) and commanded attention. I announced that I was in labor and with a loud scream, dropped my baby doll from my thighs in which I had been concealing it and gave birth! I am grateful that at 2 1/2, I did not understand the many other ailments that go along with pregnancy. Can you imagine if I would have started complaining about hemorrhoids or stretch marks? I was an excellent mother. I never withheld anything from my little one, which included proper nourishment. Being that it was 1979, and all the modern day baby formulas that are out now, were not in existence, it was not unusual to see my mother breast feed my sister. Babies are hungry all of the time, and mine was no exception. And one day mine became fitful with hunger in the middle of Catholic mass. Any parent knows that keeping a kid quiet during mass is a challenge in itself. Mine kept me quiet by allowing me to bring my baby. I, in turn, had to keep my baby quiet by feeding it. So, while everyone was getting up for communion, I lifted my Sunday's best shirt and revealed my "mosquito bites" of nipples to the Lord and placed my baby doll on to feed. Needless to say, that was the last time my baby accompanied me to church.
My Pet Bunny
I've always had a fascination with anything medical. As an 11 year old, I did a paper on the human heart and met with a professor at Grand Valley State University who introduced me into the world of human anatomy. I was fascinated with the concept of being able to look inside of someone and see all of the inner workings that makes us a one of a kind. I was sadden to later find out that acquiring human organs just to play with was not very easy or legal. I there for had to resort to the next best thing... animal remains. SIDE NOTE: Please, no one from PETA contact me. I was an 11 year old, curious budding scientist and meant no harm. Besides, you guys are f*#king nuts! Back to my story ... My father fancied himself a farmer although he worked as an engineer in the auto industry. We owned chickens, rabbits, cows and sheep. It was not uncommon for us as children to raise our own rabbits, name them, then kill them in the winter to eat for Sunday dinner. I often found my nose being titillated with the wonderful smells from my mother's kitchen and would ask what was cooking. My mother would reply "your rabbit George of course". But I digress. During one particularly cold spell in the winter, one of the baby bunnies got caught in the outside cage and froze to death. I found the eternally "sleeping" bunny in the morning and decided that it would be my first anatomy specimen. I had not yet purchased the required preservative needed to maintain his sleeping appearance, so I placed him in a Zip-Lock bag and tossed him into the freezer. As a child, not only did I have educational ambitions, but I also had an abnormal sense of humor that some people might construe as morbid. For some reason, when visitors would come over, I thought it would be nice to share my new prize with them. However, I decided to ask the unsuspecting person if they would like to see one of our baby bunnies, instead of the dead rodent I had laying next to the frozen corn and peas. I would carefully place the slumbering icicle in my hands and cradle it very gently. Quietly I would walk toward my innocent victim and tell them to be very still because the bunny was sleeping. I would softly pet the my furry popsicle then ask if they would want to hold it. Upon them opening their hands to accept my precious gift, I would take the bunny and throw it at them. This of course caused quite the commotion! The house would erupt with horrid screams! The only sound that broke up this noise, was that of the "bunnysicle" hitting the floor which sounded like a small baseball bouncing up and down on pavement. After the initial shock had worn off, I would then pick up the rabbit and explain to my shocked audience that it was dead and frozen. I would bang it onto the table to reiterate this point. For some reason, no one ever got a laugh out of this stunt besides me.
Later when I entered college, I still found the study of anatomy intriguing and exciting. I took every human anatomy class and cadaver lab I could. I never gained the traditional "freshman 15", however, when I was in the anatomy lab, I would constantly be hungry playing with the muscles. I ate Subway roast beef sandwiches everyday just to calm my carnivore needs. I still wonder to this day, if that urge to eat meat after seeing human muscle makes me a little bit cannibalistic.
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