Tell Me Your Origin Story
- Thread starter doomdragon6
- Start date
- Status
It means having the better origin story.
M
makare
well I wasn't so much born as distilled.
I gotta tell you, this made me laugh. Out loud.
(Part 2)
Back in Alaska I started school. I've always been a shy person, so I didn't make friends easily. But also got the feeling that kids didn't want to be around me because they knew I was sick. You also have to remember that this was about the time that AIDS was starting to be really noticed by the general public, but most people still didn't really understand the nature of it. So when they heard "blood disease," I think many of the other kids got scared. At age 7 I went to the children's hospital in Seattle with my dad to undergo one final round of tests. They all came back negative and I was declared in complete remission. By age 9 my dad had been transfered to working on the North Slope of Alaska. But he was tired of both working AND living in Alaska. My parents decided it would be better to move back to the Central Valley area of California to be closer to their families. My dad continued all the way until retirement to work two weeks straight on the slope, then come back home for two weeks. Back and forth like that for over 25 years.
Moving to Cali and going to school there was a major culture shock for me. The weather difference was the first big change. It took a long time for me to get use to the extreme heat after living in extreme cold my whole life. I also went from being the only Mexican in school (thus not having to learn Spanish), to half the kids being Mexican and everyone speaking Spanish. I'll admit, I was a big pussy in elementary school. In California I got picked on a lot, but never in fights. By the time I got to 6th grade I learned that if you stepped up to most bullies who tried to act physically, they would back down because they were all pathetic cowards at heart. But despite that, I was a miserable child. I had few friends and I was just full of self-pity and loathing. I never felt good about myself, even though I was one of the smartest kids in school. I was in National Honors Society and was put in the advanced math classes, but I always felt like I was the "stupid" smart kid compared to the other smart kids. But as I got into junior high, I started to gain more confidence. I joined band and began playing baritone saxaphone. I met kids there who would soon become my closest friends, and for the first time I felt like I belonged.
(End of Part 2)
Back in Alaska I started school. I've always been a shy person, so I didn't make friends easily. But also got the feeling that kids didn't want to be around me because they knew I was sick. You also have to remember that this was about the time that AIDS was starting to be really noticed by the general public, but most people still didn't really understand the nature of it. So when they heard "blood disease," I think many of the other kids got scared. At age 7 I went to the children's hospital in Seattle with my dad to undergo one final round of tests. They all came back negative and I was declared in complete remission. By age 9 my dad had been transfered to working on the North Slope of Alaska. But he was tired of both working AND living in Alaska. My parents decided it would be better to move back to the Central Valley area of California to be closer to their families. My dad continued all the way until retirement to work two weeks straight on the slope, then come back home for two weeks. Back and forth like that for over 25 years.
Moving to Cali and going to school there was a major culture shock for me. The weather difference was the first big change. It took a long time for me to get use to the extreme heat after living in extreme cold my whole life. I also went from being the only Mexican in school (thus not having to learn Spanish), to half the kids being Mexican and everyone speaking Spanish. I'll admit, I was a big pussy in elementary school. In California I got picked on a lot, but never in fights. By the time I got to 6th grade I learned that if you stepped up to most bullies who tried to act physically, they would back down because they were all pathetic cowards at heart. But despite that, I was a miserable child. I had few friends and I was just full of self-pity and loathing. I never felt good about myself, even though I was one of the smartest kids in school. I was in National Honors Society and was put in the advanced math classes, but I always felt like I was the "stupid" smart kid compared to the other smart kids. But as I got into junior high, I started to gain more confidence. I joined band and began playing baritone saxaphone. I met kids there who would soon become my closest friends, and for the first time I felt like I belonged.
(End of Part 2)
P
Philosopher B.
Homeschooled by crazy people in the country. Now expect all gunshot noises to be someone shooting at groundhogs.
I was born in Texas, to a professor father and school teacher mother. We moved from there when I was only 3 to South Carolina. So, I've lived here for most of my life. It's been pretty uneventful for the most part. My parents are loving and I got along about as well with my brother & sister as you can expect for siblings. I never had much worry when I was young. Not to say that my parents didn't. I found out only a few years ago that my parents had been taking out loans to get through the summers when I was young. So, we've never been wealthy, but we've always made do. I never went to bed hungry.
I, too, was a shy kid in school. I was pretty timid as well and would avoid all confrontations. It didn't help that my emotions would take over sometimes and I would cry. This, of course, led me to being picked on and being called crybaby, etc. I got control of myself for the most part when we moved out to the suburbs. The story behind that is quite painful to me in a very literal sense. We were living close to downtown, not quite in the city limits, but you could hit it with a rock from there. I went to a pretty run-down school at the time and there were problems with gangs and such. One day during P.E., we were playing volleyball on the concrete courts they had. A point was scored by the other team and the ball bounced out into the gravel parking lot. I chased after it and while doing so, slipped and skinned my leg. I basically wound up doing something akin to a baseball slide on gravel. The outside of my left leg, from almost my ankle to my hip was bloody. I was taken to the hospital to get the wound cleaned and checked, etc. I healed up just fine, but it gave my father a good look at that school. He determined that he was NOT going to let my little sister go there. We moved at the end of the year.
Growing up has opened my eyes about a few things. I have experienced losing family members unexpectedly and also after long, drawn out fights against the likes of cancer. I've also had my grandmother go from being loving and slightly goofy to being a mean and judgmental person. She had simply changed her behavior around myself and my siblings when we were young. Now that we're adults, her true personality has been allowed through. She is the type that will figure out what your greatest insecurity is and needle it relentlessly. She seems to want to be the wise and respected matriarch of the family, but with the rebellious Scottish blood we have, it never worked at all. As a result, it has driven each of her grandkids and even her son, my uncle, to not want to be around her that much. It really is kind of sad.
But on the good side, I am closer to my brother and sister than ever. I can call on them anytime I need to and they can do the same with me. My nephew is 2&1/2 and the only complaint I have with him is that he and my brother & sister-in-law live in Houston, so I can't see them but a few times a year. I now have a job that I love, am building a house, have friends that care about me, and the only issue left is finding the right girl to spend my days with. I'm working on that last one though.
I have a really good life.
I, too, was a shy kid in school. I was pretty timid as well and would avoid all confrontations. It didn't help that my emotions would take over sometimes and I would cry. This, of course, led me to being picked on and being called crybaby, etc. I got control of myself for the most part when we moved out to the suburbs. The story behind that is quite painful to me in a very literal sense. We were living close to downtown, not quite in the city limits, but you could hit it with a rock from there. I went to a pretty run-down school at the time and there were problems with gangs and such. One day during P.E., we were playing volleyball on the concrete courts they had. A point was scored by the other team and the ball bounced out into the gravel parking lot. I chased after it and while doing so, slipped and skinned my leg. I basically wound up doing something akin to a baseball slide on gravel. The outside of my left leg, from almost my ankle to my hip was bloody. I was taken to the hospital to get the wound cleaned and checked, etc. I healed up just fine, but it gave my father a good look at that school. He determined that he was NOT going to let my little sister go there. We moved at the end of the year.
Growing up has opened my eyes about a few things. I have experienced losing family members unexpectedly and also after long, drawn out fights against the likes of cancer. I've also had my grandmother go from being loving and slightly goofy to being a mean and judgmental person. She had simply changed her behavior around myself and my siblings when we were young. Now that we're adults, her true personality has been allowed through. She is the type that will figure out what your greatest insecurity is and needle it relentlessly. She seems to want to be the wise and respected matriarch of the family, but with the rebellious Scottish blood we have, it never worked at all. As a result, it has driven each of her grandkids and even her son, my uncle, to not want to be around her that much. It really is kind of sad.
But on the good side, I am closer to my brother and sister than ever. I can call on them anytime I need to and they can do the same with me. My nephew is 2&1/2 and the only complaint I have with him is that he and my brother & sister-in-law live in Houston, so I can't see them but a few times a year. I now have a job that I love, am building a house, have friends that care about me, and the only issue left is finding the right girl to spend my days with. I'm working on that last one though.
I have a really good life.
doomdragon6
Staff member
All good stories. 
I want some more details on Philosopher B.
I want some more details on Philosopher B.
I want to know what happened to doomdragons 1 though 5!All good stories.
doomdragon6
Staff member
There can be only one. :|
fade
Staff member
Tell me who won the major sports event back then so I can bet on them here!
G
Gagaoohlala
Wow. I am mostly a lurker but thought about actually posting hrere as my life has been pretty interesting so far. So much so, in fact, a good frindof mine since middleschool hs been blogging stories about me for the past 15 or so years and is turning them into a novella. good stuf. But dare I share? Some of you guys/gals are pretty cruel and judgemental. Asking those people to put thier past and feelings and soul out there and then judigng them as is you have never made a mistake,poor judgement,or failed to be the hero you think they should have been becasue you are so so much holier and braver than they?. hmmm......... Is this a place I want to be?
You know, there are dicks everywhere you go in life, even here. The majority are pretty good folks though and would support and enjoy hearing about your life. Plus, if someone's attacks you for sharing about your life please let me or any of the other mods know and we will happily deal with them. 
I am a Phallus .
Then don't post. Jesus. There sure are a lot of pariahs around here. I hate this run around bullshit. If you're intimidated by a bunch of forum assholes, then don't post. Simple as that. Don't go posting whiny messages about how you're afraid to post. North Ranger is just an over sensitive blowhard. He blows up any time you bring up a sensitive topic about him. You're going to have critics about anything you post. I know there are people on this forum who hate my guts; at the same time there are people who are my good friends. Do you think I give two shits about how much someone like North Ranger hates me? Just post your stories and see what happens, otherwise go back to lurking because I hate, hate, hate run around attention games with lurkers.
"I used to like things. That was twenty years ago. The world's changed. I've changed."
fade
Staff member
Jesus said:
Yes.You know, there are dicks everywhere you go in life, even here. The majority are pretty good folks though and would support and enjoy hearing about your life. Plus, if someone's attacks you for sharing about your life please let me or any of the other mods know and we will happily deal with them.
Added at: 10:15
Well, Jesus. What you should have done is kicked those Romans in the nuts with your Christ powers.
I'm questioning if that was a real lurker or not. Reason being the last sentence:
Seems awfully pointed at an issue Dave had in the past where another member, we'll call Mr. Zadwozel, was believed to be making the place an unwelcome forum for new members. So pointed that it makes me wonder if someone is trying to stir up those worries in Dave or admins again.
Added at: 10:18
Yeah, Jesus. Why on Earth didn't you fight back?
Just so you know, I brought back Picard to specifically count how that one visual que changed people's disposition towards me without changing the manner of my posting habits. I'm correlating the posts with and without it together in excel; so far the response has been overwhelmingly hostile despite posting in the same manner. What does that say about the forum? Gangland much? It seems that people see what they want to see from a poster, so in essence blaming one person for the attitude of a forum is pretty moot.
As Mathias, I promised I'd filter out what I say and not simply speak my mind. Well I'm telling you straight out. If someone came up to me and stated that they "might talk about their life with me if I was nice enough to them" I'd tell them to fuck off. I don't have time for mind games.
Added at: 10:27
Added at: 10:29
You know for as much as people want people like me to shut the fuck up in this thread, you guys sure do bring it up a lot. I mean, would I have even respond had Gaga not even mentioned anything and just posted his/her story? Back to my original point: fuck what other people think of you and just post, or shut the fuck up and keep lurking.
As Mathias, I promised I'd filter out what I say and not simply speak my mind. Well I'm telling you straight out. If someone came up to me and stated that they "might talk about their life with me if I was nice enough to them" I'd tell them to fuck off. I don't have time for mind games.
Added at: 10:27
Simple question that Jesus should openly answer if he was thus inclined to share his life story with us.
Added at: 10:29
You know for as much as people want people like me to shut the fuck up in this thread, you guys sure do bring it up a lot. I mean, would I have even respond had Gaga not even mentioned anything and just posted his/her story? Back to my original point: fuck what other people think of you and just post, or shut the fuck up and keep lurking.
People are going to read how they want from text, even if nothing nice or nasty was said either way, and no one person is going to change the attitude of the entire forum made of a few dozen people, but I don't see how the Picard changes anything unless it's subliminal--I didn't even notice he was there until you pointed it out. I doubt many people associate that with the name we dare not say.
So you know what? I might as well go back to being Chazwozel.
*dont worry, I won't. I know that everyone trembles at that name for some reason. Fact is and has always remained that I don't give two shits about what people around here think of me. I'm here to shoot the shit just like everyone else. If what I say offends you then take a number and get in line to pound sand. Now could we just put this to rest and allow people to post in the thread? Or is there anyone else who wants to post about how scared they are of the big bad Chazwozel and shit spiral this thread down further? Honestly, if you people would just fucking let it go and move on.
Don't say that name!
While at first Mathias seemed like Chaz + whining, now that more time has past the difference you intended is clearly visible some of the time. What I think people didn't understand is that your opinions weren't going to change; just the abrasiveness would be held back. For whatever reason, some people see this:
as this:
I don't understand why. When I said I knew the question was coming, all I meant is, I know your opinions on the subject since this discussion's been had on the forum before--I really hope I'm not one who escalated it, because examining page 2 again, it seems as if escalation happened before NR even got to read anything and maybe his response wouldn't have been so heated if not for the rest of us having to throw in our own answer before he got to make his own.
I'll try to keep this brief, but that'll probably not happen.
Born in Oromocto, New Brunswick (about half an hour drive from Fredericton). Moved to Sydney, Nova Scotia when I was 4. My dad was a bank manager there for a number of years before being transferred again to Prince Edward Island. We were in Sydney long enough for me to attend all of elementary school. For PEI, I was there for middle and High School.
To be honest, I wasted a lot of my life. I spent a lot of time indoors, playing video games or watching horror movies or pro-wrestling.When my family got the internet, my addictive personality wound up spending far too much time on it. Still do, honestly.
I started writing in the summer after Grade 2, writing little short stories about Gizmo (from Gremlins). My writing improved slowly over the years, going from Gizmo stories to short horror stories (wherein the names of my bullies in middle school were victims) to superheroes, where I continued to evolve from there to today. I've gone as far as to create my own superhero universe, which I'm still picking at here and there (probably spending too much time world-building and not enough writing). In the last few years, I've had five short stories published in magazines. I've recently completed my first, full-length novel, which I've sent in to a publisher and still waiting to hear back from them.
A lot of my life, I've been struggling with depression. I was officially diagnosed with situational depression when I was 17. At the time, I was barely doing any work in school, not hanging out with my friends and starting to think of ending my life. One time, the principal walked by a classroom and saw me brush a piece of paper off my desk. He called me into the office. I was told I was being expelled because I was a bad influence on the other students. I had to repeat grade 12. What bothers me most about is that, today, things like that would be handled much differently. Mental disabilities and such are handled with at least some modicum of empathy in schools. Back in '96, not so much.
A lot of my depression, I think, stems from being relentlessly bullied in middle school. I was the new kid, a shy geeky kid and an easy target because I never fought back. Not only did I have to put up with it endlessly in school, but on the bus ride home and even at home because a number of fellow students (a bunch of spoiled, middle-class preppy kids...because "middle-class" was basically considered "high-class" in PEI) lived in my neighbourhood. So I could barely even leave the house without being a target. There would be prank phone calls and sometimes even a kid or two that would look through my windows. My best friend at the time (or so I thought) only spent time with me so he could find out all sorts of embarrassing things about me to tell the "cool" kids. When I hit puberty around early grade 7, I had an uncontrollable boner...which didn't help that I wore sweat pants a lot because I hated jeans. I got the nickname "Woody" which still hurts even today (seriously, please don't call me that, even if you think it'd be funny). One of the things that still haunts me today was, while we were watching a video in grade 8, another student across from me kept whispering "You're a loser, Nick. You're always going to be a loser. You're a loser, you're a loser..." over and over. Every time I get depressed, it's his voice that I hear.
I've struggled with depression pretty much all my life. I struggled with it when I was accepted into St. Thomas University in Fredericton. I dropped out after finishing my first year to persue...of all things...wrestling school. I up and moved to Halifax, working shit jobs like dishwashing and at Subway, while waiting to hear when this damn school was going to start. My friends and I all quit when we realized the guy was full of shit.
This was at the end of 1999. Having nothing left in the way of goals and feeling like I had nothing going for me, I had a nervous breakdown. My parents came and got me and I moved back in with them in Fredericton. My girlfriend at the time (High School sweetheart that I'd been with for about 3 years) dumped me for a guy she met over the net. I tried committing suicide in February 2000 by straddling the bridge and thinking of jumping. I spent two weeks in the mental health ward. For a number of years after, I struggled to find myself. I met a girl, who I lived with for about two of our three years together.
While we were together, though, I returned to school, focusing now on an English degree. I met a lot of new, good friends. But depression got in the way again (shortly after me and Ter broke up and I moved out) and I dropped out. I struggled again for a few years, working at Blockbuster Video the whole time. But then I finally said "fuck it" and started taking better care of myself. I started eating better, hitting the gym three times a week and wound up losing 50 pounds.
Around the same time, my old friend Mitch from High School, convinced me to try wrestling school again. He was going to a great one up in Toronto. So, since I wasn't doing anything else but working at Blockbuster, I left the Maritimes for the first time and moved to Toronto with nothing by my cat, my comics and my computer. Wrestling school was...well, it's a long story. Reader's digest version, though: I discovered I have a fear of being lifted up. Which, in pro-wrestling, wouldn't help. So, I went back to what I knew...working at Blockbuster (in Toronto). Another breakdown and I moved back to Fredericton with my parents. BUT, before I left, I applied to York University (Toronto). I was accepted.
After trying to find work all summer in Fr'ton, I moved back to Toronto and managed to (eventually) finish my English degree. It took thirteen fucking years, from when I started it in '97 at St. Thomas. But I finally got it.
Now, I've moved to Preque Isle, Maine because I was accepted to its local university's Elementary Education certificate program. I'm still struggling with depression (and, in fact, going through a bout of it now that's lasted all weekend as of this writing). But I keep hoping maybe something will change that'll make me feel not like a total loser.
Added at: 10:09
Aaaaand, I just caught up on the rest of the thread, as far as the argument is concerned. Fuck, now I'm going to regret going on and on about my depression.
Born in Oromocto, New Brunswick (about half an hour drive from Fredericton). Moved to Sydney, Nova Scotia when I was 4. My dad was a bank manager there for a number of years before being transferred again to Prince Edward Island. We were in Sydney long enough for me to attend all of elementary school. For PEI, I was there for middle and High School.
To be honest, I wasted a lot of my life. I spent a lot of time indoors, playing video games or watching horror movies or pro-wrestling.When my family got the internet, my addictive personality wound up spending far too much time on it. Still do, honestly.
I started writing in the summer after Grade 2, writing little short stories about Gizmo (from Gremlins). My writing improved slowly over the years, going from Gizmo stories to short horror stories (wherein the names of my bullies in middle school were victims) to superheroes, where I continued to evolve from there to today. I've gone as far as to create my own superhero universe, which I'm still picking at here and there (probably spending too much time world-building and not enough writing). In the last few years, I've had five short stories published in magazines. I've recently completed my first, full-length novel, which I've sent in to a publisher and still waiting to hear back from them.
A lot of my life, I've been struggling with depression. I was officially diagnosed with situational depression when I was 17. At the time, I was barely doing any work in school, not hanging out with my friends and starting to think of ending my life. One time, the principal walked by a classroom and saw me brush a piece of paper off my desk. He called me into the office. I was told I was being expelled because I was a bad influence on the other students. I had to repeat grade 12. What bothers me most about is that, today, things like that would be handled much differently. Mental disabilities and such are handled with at least some modicum of empathy in schools. Back in '96, not so much.
A lot of my depression, I think, stems from being relentlessly bullied in middle school. I was the new kid, a shy geeky kid and an easy target because I never fought back. Not only did I have to put up with it endlessly in school, but on the bus ride home and even at home because a number of fellow students (a bunch of spoiled, middle-class preppy kids...because "middle-class" was basically considered "high-class" in PEI) lived in my neighbourhood. So I could barely even leave the house without being a target. There would be prank phone calls and sometimes even a kid or two that would look through my windows. My best friend at the time (or so I thought) only spent time with me so he could find out all sorts of embarrassing things about me to tell the "cool" kids. When I hit puberty around early grade 7, I had an uncontrollable boner...which didn't help that I wore sweat pants a lot because I hated jeans. I got the nickname "Woody" which still hurts even today (seriously, please don't call me that, even if you think it'd be funny). One of the things that still haunts me today was, while we were watching a video in grade 8, another student across from me kept whispering "You're a loser, Nick. You're always going to be a loser. You're a loser, you're a loser..." over and over. Every time I get depressed, it's his voice that I hear.
I've struggled with depression pretty much all my life. I struggled with it when I was accepted into St. Thomas University in Fredericton. I dropped out after finishing my first year to persue...of all things...wrestling school. I up and moved to Halifax, working shit jobs like dishwashing and at Subway, while waiting to hear when this damn school was going to start. My friends and I all quit when we realized the guy was full of shit.
This was at the end of 1999. Having nothing left in the way of goals and feeling like I had nothing going for me, I had a nervous breakdown. My parents came and got me and I moved back in with them in Fredericton. My girlfriend at the time (High School sweetheart that I'd been with for about 3 years) dumped me for a guy she met over the net. I tried committing suicide in February 2000 by straddling the bridge and thinking of jumping. I spent two weeks in the mental health ward. For a number of years after, I struggled to find myself. I met a girl, who I lived with for about two of our three years together.
While we were together, though, I returned to school, focusing now on an English degree. I met a lot of new, good friends. But depression got in the way again (shortly after me and Ter broke up and I moved out) and I dropped out. I struggled again for a few years, working at Blockbuster Video the whole time. But then I finally said "fuck it" and started taking better care of myself. I started eating better, hitting the gym three times a week and wound up losing 50 pounds.
Around the same time, my old friend Mitch from High School, convinced me to try wrestling school again. He was going to a great one up in Toronto. So, since I wasn't doing anything else but working at Blockbuster, I left the Maritimes for the first time and moved to Toronto with nothing by my cat, my comics and my computer. Wrestling school was...well, it's a long story. Reader's digest version, though: I discovered I have a fear of being lifted up. Which, in pro-wrestling, wouldn't help. So, I went back to what I knew...working at Blockbuster (in Toronto). Another breakdown and I moved back to Fredericton with my parents. BUT, before I left, I applied to York University (Toronto). I was accepted.
After trying to find work all summer in Fr'ton, I moved back to Toronto and managed to (eventually) finish my English degree. It took thirteen fucking years, from when I started it in '97 at St. Thomas. But I finally got it.
Now, I've moved to Preque Isle, Maine because I was accepted to its local university's Elementary Education certificate program. I'm still struggling with depression (and, in fact, going through a bout of it now that's lasted all weekend as of this writing). But I keep hoping maybe something will change that'll make me feel not like a total loser.
Added at: 10:09
Aaaaand, I just caught up on the rest of the thread, as far as the argument is concerned. Fuck, now I'm going to regret going on and on about my depression.
doomdragon6
Staff member
Jeeze, a lot of us come from hard knocks.
Not me. My story is still boring. :|
Also, you ever notice that you never meet anyone who did the bullying? Everyone you talk to was always the person bullied.
Not me. My story is still boring. :|
Also, you ever notice that you never meet anyone who did the bullying? Everyone you talk to was always the person bullied.
M
makare
Well I think people generally remember times that someone made their life difficult not times they made other's lives difficult. Also, the person who is bullied gets to decide if it is bullying or not because the other person might think that it is either not bullying behavior or that it is so justified that it isn't bullying anyway.
I'd love to run into some of the guys that used to bully me. Male pattern baldness is...what? One out of three? So, one out of three bullies would be balding by now. So I'd love to go up to them and say, "Hey guess what? *plays with his hair* Ahhhhh!"
We're on a forum full of geeks. Chances of people who were bullied as opposed to being bullies themselves is greater. I've actually found that those of the more geeky caliber are far less accepting and defensive towards those they deem "outsiders" vs. other groups and types of people. I remember being ostracized on a couple of occasions by people in science clubs and fairs because heaven forbid I also played sports. That nerds vs. jocks stereotype is far more reinforced by the geeks than the other way around.
I'd say my bullying experience was about average to that of everyone in the regular population. I can think of times that I was bullied and I can think of times that, yes, I've reduced people to tears on many occasions myself. Kids and teenagers can be cruel assholes. From my experience that's all a part of growing up though.
Despite what many people think. Those evil bullies do grow up to be normal people, just like you. I find grudges against them by the victims interesting. I'm pretty sure those bullies have moved on while, as indicated by some *ahem* stories, the hurt they caused is still there.
fade
Staff member
I'll er.. "nut up".
I was born in a city in SC, and moved to a really rural area at 4. I remember bits and pieces of the city, but they look like Super 8. So I'm not sure if it's just things I'm remembering from movies and photos I saw later.
I won't lie to you, I had a fairly normal, easy life compared to what I read on here. We never had any money, but I wouldn't call us poor. I didn't have new clothes. I didn't have a car or even a car license in high school. Then again, being of redneck stock, I learned to drive sans license by the age of 10, and I did get a motorcycle and license for that in high school. I made good grades, and established myself as top of my class. But otherwise, normal red-blooded rural American kid until 5th grade. Then I got glasses around the same time the Nerds movies were out, which established me as a nerd. I never really cared, though. Every now and then, but sometimes being uninterested in social activity has its advantages. I always equally hated the nerd clique and the rest of the cliques. Which meant I ate alone. The nerds seemed like a bunch of weak-backed whiners, and the rest were too interested in stupid pop-culture stuff.
Parents were a nurse-turned-librarian and a mechanic/everything else. My dad did make me do a lot of work when I was a kid because he was always trying to start a new business. It's been really useful, though. I DIY most repairs now, and I do appreciate the practice. Hated my mom most of my childhood. Still don't get along the greatest. The only bad thing that ever really happened when I was a kid was overhearing my mom tell my dad that I was possibly the product of forced sex once when they were arguing and I was 10 or so. That shit'll mess you up.
My public school was surprisingly good. I had very passionate teachers. I disliked most of my classmates, which again made it perfectly fine with me that they didn't want much to do with me. I did like the teachers, though. Especially Ms. Kelley, who got her BA and MA from Oxford, yet returned to my rural town to teach English. She really opened my eyes, and showed me the back side of the pages. I read every single book in the school library (no exaggeration. Imagine the jaw-dropping caused by a 4th grade boy reading "Are you there God, it's me Margaret"), and most of the public library books by graduation. I feel guilty about stealing books from the book fair because I didn't have any money.
I grew up in the woods, and I loved it. I built quite a few structures on our land, and a lot of them are still there. Mostly out of stolen junk. I used to climb trees as high as I could, and imagine the tree tops were a green ocean and the distant house ships. I was fascinated by anything man-made, since I didn't see much of it living on a country dirt road.
In high school, I became a bit more interested in social things. Especially girls. I did the best-friend-with-the-girl-I-secretly-was-in-love-with bit. I did man up and tell her, though, at graduation. She came around the corner of the building with me, and I told her, and she said she wished I'd told her sooner. I remember better than almost anything in my life the windy day, driving away in the back of my parent's station wagon, watching her with the white dress blowing to the side through the wiper-streaked dirty black glass. I still talk to her all the time, but there was a definite finality in that moment. There were some girls that expressed interest in me, but being infatuated, I didn't care for their advances.
I was an accomplished athlete and scholar in high school. No brag. That's the way it was. I was salutatorian, which pissed me off, because I'd taken much more difficult classes than the valedictorian. I gave a speech at graduation that I still think was some of my best writing, but no one clapped. Not one. I think it's because the valedictorian named her speech "to be continued", so in the program, it looked like she was continuing the speech. I went to college on a full scholarship, and rejected an athletic scholarship from the same college, because frankly I was done with it, and I didn't want to be typecast as a jock.
First year was okay. Girl stuff and a little soul-searching the second year dropped my GPA. Totally changed my look at this point by growing my hair and getting contacts. Met my wife between 2nd and 3rd year, and finished up with 4.0 final 2 years, but the damage was done, so no honors. Still enough to get me into grad school with an assistantship, esp. with 99%tile GRE scores. Got a Ph.D. in geophysics, which required some remedial work, since my majors were anthropology and geology as an undergrad. Became a post-doc and professor in Electrical Engineering (which is actually quite close to my geophysics specialty, so it's not that weird). Became a professor in geology, but realized that geology students couldn't do geophysics, so my career was suffering, so I left for private industry about 2.5 months ago. Ultimately would like to become a prof again, but I will certainly make sure the university is the right kind next time.
In personal life, I've been married 13 years, two kids, expertise in two martial arts, still stay in shape, and still incredibly cynical. Wife and students have all compare me to Dexter, if you're looking for how I act in real life. Not sure if that's an insult or not. Super power gained from this origin story is super-cynicism, and the ability to learn nearly any skill in very short order. Sorry if this all seems like bragging, but I don't mean it as such. Just the facts, as requested. Sorry there weren't more terrible things to report.
I was born in a city in SC, and moved to a really rural area at 4. I remember bits and pieces of the city, but they look like Super 8. So I'm not sure if it's just things I'm remembering from movies and photos I saw later.
I won't lie to you, I had a fairly normal, easy life compared to what I read on here. We never had any money, but I wouldn't call us poor. I didn't have new clothes. I didn't have a car or even a car license in high school. Then again, being of redneck stock, I learned to drive sans license by the age of 10, and I did get a motorcycle and license for that in high school. I made good grades, and established myself as top of my class. But otherwise, normal red-blooded rural American kid until 5th grade. Then I got glasses around the same time the Nerds movies were out, which established me as a nerd. I never really cared, though. Every now and then, but sometimes being uninterested in social activity has its advantages. I always equally hated the nerd clique and the rest of the cliques. Which meant I ate alone. The nerds seemed like a bunch of weak-backed whiners, and the rest were too interested in stupid pop-culture stuff.
Parents were a nurse-turned-librarian and a mechanic/everything else. My dad did make me do a lot of work when I was a kid because he was always trying to start a new business. It's been really useful, though. I DIY most repairs now, and I do appreciate the practice. Hated my mom most of my childhood. Still don't get along the greatest. The only bad thing that ever really happened when I was a kid was overhearing my mom tell my dad that I was possibly the product of forced sex once when they were arguing and I was 10 or so. That shit'll mess you up.
My public school was surprisingly good. I had very passionate teachers. I disliked most of my classmates, which again made it perfectly fine with me that they didn't want much to do with me. I did like the teachers, though. Especially Ms. Kelley, who got her BA and MA from Oxford, yet returned to my rural town to teach English. She really opened my eyes, and showed me the back side of the pages. I read every single book in the school library (no exaggeration. Imagine the jaw-dropping caused by a 4th grade boy reading "Are you there God, it's me Margaret"), and most of the public library books by graduation. I feel guilty about stealing books from the book fair because I didn't have any money.
I grew up in the woods, and I loved it. I built quite a few structures on our land, and a lot of them are still there. Mostly out of stolen junk. I used to climb trees as high as I could, and imagine the tree tops were a green ocean and the distant house ships. I was fascinated by anything man-made, since I didn't see much of it living on a country dirt road.
In high school, I became a bit more interested in social things. Especially girls. I did the best-friend-with-the-girl-I-secretly-was-in-love-with bit. I did man up and tell her, though, at graduation. She came around the corner of the building with me, and I told her, and she said she wished I'd told her sooner. I remember better than almost anything in my life the windy day, driving away in the back of my parent's station wagon, watching her with the white dress blowing to the side through the wiper-streaked dirty black glass. I still talk to her all the time, but there was a definite finality in that moment. There were some girls that expressed interest in me, but being infatuated, I didn't care for their advances.
I was an accomplished athlete and scholar in high school. No brag. That's the way it was. I was salutatorian, which pissed me off, because I'd taken much more difficult classes than the valedictorian. I gave a speech at graduation that I still think was some of my best writing, but no one clapped. Not one. I think it's because the valedictorian named her speech "to be continued", so in the program, it looked like she was continuing the speech. I went to college on a full scholarship, and rejected an athletic scholarship from the same college, because frankly I was done with it, and I didn't want to be typecast as a jock.
First year was okay. Girl stuff and a little soul-searching the second year dropped my GPA. Totally changed my look at this point by growing my hair and getting contacts. Met my wife between 2nd and 3rd year, and finished up with 4.0 final 2 years, but the damage was done, so no honors. Still enough to get me into grad school with an assistantship, esp. with 99%tile GRE scores. Got a Ph.D. in geophysics, which required some remedial work, since my majors were anthropology and geology as an undergrad. Became a post-doc and professor in Electrical Engineering (which is actually quite close to my geophysics specialty, so it's not that weird). Became a professor in geology, but realized that geology students couldn't do geophysics, so my career was suffering, so I left for private industry about 2.5 months ago. Ultimately would like to become a prof again, but I will certainly make sure the university is the right kind next time.
In personal life, I've been married 13 years, two kids, expertise in two martial arts, still stay in shape, and still incredibly cynical. Wife and students have all compare me to Dexter, if you're looking for how I act in real life. Not sure if that's an insult or not. Super power gained from this origin story is super-cynicism, and the ability to learn nearly any skill in very short order. Sorry if this all seems like bragging, but I don't mean it as such. Just the facts, as requested. Sorry there weren't more terrible things to report.
Maybe I'll write a longer version later but the long and short of it is that I've lived a pretty charmed life and the only real adversity I've ever had to put up with is the perennial insecurity that everyone I love is secretly humouring me, and the crushing ennui of a middle class white North American upbringing.
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