That Time I Turned 25 & Assaulted Someone

So remember a while back when I said that I would post about my 25th birthday that occurred in July? Well, now it's finally time to make that happen.

To start off with, I woke up to a bazillion Facebook notifications from people that don't normally talk to me, as is their wont. Then Madison came over & gave me these awesome shoes.

My feet aren't actually that big.

Then we went to the place where we get our piercings done. She got the back of her neck pierced for the 3rd time (long story) & I finally got an industrial piercing like I've wanted for an eternity.

Success!

After that, I had dinner with my small group from church. That was pretty uneventful, as was the barhopping afterwards. I was photographed all sweaty & gross with Katie.

Gross!

After we took that picture, Katie & I went downstairs to get some more drinks & unfortunately missed this redneck girl giving some guy a lap dance. My church friends decided that it was time to hightail it out of there, so off we went. Then this guy from my group, Brad (who was really drunk) became very belligerent & yelling at passersby (on top of making a lot of sexist & misogynistic comments). I was trying to calm him down & get him to shut up. Eventually he left (drunk. We tried to stop him but he wouldn't not).

But Brad isn't done! You see, he had seen Madison on my Facebook & had been messaging her. I'm not going to lie, I'm kind of terrible at being able to tell whether or not people are a good fit for one another, so I just told her to give him a chance; however, she was already grossed out by him before they met because of some of the texts he had sent. Anyway, the night after my birthday I had a party with the people from work & anyone else who wanted to come. Well, since Madison was going to be there Brad wanted to be there as well. He showed up at the restaurant & would hardly talk to anyone. And when he did, he was incredibly judgmental & kind of an ass. Now, I'm not going to say that any of the rest of us handled the situation very well, but needless to say he left before the party resumed at my place.

Once we got to my place, everyone proceeded to drink a bit. I was good for a while, until close to the end when people were starting to leave & that asshole Sam got me to start doing shots (I never do shots). After having had about 4 beers previously, the 4 to 5 Malibu shots kind of sent me over the edge.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, when I get really...drinky...I begin shedding clothes. First was my shirt...

That's Kristin. She's important in a minute.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending...) there are no pictures of me once I got into my underwear. Anyway, for some reason or another I went up to my room & as I was coming back down the stairs I fell. Luckily I didn't go head over ass or anything like that. I just fell & kind of...slid down. Anyway, when I reached the bottom, Kristin, who was also not in her most lucid mind, threw a cookie at me. This cookie hit me in the mouth & gosh darn it, it hurt! I wasn't going to stand for that so I chucked my phone at her. Surprisingly, drunk me has better aim than sober me because the next thing I see is Kristin's head flying back as my phone made contact with her face.

As was seen in one of the first pictures on here, my phone is really big (a Droid). This next picture is the aftermath...

Kristin, with ice on her lip & blood on the floor next to her, waving at the camera.

After that, I called it a night & went upstairs. Then the stomachy feeling started & I took my pillow & a blanket in with me to the bathroom, where I proceeded to puke off & on for about an hour, all the while having "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse stuck in my head. I was upset about her dying earlier that day, so having that particular song & her dead voice stuck in my head while I was already sick just made it worse.

After that, I realized that I needed to get my shit together. I've only been really drunk once since then, but I've made a concerted effort to cut back on the drinking. I'm 25 years old & don't need to be throwing shit at people.

Where I Was

This title has two meanings.

The first is in regards to why I haven't posted or commented in almost 2 weeks. I honestly just haven't had much of anything to talk about. On top of all of that I've been ridiculously overwhelmed by school. In fact, I'm currently in Virginia until Friday because I have to do in-class training for a class I already took in Florida. But they wouldn't take the credit. I'm not bitter.

But anyway, that is something of a segue because the next part of this post is about 9/11. Because of course.

It's kind of funny because exactly 10 years ago today I was in Virginia on a family vacation with my parents. In fact, it was one of our last vacations we ever took. Not because my parents divorced or one of them died. No, we just never went on vacations. But that's another post entirely.

ANYway. My story about 9/11.

I was 15 & still home schooled. My parents & I had gone to Williamsburg because I was a nerd, loved history, & loved seeing underpaid actors dressed in humiliating outfits even more. Our plan was to just do the Colonial Williamsburg thing for most of the week. My dad & I might go to Busch Gardens at some point. And on September 12? Oh, on September 12 we were going to go to Washington D.C. 

On that fateful morning, I woke up at exactly at 9:00am. My first thought? "Oh! 'Regis & Kelly' is on!". So I turned on the TV to see what wacky hijinks those two were getting themselves into that day. Only when I turned the TV on...it was Bryant Gumble talking & they were showing video from New York of some buildings smoking. What the hell? I went into my parents' room where they were watching HGTV & told them to turn on the news. Then we all just watched the rest of everything happen in complete shock. After both of the buildings had fallen & things had sort of calmed down my parents decided to go to Colonial Williamsburg (I think they were trying to protect me in case something else happened) where my mother was in tears a few times when she saw patriotic things.

As the week progressed, I became more & more irritated. Those terrorists were so selfish, ruining my vacation. I almost threw up one night while watching the news & they showed a video of people falling out of the Towers. Disgusting. It's still imprinted on my brain.

And I still haven't been to Washington D.C.

Uncle Harold Died

A few weeks ago I got a text from my mother that my great-Uncle Harold had died.

I was quite surprised, seeing as the last time I saw him he seemed totally fine. I've kind of always thought he was a turd & a half, but still...dying sucks.

My mind immediately went back to the last time I saw him, which was a little over a month ago at a family reunion. We didn't speak, of course. That's par for the course for us. We spoke a little bit back in March when we were all dealing with my grandfather dying. But that isn't the norm. I'm not one to hold a grudge generally, especially if the slight wasn't directed at me, but he really screwed my dad over. Back in 1999-2000, my dad was the music minister at the church he grew up in (still attended by my grandparents & other assorted relatives). But Uncle Harold had my father, who was his nephew, removed from the position. I'm not sure of the reason, other than he was trying to get control of the church. And guess what: he ran that church right into the ground. It's now one of those black churches with four different names in the title like Father of Grace Deliverance Tabernacle or some shit.

Ahem. As I was saying, I don't generally hold a grudge but that really pissed me off. You just don't do that to family. At least not to close family. But after that whenever I'm around him I keep my distance. But unfortunately at the last family reunion in June I couldn't avoid him due to the circumstances. I had taken a leak & as I was exiting the stall, Uncle Harold was coming in. We didn't speak. I saw him sit down on the toilet. I washed my hands super quickly & ran out of the bathroom. And that was the last memory I would ever have of my beloved Uncle Harold.

That is until my mom texted me back & told me it was actually my great-Uncle Harold on her side of the family. False alarm!

Great-Grandfather? You ARE The Father!

So this is one of the posts I was going to do a month ago but didn't. I figure now is as good a time as any to get write it.

Back in January, I had stopped by Aunt Norah's (as you know, not her name) house to drop off some tea I get from work that she likes. We were just sitting in her living room talking about our family & stuff that happened before I was born, when she mentioned Donna (not her name). "Who is Donna?" I asked. "Oh, you haven't heard?" replied Norah. Of course I hadn't heard. My parents & I are almost always the last people in our family to hear about anything. But as it turns out, most of us didn't know. And what didn't we know? This....

My great grandfather (the father of my grandfather that just died) was apparently loose. There was already speculation back in the day that he fathered one child out of wedlock (who for some reason was already part of the family & grew up with my dad & his siblings. While it was never proven, it was heavily assumed because of rumors & the way she looked. I have no idea who this lady is, which isn't surprising because we have a tremendous family.

Anyway, a few years ago this new woman (Donna) approached my grandparents & told them that she thought she was the half-sister of my grandfather. D'oh! She was no stranger to them, having been a regular at the restaurant where my grandmother used to waitress. They only said something to a few of our family members, & surprisingly were able to keep it all pretty hush-hush (those people can't not gossip. Even if it's about themselves). Anyway, Donna's possible-half-brother Edward (not his name) wanted nothing to do with her because he was a turd & holier than thou. But he died a few years ago & she's slowly been feeling more comfortable.

Anyway, I went to see my parents (this was when I still lived with Skidmark & was making almost daily visits back to Rocky Mount for my safety) & asked my mother about Maybe-Great-Aunt Donna. She had no idea what I was talking about, & immediately texted my father, who responded with, "WHAT?!" So there was that. Later that night, my father called Norah, who gave him Donna's contact information. My parents then met with Donna & her husband, & encouraged her to get a paternity test & become more involved with everyone.

Then all of the crap happened with my grandfather. The second day I was at the hospital the week his lung collapsed, I went into the waiting room & was shortly joined by a lady I had never seen. I figured she was a friend of the family or some relative I had never met (or hadn't seen since I was little). Well, it turns out it was Maybe-Half-Great-Aunt Donna. Well, hey there! She asked me some question & we figured out we were there for the same people, & we both got really excited when we realized who the other person was. After reuniting with my grandmother, I got to witness the introduction of Maybe-Half-Great-Aunt Donna with her maybe-half-sister Lucille (not her name). They got along famously, & they even look similar. Then some of my cousins began trickling in. In a funny turn of events, the ones that came to visit had never heard of Maybe-Half-Great-Aunt Donna (which made me feel awesome for knowing something before them). It was really funny to watch their faces as they realized what was happening.

There was some awkwardness, though (because of course). One of the things I haven't mentioned was that Donna is literally half a month older than my dad. So she is the same age as one of her nephews. Yup! Another awkward moment was when she hugged my cousin Maria (not her name, duh) & told her she was sorry about her mother. Maria's mom (my aunt Mary [her real name, because she's dead]) was murdered in 1986. I found out at this point that Donna had known since the 70's that she might be part of our family but just learned about us through other channels. I also learned that my great-grandfather was a cop, to which I said, "Well, obviously he did a whole lot of serving & not a lot of protecting" (only Maria heard me. She laughed but it was still awkward if you understand what the meaning behind it was).

Since then, I only saw Donna one more time at the hospital right before my grandfather died. She was in his room with my grandmother, & she was saying her goodbye. It was really tough on her because she had finally started to get the family she'd always wanted & now her possible-brother was sedated & on a ventilator. She was trying not to cry, & told me after we left that what kept her strong in there was seeing me since I had been so supportive of her the other day. I also had noticed when she was about to start crying & gave her tissues.

Apparently she was at the visitation & funeral, but I didn't see her. She wasn't at the burial. But the next week, after everything that had happened, the paternity results came back.

Maybe-Half-Great-Aunt Donna was officially Half-Great-Aunt Donna. Holla, Half-Great-Aunt Donna!

And that's how I inadvertently gave us a new family member, just because I asked some questions & got a ball rolling.

What Happened A Few Weeks Ago

So I know I've already said what happened 2 1/2 weeks ago, but now comes the time when I actually blog about it.

My grandfather died.

Despite us not being close, I was still sad. Watching someone you've grown up with disintegrate like that...it's tough. Here is what happened....

Papa had been in really crappy health for a while. Having been a smoker since he was 7, he eventually had to quit a few years ago because of his emphysema. He also was prone to strokes & aneurysms. A few years ago the doctors thought he may have lung cancer, so they did some biopsies. This routine continued for a few years: maybe cancer! Oh wait! No, it's just scar tissue!

In September, it came back as being 100% positive that he had lung cancer. None of us knew really what was going to happen as far as treatment or prognosis, so all bazillion of us in our family tried to just be around as much as we could (give or take a few).

Then, in January, he decided to have a surgery that was not highly recommended. In fact, the survival rate was only about 10%, given his current state of health. But that dipshit went ahead & had it done. You can pretty much tell where this is going.

He did survive the surgery. Oh yeah guess what else: IT WASN'T CANCER! Lovely. Anyway, he was resting up at Duke for a few weeks. I even went & saw him, which is more than any of his 9 other grandchildren did during this time (granted, most of them live over an hour away & the majority of them are married, have kids, or are druggies with no mode of transportation). He seemed really out of it, & he looked like complete crap. Which is expected, being in the hospital & everything. While I was there visiting, the doctor even said that he could be sent to a nursing home by their house for his rehabilitation process! Joy!

However, while at the nursing home, his chest tubes wouldn't drain. His food would also go down his windpipe, so he had to get put on a feeding tube. Eventually, he had to go back to Duke. A few days after being released from Duke, his lung collapsed at home. My grandmother called my aunt, uncle, & cousin who live on the same property to come over, & then called 911. He coded in the ambulance but was revived by the time he got to the hospital. Once there, he was sedated & heavily drugged.

The day after that was when I came into the picture again. I had a few days off from work so I went home. I practically lived at the hospital, being there almost as much as my grandmother (who wouldn't leave). This whole time he was sedated, but supposedly could still hear us. This whole thing became somewhat of a family reunion for everyone, as family emergencies are prone to do. Aside from a few people (grandmother, aunt) we all knew what was going to eventually happen. As I told my mother when I headed back to Cary, "See you in a few days."

And I was right. That Sunday the doctor met with my parents & all of my dad's siblings & their spouses. That was when it was confirmed that my grandmother was going to have to make the call when to take the ventilator out because he could not stay as he was. I came back that day & just hung around the hospital & drove around with some of my cousins. Monday was basically the same. However, Monday night was bad for him & my grandmother decided to have the ventilator taken out Tuesday evening, so everyone could be there.

My family is huge, so we completely overtook the waiting room. Everyone was really anxious, but still in good spirits. The doctor said that it would only take a few minutes, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. It took forever. To the point where it seemed like he may bounce back & my grandmother started getting excited (it was so painful to watch). Everyone left except for my grandmother, my cousin Joey (not his name), & me because it was getting so late.

Eventually we tried to sleep, & then around 3:30am there was a call to the waiting room & my grandmother hurried up to the ICU. I followed a few minutes later, not wanting her to be by herself. The nurse told me that it probably wouldn't take much longer, so I called Joey & my parents (who live close to the hospital). Joey called his mom, too. The two of us went into the room with my grandmother & we all cried & held hands. My parents showed up so I stepped out because I was so emotionally drained. A little while later Joey's mom came, too. A few hours later my mother left for work (she took a half-day) & Joey & I got some breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Then we tried to sleep again, which was fail. Around 9 I had to peace out because my body was going numb. I passed my mom going into the hospital as I was leaving, & wished her luck. Two hours later she called me to tell me that he had died.

I'm not going to lie: I was kind of pissed that I hung out at the hospital all that time & he waits to die when I'm gone. Asshole.

My dad (who had already started planning the funeral with his only responsible sibling, Aunt Norah [not her name], her husband Tom [not his name], & my mother) got everything rocking & rolling. My cousin Amber (not her name) & I went through pictures to make a slideshow. A slideshow I basically got no credit for because while I found most of the pictures, Amber scanned them & put them on the disc. Whatever. It was still fun. I'm going to post them all later.

Overall, the service was crap. There was Southern gospel sung by some of my relatives. There was the pastor barely being able to make it through a complete sentence without stumbling over his words. There was also the pastor turning the funeral into a plea for everyone to accept Jesus into their hearts not just so they can spend eternity with God, but to do it so you can see my grandfather again. I am serious. He also said that babies cry when they're born because they see what kind of world we live in & want nothing to do with it. I say it is because they're naked, cold, & have a bunch of people pulling on them. I'm right.

I was a pallbearer with 5 of my other male cousins (there are actually 7 of us but 1 was in the process of moving back from Florida & couldn't make it) & let me just say that that junk is HEAVY. After the mausoleum portion, we went to my grandparent's church (where we have all of our Thanksgiving family reunions) & had a very nice meal where everything had pork in it. Because we are Southern & Everything Must Have Pork.

P.S. I don't eat pork.

I went back to Cary that day but on the way there I went to see my grandmother (she lives on the way). She was there alone & just seems lost. We just sat there & talked a while, & it was nice. Eventually my parents, Uncle Rob (not his name), Aunt Norah & her husband, Aunt Norah's first husband, & Joey all came by. A few hours later I left & just relaxed at my place.

Everything is back to normal, basically. My mother said that my grandmother is really lonely & doesn't want to change the sheets because they smell like my grandfather. It's going to take time, but she's a resilient old bird & has a bazillion people who will be there for her. My father, on the other hand, hasn't cried once. He wasn't close to my grandfather either & seems to be compartmentalizing. So my mother & I are kind of waiting to see what will happen with that.

Sorry this was such a long post. There was so much to say, & I just didn't feel like dealing with it right after it happened. Also, sorry about any typos. Don't feel like proof-reading.

P.S. I didn't include the part where my parents (& to a degree Aunt Norah) got in a fight with one of my cousins because it's really stupid. Like so stupid that I didn't realize it was a real fight for a little bit despite the fact that I was standing there for almost the whole thing.

P.P.S. I also forgot to include where one of my uncles showed up to the funeral drunk. He didn't act it, but you could smell it.

New Posts Are Coming

Remember back in the day when I posted on here semi-regularly? Well, those days are coming because my current situation is about to be over.

I seriously have so much to write about that I'm expecting to do about 3 or 4 in a row.

Wall Post

Everyone is writing on the Wall of that guy that passed, so I decided to write on it too. I'm sure one (or many) of his many followers will de-friend or flame me, but whatever. I felt like it needed to be said. What do you guys think?

Hmmm...

Am I Terrible?

I should be working on that horrid assignment but whatever. I've checked out. Instead, I have something more important to talk about.

This guy from my college died either this morning or last night. He had been fighting with cancer for about a year or so. The thing is....

I don't feel anything.

We were in the same social circle for most of the time we were in college together (2 years), but never really clicked. He always treated me like I was stupid because I didn't enjoy studying things like philosophy & politics. When I talked to him once about some of my doubts about myself & Christianity, he kept trying to get me to leave the school right then & there, despite the fact that it was in the middle of a semester.

Then he was put in charge of one of the Student Government councils I was on, as well as just being on another council with me. The council he was in charge of was tough because instead of just using those of us elected, he brought in a bunch of his friends & only listened to their ideas. Then he asked us when the best nights were to meet, & when I told him I could meet any night except Tuesday, he said that we would be meeting on Tuesdays from now on. So there was that.

Then on the other council, every time I opened my mouth he made fun of me or shot me down. At one point, in front of everyone, he said he was on a mission to "dehumanize" me. No one took it seriously because "that's just his sense of humor." He did eventually apologize for that.

On a purely immature note, I was also jealous of how popular he had become. He was part of the group that had split off from my friend group & left me high & dry. I also didn't like how he treated women like they were inferior & stupid (kind of like how he treated me. Oh wait.....).

When I saw on the Facey B this morning, a lot of feelings went through my head. I felt slightly vindicated, & also relief. I felt frustrated at how brainwashed it seems some people are at how wonderful he was. At the same time, I feel bad for his family. I know what it's like to have a loved one die & you're the one left.

I texted my mother, who is an Oracle of Wisdom. She knows some of the situation & said this, "It's ok to feel nothing. He definitely wasn't a friend so you had no good connection. There are people I know that when they die I'll feel nothing...I will feel sad for them if they don't know Jesus but that would be all." When I said I felt guilty, she said, "Don't. Their really is no need to. We can't be expected to feel sad for everyone who dies. Especially those who were unkind to us." That made me feel better.

What do you guys think? Am I being immature? Does it make sense why I feel this way?

Just so you know, we didn't always have a tumultuous relationship. In fact, sometimes we got along just fine. And he was there the first time I ever puked from drinking. He even let me curl up in a ball on his lap while I shook due to possible alcohol poisoning.

Also, I don't want you all thinking I was just a push-over with him. I stood up to him numerous times at SGA meetings. Especially when the nights changed & I could go again.

Cest La Vie

My soul died at work today. Stupid Santa hat. But my soul didn't die just because of the hat. Though it contributed.