Sep 30, 2010
Day 11: Your siblings, in great detail
I grew up with two sisters, though I have three. I say two, because they were the sisters who experienced the joys and the pains of our broken family the most severely1 and understand just how traumatic our childhood was. My youngest sister whom I love so much, never got to know the pain that we endured. She never got to see our parents at their worst, which for her sake was probably better. We’re not bitter about the things we endured as children, it actually formed a bond between us and we were and are forever known as the “Greer Sisters” because of it. 
The eldest of the four of us is Pamela or Pam. She was more like my dad and because of this the older she got, the more they disagreed and fought. It was to be expected, because the more qualities you have with another, the more common it is for you to dislike them2.
Pam was what we referred to as the glamorous one. In same ways my sister Rhonda and I were a little envious of her for her popularity and for her beauty. And I think it large part she [Rhonda] and I always grew up thinking ourselves inferior and unpretty because Pam was often the shining star– not only amongst her friends but also amongst our parents and as a result, she [Rhonda] and I formed a closer bond as we got older, while Pam kind of did her own thing.
Our childhood together was one that I remember with sadness mixed with joy and filled with pride. We were sisters. Young and naive, but we bonded together over the commonality of our dysfunctional family. It wasn’t uncommon to see us all dressed alike and we played together a lot. The older we got though, the further Pam drifted, until finally one day she decided she could no longer live under my dad’s house and left us, the way our mom had.
We were devastated and for a long time I think we resented her for her choice, but she did what she had to and for that I cannot fault her.
Rhonda, is the next oldest. She was in every sense of the word, our mother. She cared about us so much that she sacrificed quite a lot of her life to make sure that we were taken care of. She was always there to defend us and to shield us from the things that hurt. Rhonda was our rock, even before Pam left.
There isn’t a day that goes by in which I’m not thankful to have had her become the mother, my mother never could be. She stepped up without provocation and when it wasn’t her responsibility to do so. I can only hope that when we have kids I can be the mother she was to us. She was and always will be the one person I run to when I don’t have anywhere else to run.
Jasmine, is the youngest and I think in a lot of ways the odd man out. She was born 8 years after I was and as a result, growing up she was treated as the baby, the innocent. While it’s true she didn’t grow up with a mother, I can’t help by wonder if she was better off considering the mother we had. I love her to death and she’s grown into a wonderfully capable individual, but I often worry that my dad baby’s her too much and what that could result in.
Even now I find it odd to be able to hold a conversation with her because I always flashback to her being just a little girl who was obnoxious and who I wanted nothing to do with and yet now that I’m older I appreciate her more and love her more. She’s become the jewel we all protect in some aspects because we never had that protection growing up.
I love all of my sisters dearly and my biggest fear is losing one of them. I could not fathom how I would even beging to continue with my life without their presence. Yes, we have our disagreements and yes sometimes we want to throttle each other, but I consider myself lucky because my sisters mean the world to me and I don’t think I could have gotten through the life we lived as children without them.
I don’t believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at. – Maya Angelou
1. We grew up essentially without either parent.
2. See Kristen and I.
Sep 22, 2010
Day 3: Your parents, in great detail
I have never had the best relationship with my parents. In fact as a child I hardly knew them. My mother was constantly absent and my father, unable to cope with her absence succumbed to drowning his pain with alcohol.
I grew up raised by my maternal grandmother and nannies. My sisters and I are close because we only had one another to lean on and couldn’t count on our parents to be there. It’s a sad truth but one I have long since come to terms with.
When I was a child, I remember the first day of kindergarten. I was so excited, so happy. My mother did what any mother would do on the first day of school for her child- she walked me to the bus stop and saw me off. It wasn’t until later that day when I realized I was of no importance—when I realized that her friends meant more to her than I ever could.
I recall the bus pulling up and looking out the window searching for her. Eager to tell her about my day, about my teacher and about the students in my class. I looked out that window for her. I looked so hard that I think for a brief moment I imagined she was there and yet, the moment I stepped off that bus, I knew she wasn’t and it broke my heart. 
As I grew older, I learned that the only people I could rely on was myself and my sisters. I never asked my parents for things I needed– though a large part of that was a result of my mother brainwashing us into believing our dad would get so angry with us if we did. So if there was something I needed, I resulted to stealing it—from classmates, from the stores, from whoever or whatever place had it. The alternative in my eyes was worse.
Growing up is a memory that I try not to revisit. My dad eventually stopped the drinking and my mother for a time was a mother, but as with most Aquarians, she rebelled against being chained and let her friends delude her into believing she deserved more. I recall the day that she left. It’s so clear in my mind and ironically enough, even then my intuition was a force to be reckoned with.
My dad had just returned from deployment and they got in a fight because she wanted to go play Bingo and he felt that she didn’t care that he was back. In some ways she didn’t. I remember watching her walk out that door and feeling unease. Like I knew in my heart she wasn’t coming back. The next morning I was the first one to wake up and the first thing I did was look out the window to see if the car was there. It wasn’t. At the time I didn’t think much of it; I supposed I hoped that maybe she just spent the night at a friend’s.
And then my dad walked out of his room and I knew. He sat us all down and told us that my mother had just called and that she wasn’t coming back. My world shattered and I had to fight to catch my breath.
The divorce wasn’t pleasant. My mother wanted to split us up. She wanted the oldest children, but my dad fought against it. He ended up winning the custody battle but he lost in the sense that he was forced to pay spousal support and that resulted in losing our house. We moved on base and the custody agreement was that my mother got us every other weekend. At the time she was my world, my idol and every weekend that rolled around when we were allowed to see her would elate me—but as with all things, that never lasted.
She would tell us that she was coming to get us and I would pack and sit on the couch, waiting. I would wait for hours on end, until I realized that she wasn’t coming, my heart broke every time. After a while a hardness set inside me and I stopped waiting. That hardness is still inside me today.
Today, my relationship with my dad is still not that great, but it’s not terrible. While it’s not strained as it once was– years ago, it’s also not something to celebrate over. A large part of that has to do with the fact that I’m honest and he doesn’t really like to hear what he needs to be told and so our conversations aren’t very in depth or really much of anything, if I’m honest.
I love my dad. I love him for the man he is and his strength in raising my sisters and me. He has his faults, but at the end of the day, he fought for us when he didn’t have to and I respect him for that. Most men would have walked away– my dad was not that man.
My mother is—well she’s my mother. I’m no longer angry for the things she did but I haven’t forgiven her entirely either. I have to come to accept who she is and as a result have resolved never to trust the words that come from her mouth, but I do still love her, even if that’s not something I’ll readily admit.
I believe my parents did the best they could do with us, given their circumstances. I know my dad tried his best. He tried to do right by us and I know he loves us very much, even if it’s only in the way he knows how.
That still doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t break each time I see a mother and her daughter laugh together or a father run to his daughter’s side when she is lost and doesn’t know what to do and help to guide her. That still doesn’t mean that I’m not envious of the relationships others have with their parents, but I guess we can’t have it all—but looking back on my past, I wonder if I ever really had anything.
Aug 15, 2010
For those of you who are members on Ecstasy, you’re fully aware of what this post will entail. However, for those who aren’t, let’s just put it like this– my ALL time favorite holiday has been ruined by news which is was only made worse by the fact that Robby and I will yet again be separated for several days. Yeah, I know it’s sad– but don’t cry for me minions, I’ll deal. 
Last week, Robby came home to tell me that he was once again driving across the country. Why you wonder? Because my sister-in-law decided to apply for a job in San Diego and is now moving back in with my mother-in-law. Now, I wouldn’t be bothered by this if the entire event had been discussed with me, but it wasn’t so I was infuriated. I still have yet to hear from her regarding kidnapping my husband for a few days to drive her across the country. Why am I bothered by this? Because not once did she think to include me in her planning. She did not contact me to say, “Hey, is it okay if your husband helps to drive me and my husband across the country?” It’s not like Robby is single. He has a family– albeit, it’s just me, but still he has a WIFE to consider, so when he told me what was going on, I was LIVID and actually if I’m honest, still am.
The reason it bothers me so much is a, it’s rude, and b she knows her brother. She knows he is crappy in the memory and planning department so what would have happened if I had something planned that I told him about but he forgot1? Is he than supposed to cancel because she decided to be a selfish bitch and not bother to check with me first? So, yes I am HIGHLY aggravated about the entire situation and not in the less bit happy.
Now I bet you’re all wondering where in the hell Thanksgiving fits into all this. Simple. Thanksgiving is MY holiday. It always has been. Since we’ve been out here, except last year2 my mother-in-law has come out every year to celebrate with us. However, now that my sister-in-law and her husband are moving back in with her that means they’ll be out here too. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my sister-in-law, BUT I can only stand her presence in VERY small doses. The last time she was out here I was ready to lose my mind and damn near on the verge of killing someone3. So in the span of a very short work my holiday has been ruined and oh yeah there’s the fact that she’s kidnapping my husband and I still have yet to hear from her. Bitch.
1. This happens frequently.
2. It was my sister-in-law’s wedding.
3. Namely her husband who at the time was still her fiance.
Jun 19, 2010
So I have been cleaning today from 4:00pm until about 20 minutes ago. I took a 15 minute break to eat and then another hour because we had an Ecstasy staff meeting which I had completely forgotten about. Oops. Thankfully Outlook happened to pop up with a reminder just as I walked by to remind me.
I am exhausted. My back is killing me and for the most part I just want to cry. I managed to get 3 rooms, one of which was the loft and 2 bathrooms cleaned. I also steamed cleaned the living room this morning and tomorrow the only thing I have left is the kitchen. I asked Robby to steam clean the loft and our bedroom because I just want to not think or move tomorrow. Too bad I have to do homework.
Obviously this blog isn’t going to be entertaining—blame it on the fact that I have been cleaning effectively since this morning (steam cleaned) and thus the only thing I can think of is crawling into bed and not moving. I almost forgot to blog and to do my participation for class because I was so intent on trying to get as much done as I possibly could have. The kitchen would probably be done if I didn’t have to stop for our meeting.
Well as much as I want to continue to bore you all to pieces, Robby has just arrived with my little sister so I’m off to go greet them. I’m pretty excited about my little sister staying with us for a month because this is the first time my dad has let her, given how many times we’ve tried to bring her out here.
And in any effort to meet the 300 word requirement, when’s the last time you had someone to visit for awhile?
Jun 14, 2010
I need to make a point to try and blog in the mornings because I find that I tend to forget as the day wears on and as a result, a boring, quite pointless blog ensues. However, you’ve been forewarned so keep the snarkiness to yourself.
The next few weeks are going to be a whirlwind of events as the house is going to get pretty busy. Robby leaves this weekend to pick up my little sister who will be staying with us a little over a month. I’m pretty excited because even though she drove me completely mad in my Princess days, I now view her as my little baby who pretty much gets spoiled by not only myself but also my dad and other sisters. Damn, I know I should have waited to be born. 
In addition to her, Danika moves in July and I’m pretty excited about that. As much fun as it is to have “Girls Night” with the girls from Ecstasy, I think I’m really going to enjoy being able to have Girls Night away from my computer, lol. Plus, we’re both pretty content staying home and drinking so there won’t be this obligation to have to go out and spend tons of money. It’s going to be a blast.
Robby and I’s 3 year anniversary is also in July and I know he has something planned, though I don’t know exactly what it is. He asked me if I got seasick to which I replied, no. I know it’s not a cruise because he does not have the vacation time to take so it’ll be interesting to see what it is. I’m pretty excited though because this will be the first year we actually do something for our anniversary, other than go to San Diego for the weekend.
It’s going to be a whirlwind of a summer but I think it’s going to be a blast. It’s about damn time too, school and work get tiring and hey, everybody knows that girls just wanna have fun!
Jun 5, 2010
Despite the awesome that is me, there are some things that a lot of people don’t know about me or at least have a misconception about because of the way I carry myself. I won’t deny that years of pain and heartache are the reasons for such things, but after having a conversation with Jenn about how there are too many people on the net who seem to see her as a bubbly, always happy individual, I had to pause for a bit to ask myself how exactly do people see me. I’m sarcastic, that’s true in real life and I’m awesome, which is true in real life as well1 but I really had to stop and take a step back to look at what others might see from the girl who says what she wants when she wants without fear of consequence.
So I figured in order to seem a little more human to those who read my corner of the net, it would only be fitting to share a piece of myself that most people don’t know or think otherwise about. Because let’s face it, no one is happy or bubbly 24/7. No one’s life is perfect and pristine and no one’s life is as great as they make it out to be2.
My confidence is a lie. I always get told, by men and female alike that I have so much confidence and they wish they had my confidence. Well, the truth of the matter is I don’t have confidence, I just am great at pretending that I do or I’ve gotten to the point that I just don’t give a damn anymore, pick your poison. Either way, what everyone sees as confidence is a desire instead to protect myself because I’ve been hurt too many times by those I let get too close.
I wield self assurance and sarcasm as a tool. Think of it as my own defense system that’s been perfected over several years of anger, pain, tears, and bitterness. I just don’t talk about it often or mention the trials I faced as a child because the last thing I want from you or anyone for that matter is pity. I don’t pity myself so why the hell should I expect the same from you. So I grew up without a mother, others have grown up without both parents. So what if I didn’t know my parents growing up because one was lost in alcoholism and another was lost in the streets, there are those who will NEVER know their parents.
Yes, I’ve had a hard life, the instances above are just a sample of the horrors I faced as child but that doesn’t mean I need someone to come up to me and say, “Oh I’m so sorry for everything you’ve gone through.” because you know what? I’m not. I am so grateful because who I am, while I may not be completely, one hundred percent okay with her, is someone that I am damn proud of and despite everything that I’ve gone through, the trials that tested me and nights when I felt the pain would never pass– when it all boils down to it, at the end of the day even if I’m unable to love myself, there are others that do. So I’m not sorry, I’m not sad, and I’m not bitter. I’m blessed.
1. It still counts if my only husband thinks it right?
2. Except for mine. No, seriously. Okay maybe not.
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