Learning To Love You More




Assignment #14
Write your life story in less than a day.

Lacy Blue
Denton, Texas USA



At 11:08 a.m. I have decided to write my life story.
I guess I should start with my parents. They got married at the ages of 21 and 22. I've always been told that when two people love each other very much they sometimes have a baby. That was me.
In the end of June; I'm a cancer, but the stars are usually wrong about me. Maybe because I was raised strictly Southern Baptist, and they don't believe in astrology.
I could talk at 9 months old. One of my moms favorite stories to tell is that when i was one I didn't get to promote to the next Sunday school class because of my summer birthday, and the other parents were astonished when my mom picked me up and I wailed that I hated church because the other kids couldn't talk. I guess it shouldn't have come as such a shock to my parents when I decided that organized religion wasnt for me, I mean, it wasn't my thing from the start.
I learned how to be selfish when I was three and a half. My sister Samantha was born.
The best things in life happened on Nana's lap. She would peel apples and read books all day.
In Elementary school I remember our house with the wooden porch swing, wall of morning glories, in the back yard a fort that my dad built and when he ran out of washers, he drilled the skrews into quarters. Our Great Dane, FloJo, had a doghouse that I could stand up in; this sounds impressive until you learn that I was only 4'3'' in the fifth grade. Honeysuckle hung over the side fence from our neighbor Kurt's backyard. It was a jungle back there. He used to yell at me for sneaking in, said he'd whip me with switches, but I couldn't stay away from his giant Weeping Willow tree. The branches touched the ground so inside it felt secret and magic.
I loved a boy, but noone knew about it. Not even him. I guess thats how all great pre-pubescent love is.
I got in trouble for spelling 'the F word' in first grade, and for calling a girl a bitch when she beat me at four-square in fourth.
My mom made me wear leggings with foot straps adn curly side ponytails with huge boys. I was dainty for a while, but then i got fat.
My family moved the summer before sixth grade. By then I had two more sisters. Rikki was named for my grandpa because he didn't have a namesake. She was supposed to be the last kid, but then Alyssa came too. My mom got her tubes tied. My dad deserves four girls because he is a football coach.
I was jealous of Sam in middle school. She was quiet and pretty, while I was loud and awkward. I played sports and in eighth grade I was a cheerleader (after I hit puberty I wasn't fat anymore). I played the flute in band. Since our school was so small, eighth graders could be in high school marching band. Thats where I met Duane.
He was my first kiss and we wrote eachother love letters. My mom didn't like it and when we moved that next summer she was glad.
Before we moved FloJo died and my parents talked about getting separated. They didn't though.
After we moved I decided that I hated my parents. Then our 13 year old neighbor taught my 5 year old sister how to kiss.
The new living situation didn't start off that great. I played volleyball, basketball and softball freshman year in high school. I discovered that sports and athletes weren't for me. My dad made me do Powerlifting. There was only one other girl. I got second place at the State meet for my weight class. I made JV cheerleader. Nana died that year.
The next summer I hated my parents more. It's hard to breathe when someone has their hands gripped around your neck. Needless to say I was pretty desperate for some air. I probably wanted to feel like a singular person rather than a daughter or a sister or student or teammate or whatever else.
I had a good looking boyfriend that I would sneak out of the house with. I lost my virginity and to this day noone that matters knows about it. I was glad to defy my family that way.
By November I had a new boyfriend who would become the best and worst thing ever to happen to me. We loved eachother in a blind, destructive, childish way. He hurt me sometimes to put it lightly.
After two years it was over and I was bitter. I was blunt and cynical and I dyed my hair black. It was my senior year.
I was numb to my family and ready to move out. I took Art1 and Apparel classes to keep me stimulated.
I figured out that I'm good at art... drawing and painting, I mean.
My family moved again the summer after I graduated. I had a lot of time to think.
I figured myself out.
I'm a Visual Arts major at UNT. I'm a mother of three beautiful fish with more on the way. The best part of the year was when all the leaves fell off the trees. I only contact my family when I have to pay bills and when I write my sisters letters. I have a favorite sister and I'm not ashamed of it.
My favorite flavor is coffee and cigarettes.
I think my Nana and I have parallel lives. I hope so. We're both artists, free spirits, like gaudy jewelry, both born in late June. Share the same middle name, Louise.
I want to paint murals, write a comic strip and illustrate childrens books when i grow up.
It's 10:53 p.m.