Archive for the Back Ground Category

Indeed, Hello World.

Posted in Back Ground, Growing Up, life, Love on March 18, 2008 by Danielle Self

I’ve decided to break into the blogging world. Will it be successful? Um, doubtful. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have way too many thoughts bouncing around my head at any given moment and it would do me some good to have a let out. My other blog happens to be known by everyone I would be talking about… so thats a definite no-go. I’m not going to lie- its pretty liberating being anonymous for once. Coming from a small town in Arkansas where everyone knows your name and your GPA from high school 4 years ago and what you wore to graduation and how many times you’ve been home since going away to college and how many guys you slept with while you were there and… you get the picture. I was captain of the cheerleading squad and the one girl that everyone thought would be said town’s claim to fame when she won Miss America… so that whole “knowing everything about you and your dog” thing- went doubly for me.

I’m not really sure where to begin so I suppose I will just give everyone a brief Reader’s Digest Version of my life so if you read later posts you won’t be too terribly lost.

  • I was born X number of years ago in Michigan to my wonderful parents. (Clarification- born to one great parent and one sucky parent.) My father was in the Air Force so we moved a lot between birth and about the time I started First Grade. I actually started a Kindergarten class to move less than 3 weeks later. I grew up in Arkansas. Blah blah blah… normal-ish childhood. (i.e. Dad never really “there.” Mom super over achiever and probably way too involved in my life to try and compensate)
  • Age 13 hits and I get my first boyfriend and first kiss only to have my Wonderful Father run his large truck into our garage collapsing it less than two weeks later. The big news is out- My father is a prescription drug addict. I’m moved literally overnight to the Deep South of Arkansas… or what I like to refer to as Satan’s own Personal Torture Chamber. I was forced to go to private school because public schools “weren’t safe (for a white girl like you).” Yes- I come from a long line of ill-informed racists.
  • I left the HellTown a semester and a half later and came back up to where I rightfully belong- Northwest Arkansas- the home of Hog Hats, “Woo Pig Sooie”, Wal-Mart, Pageant Patty, the typical Southern “Greek Life or Die” Mentality, and a serious alcoholism problem.
  • I had a fairly normal junior high and high school experience. I was popular, captain of the cheerleading squad, became high school sweethearts with the star on the basketball team, began pageants, and kept my nose sparkling clean. I, in fact, never had a single drop of alcohol until a month or so before graduation and because of my father I grew a deep hate for drugs so they were never present either.
  • I broke up with my high school sweetheart to have more time for pageant practice in the winter of my junior year. Being that he had graduated a couple years before me, was still living at home, still had no job, and had no intention of working towards anything like that… I didn’t feel bad.
  • Shortly after that, although not yet graduated, I entered my “college life” phase where I refused to hang out with my old friends because they were still into all the high school drama and (insert Regina George) I was so above that.
  • I met a Razorback Baseball player and was amazed that he found me interesting and attractive and wanted to date (a.k.a. sleep with) me. This started my submission to guys in the form of getting naked whenever they wanted me to. I’m not proud of it… but thats what happened. Baseball Hottie was AMAZING in bed… not that I had much to compare it to seeing as I was a solid 16 and he was 22. I quickly became “that girl.” You know the type- the girl that he takes to parties simply for the fact that all his friends wanted to see this hot high school chick that was so obsessive and did whatever Baseball Hottie wanted her to. I went to his games sporting his number and looked at all the other girls wearing his number (he was a well-known player) thinking they wished they were me… I mean he had agreed to meet my mom so that he could date me! That totally meant that I was the only one…. right? Mmmhmm.
  • Baseball Hottie went to camp that summer and while he was gone I decided to fill my time with college classes at the local Community College. Being the overachiever that I was I sat in the front row of class so I could suck up properly, get as many notes as possible, and remain focused. After all, I was kind of sort of maybe in a relationship! I wasn’t there for boys. Nevertheless, I was overall disappointed in the quality of cute guys in my classes. Until the second day. Holy. Mother. of. Christ. This guy was hot…. and funny… and smart… and older… and well hot. So the second week of class I noticed that he was no longer in the deep recesses of the back of class but was definitely sitting right behind me. I played it cool… no big deal. That, I suppose, was when I officially met T. Now, pay close attention to this guy because he’ll be the focus of many if not most of my posts. T was a fraternity boy, a sophomore in college, and a damn good dresser. I instantly fell for him. However, I was known as “the high school chick” in class being that I was the only person under the age of 21. I didn’t know how to act, what to say, what to wear, or anything. All I knew was screw Baseball Hottie and his games… I wanted a real man. I wanted T. I honestly was so nervous around him that for the first 3 weeks of class I didn’t even know his name although we talked everyday. I was too busy thinking about how to be cooler than I was than to pay attention to roll call. This class is also where T deemed me with his special nickname. (Which later became my drunk alter ego.) In the last bit of class, all my prayers were answered. He at that point asked for my number. We shamelessly flirted for the next week until the last couple days of class rolled around and my mom decided that being that I was still in high school I wasn’t allowed to hang out with people she didn’t know. So… begrudgingly I asked T if he would come 30 minutes away to my house and meet my mom so that we could keep hanging out. That was probably one of the more traumatic moments in my life but amazingly he agreed. They met and as we were walking upstairs to continue the tour of my house the most beautiful thing happened. He turned me around and we kissed for the very first time. I literally saw fireworks. It was the most perfect moment. Our whirlwind romance continued all summer. He had to go back to his hometown which was about an hour and a half from where I lived so that whole summer I lived for phone calls and IMs. The summer culminated by us reuniting at his fraternity house and having sex for the first time. Even now I still smile when I think about it… especially when I think about how his “passed out” roommate was faking the whole time so that T wouldn’t kick him out and he could watch.
  • T and I never were in a “relationship” per say. We were just “together.” He was not my boyfriend. I repeat- not my boyfriend. I had issues grasping that when we were seeing each other though. My mom wouldn’t allow me to go to his fraternity functions and having a high school- college relationship is hard in general anyways. When I would ask the unaskable- “where is this going?” He would always reply that he didn’t want to complicate things and with my going to college the next year he didn’t want me to have a boyfriend because it was inevitable that my “no drinking” moto would go out the window along with any other said morals I had and it was better that I get through that phase with him as an understanding friend versus a pissed off ex boyfriend. I took it…. didn’t believe a single word of it… but took it anyways.
  • The end of the school year marked a turning point for he and I. He got arrested for stealing. NOW- he is not one of those kinds of guys… he was really drunk from Rowe Week and he and his friend decided to go to their freshman dorm and demand drinks from their old rooms. When they found out it worked- the continued to every other room that would open their door. Next thing he knows- he wakes back up at the fraternity with some 8 or so iPods, video games, video consoles, and other random things laying next to his bed. And then the cops come with footage of him in the elevator with all the stuff. He gets arrested and spends some time in jail and is now on probation. This probation caused his parents to negatively view the University and fraternity. They made him come home and finish up school and the small college there. So I’m 5 months from living on campus with him and proving to him that I’m not like every other freshman and he is again 45 minutes away. Super.
  • You know all that stuff he said about me becoming an alcoholic and losing my morals? Long story short- He was wrong. It was WAY worse. Now nearly every freshman drinks on the weekends… but do they wake up at 8, still drunk from the night before, and grab a bottle of rum and start taking it straight from the bottle? Probably not. I had to have people hide liquor from me. I slept with whoever was closest to fill my T less void. In fact my lovely friends have coined a phrase for people even when I’m not around. “Are you getting drunk?… or are you getting *special nickname* drunk?” This created a rift between T and I. He went to a couple functions with me for my sorority and finally around Christmas he had had enough…. he told me he wanted to cut all ties. So… I drank more… and things were never the same.T and I are still friends and talk on a nearly daily basis. But things are different and more complicated now.
  • At the end of my freshman year, my brother’s wife left him. He is in the Army stationed in Honolulu, HI. He asked me if I wanted to come out for the summer and take care of his daughter while he was at work since he had custody for the next 3 months. I did. And I’m still here 10 months later. Seeing that I was still uber upset and obsessed over T, my brother invited me to get away from everything for a bit and move in with him. I didn’t see a down side. I’d get away from T and that whole situation. I’d get away from the immense peer pressure to drink. I’d get to live in freaking Hawaii. Why not? I made it official in August.
  • A week and a half after returning from Arkansas for a visit, I went on my first date with J who is in the Navy. It was my 19th birthday. See J is from my small hometown in Arkansas but I really didn’t know that he existed seeing as he moved in after high school and he is almost 5 years older than me. It must have been fate for us to live in the same super small town for 2 years only to meet in Honolulu, HI. We became an official couple Sept 1st. He proposed October 1st. We ended the engagement December 25th. Yes… it was a lovely Christmas. And broke up completely a week or so after that. We are still in the damned limbo “together” shit that T put me through and I swore I would never take again…. right.

So that bring anyone who may be reading this up to date. Welcome to my life.

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