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I just realized that this is journal 500Congratulations True Believers, you've found the best journal of all time.
Actually, probably not. I'm not doing a contest, I'm not posting pictures, instead, if you're interested, read on.
This is a journal means a lot to me, as do your comments. If you're watching me and on my friends list and don't feel like reading, please take me off your friends list.
The story of TheAlbacor
Many of you know already that I am the type of person who questions EVERYTHING. Why did this person do that? Why are these people like this? How many licks DOES it take? Well, I am completely sure that I am like this because of my childhood.
My parents divorced when I was 4 and too young to understand that this was a fairly big deal. When I was growing up I had to listen to constant bitching about each parent from the other. "Your mom's a lying bitch" and, "Your dad's a selfish asshole." I split time evenly between the two houses so I got an equal amount of trash talk about each of them, which made me slightly resent and constantly wonder what, if any of it, was actually true.
As it turns out, my dad was the "fun" parent. Dad bought me and my sister almost anything we wanted (within limits, of course, we weren't rich by any means). He had a full time government job working on a military base not too far from us, and he made pretty good money doing it. He also earned time off very quickly and could take us on short vacations all the time. But, things started to go bad at work and my dad went a little nuts and resigned (he should be receiving some retirement money, but isn't for some reason. USA government, FTW!). Anyways, he had a weird episode and was taken to the VA hospital a few years back where he was diagnosed with schizophrenia and social anxiety disorder.
On the other side, my mom was the "strict" parent. She rarely bought my sister and I things and now that I'm old enough, I understand it was because we had to live on welfare. However, my mom had multiple jobs, at one point 5 different jobs, and worked her ass off to provide for us. She ended up marrying my stepdad who passed away just last year. After that she started going to school to get a degree in medical transcription so that she could make decent money when she got done, and she still continued to work multiple jobs on top of school. She found out when she graduated that she got paid jack at that job, so she went back to school again for a degree in nursing, which she now has. Now, she is finally in the position to afford things for us, even though she still doesn't "spoil" us too much, which is fine by me.
Now, back to me. My whole life I've always been somewhat of the odd guy out. All through school, the people in the grade above me picked on me constantly. I was routinely called a "fag" or something to that effect. This even happened in the private Christian school I went to up until 8th grade. Then, when coming to the bigger high school with more people I had even more trouble fitting in, at least at first. I could tell that my classmates thought I was weird and a lot of them thought I was a stoner (before I actually tried the stuff... figure that one out). Then, after getting grades back a few times, people began to realize that I was actually pretty intelligent and not just some dumb loser. This continued when I got a 28 on my first and only ACT, beating many of the "smart" people in my grade.
My senior year, I became famous. The teachers loved me and so did my classmates, as well as many of the younger kids. This is probably because I was nice to everyone and would joke around with all of them, even if other people called them losers or treated them like shit. After all, I knew what that was like. I did a stand-up comedy routine for our "Mr. West Salem" competition during homecoming that had most of the school literally chanting my name, well, technically, my nickname, Animal (This came from this action I used to do during sporting events. I was better at pumping up our crowds than the damn cheerleaders were.)
It was a weird experience being famous. One day a guy I didn't know, but had seen before (I went to a fairly small HS) walked up to me and told me that my dome light was still on. I was confused at first, but said "Thanks, man." This continues to happen to me in my hometown. People will see me and say "Hi, Nick." And I'll try to conceal my confusion and my attempts at figuring out who they are, and then say, "Hey, how's it going?" back with a smile.
But, remember, I said I was famous, not popular. I didn't really hang out with too many people outside of high school and only got invited to a few times. I was more like everybody's friend than anybody in particular's friend. Some people even came to me for advice, but still didn't really want to just hang around me, which was kind of annoying.
All these things though, have led me to constantly question peoples' motives. Why is it that most people feel comfortable talking to me and around me, but at the same time don't really want to do things with me too often? What is that person's intention? etc.
These things have also made me relatively shy, at least until I realize that I have some sort of support or backing from some people. Zatch should understand this (Think back to the first RvB MN. I didn't really talk to anyone BUT Zatch, for the most part.)
I've become someone who really gets mad when I hear about all the bullshit that women have to deal with, probably due to my overwhelming respect for my mom and everything she's done.
I also hate to see the minority bullied by the majority, partially due to respect for my grandfather (he's about 1/8 Native American and has fairly dark skin, do the math). I can't stand true racism. (Jokes, of course, are jokes, IMO. If we can't make fun of each other at all for our differences, what are we going to make fun of!? Yes, I'm fine with white jokes.)
Well, that's all I can think of. Any comments, or questions?
How do you think I turned out?
How much does this journal suck?
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This was a very good journal.
You Animal
Glad I got to read it.
props my brother, mucho props
-My parents divorced when I was in 4th grade...so I believe I'm like you in the wondering bit, but maybe not so extreme to be so analytical with the government as you are, although we need those people because the gov. is really screwed up. And my parents have been good about slandering the other, although I still hear it every now and then. I spend time with my mom about 95% of the time, and the other 5% with my dad nowadays although it used to be more balanced...like 70/30.
-Never was famous, never was invited to things really either, like you.
-Yup, I understand. You're going to RvB MN 5, right?! I am the only one worth talking to.
-You turned out Nick.
My mom and dad are divorced. Dad married my mom because he’s gay and at the time he needed a cover story. He intentionally had my sister to strengthen his look as a married straight man. I was the product of Angel dust (per my father, confirmed by my mother).
My dad later admitted to me (while drunk) that he tried to “Kill my little bastard before he had a chance to get out†(meaning me). I think this may/may not leave me bitter to him. He’s called me 3 times in the last 4 years. I don’t hate the guy, but I don’t love him either. I’ve never had a problem with him being gay, nor do I hide it.
My mom and dad’s marriage ended with my mom flailing a machete at him like a mad woman. Later she would admit to the police that she was trying to wound him enough to stop him, then she planned to bleed him to death as slowly as possible. She was tired of the beatings, and made it clear. Mom became super aggressive to people after that. Nothing funnier than a 4 foot 9 inch tall woman intimidating grown men! Dad made mom a fighter. I can’t thank him enough for it.
My mom is a bitch. Uber bitch. Bitchousextremeious. PMS Bitch commando from hell… and her most popular nickname “The Pigmy from Hellâ€Â. I love my mom, and I have an awesome relationship with my mom. I pick on her just like anyone else, and she can handle herself. Yes, I call my mom a bitch to her face, and she calls me her little bastard. We say it with smiles and light hearts.
Mom worked a few jobs at the same time to make ends meet. We were constantly loosing one thing or another. Pay the lights, loose the water. But she did the best she could, and I love her for it. Later, she dropped me off at school, was hit head on, and couldn’t walk.
Four years of being technically homeless (I built a place for us). Mom re-learned how to walk, I saved up money… I gave my mom enough to get her new home. Later she got a job, all worked out. She still lives in that house to this day.
I went to school, earned a few degrees, was a missionary for a while, was a youth minister, almost became a minister, I quit my new career day 1, started my backup career (which I am currently doing).
I’ve never been popular, famous… I’m just me, and I know I’m awesome!
Hey, you turned out pretty damn good after all that turmoil!!!!!!!
Mmm ... I bet I have some Viking blood or maybe some Spartan.
Anyway, questioning everything is important in life. You have to question your government, your religion, and yourself.
If you just take the cup, drink the juice, and just believe everything that people tell you, and the lies you may tell yourself then you are no better than the rest of the sheep in the world that go blindly where their masters tell them to go.
The search for the truth should be a never-ending life process.
being famous in your town is quite interesting. i was not, nor ever will be, popular/famous in my town. in high school, my senior year - i hung out with nerds. certifiable. my 2 best friends were in 10th grade, but they were the smartest in their class. also, another guy that hung out with us? he was also in 10th grade, but in 9th he took the ap calculus exam and passed with a perfect. he then student taught the older kids ap calc. yikes! but these guys (yes, they were all guys - surprised? i'm not), i have some of my best memories of high school with. i was also in show choir, in the top choir at my school. that was a lot of fun too - except i hated my senior class. meh.
i can't imagine you as a shy person. of course, we only know each other through the interweb. but i think that if i knew of you in person, i'd seek you out to be a good friend. hell, i think of you as a good friend now. just because we haven't met face to face doesn't mean bubkiss. HAHAHA!
i used the word bubkiss.
Wow, that would have been great having people know your name as you walk down the street, its nice to have people just come up to you and say hello, makes you feel real good :D. I know what you mean about people knowing you but not getting invites to places, that happens to me a bit too. I am friends with about 90% of my grade, but rarely see many of them out of school. Sure I hang out with my close group of friends, but never really with the others. Its still good to be able to say gday to them and you know that they have respect for you, and they know that it will be returned.
Just for the record, I think you turned out just fine ;)
I think it's a good feeling when you can put everything in life into perspective.
I <3 you and think you're an awesome person-- AND you talked to me at RvBMN... don't forget that shit! HA!
P.S... I'm trying to coordinate something with Brenden and some others to see if we can all make a time to get together-- let me know when/what times work best for you!
<3 ya like a brother...and my bf's bf.
I've got to say I know how that feels. For me though, you'd have to add the people in the same grade as I, those in the grades below me, the people I actually considered to be my "friends', and expand it to the start of middle school, not high school. Going from a small Christian school to a large public school is one hell of a change, and probably the most, if not one of the worst experience of my life.
Some of the same stuff also happened to me. The only time any of my classmates would want anything to deal with me, it was because they wanted the answers to the homework that thwy didn't do. They'd act all buddy-buddy with me, and once it was done, they wanted nothing to do with me until the next assignments.
I wrote a journal entry in which I talked about the Da Vinci Code, and how Christianity is worried about the "aftermath" of that book. I mentioned, however, that questioning your faith creates accountability not only for the faith, but also for your CONCERN about your faith. You ask because you care. My point is, your asking questions shows that you really WANT to know about things/people/etc. You're not trying to kiss up to someone, or be a "great conversationalist". You ask because you really want to know. And that genuine "need to know" attitude is probably why so many people like talking to you. Because you listen. Because you're interested.
Quite in-depth and personal. Not an easy thing for most people to write about at all, examining where they came from in detail. I'm nowhere near 300 journals, let alone 500. I suppose by then if I haven't figured out what I want to say I'll settle for something frank and honest that I'll assume people may not know about myself. Good journal, a most worthy 500th.
Post edited 12/04/07 3:43AM
I've never interacted with you as far as I know, but this journal says enough.
You are the classic 'good guy' and I wish you all the best.
congrats on 500 journals...
aaannnnd this journal does not suck
it was a joy to read