Sometimes, often, or maybe never…I’ll add stories about travel a little closer to home: cities like San Francisco, Miami, and DC where I’ve lived in the past, the Jersey City neighborhood I currently live in that’s supposed to be “up and coming” but is more like “stalled and crappy”, almost daily trips into NYC for work and play, and the biannual visits to Pittsburgh to see the family.
There will be lots of stories about my family, especially about my sisters Carrie is the middle child, the troublemaker, the one who stashed beer cans and cigarette butts under her bed – as if you would need a bloodhound to sniff those out. But hey, what do you expect from a 13-year-old? It’s ironic how disciplined her own child is.
And Megan – the youngest and most spoiled. When I was 16, I parked at far ends of parking lots just to avoid the chance of another car scratching my shitty Chevette. Because I knew what would happen to me if my father saw a scratch. By the time Megan came along, my father must have forgotten what would happen, because she racked up 7 accidents …before graduating high school. And I think all they ever said was, “Well, at least you’re okay.” Now she’s in nursing school. I’m hoping seeing other accident victims inspires her to drive more safely.
My mother and father will also make appearances. But I really need the stories to describe them. There’s just …so…much. I mean, isn’t that where all our baggage begins?
