Technodivinitas
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 14, 2004
- Posts
- 505
The Bastard Daughter of Gypsy Piano Tuners
I was born a poor black child...
Of course not- but I've wanted to say that ever since Steve Martin did. *S*
Actually, my folks were both the artistic black sheep of their families, and both (and I say this unsarcasticly,) clinicly insane. Literally. They spent the majority of my childhood taking turns getting commited. Dad was a paranoid schizophrenic valium addict, mom a manic depressive binge drinker. We travelled, (mostly fleeing various troubles they'd gotten themselves into,) a lot. It was a lovely childhood, barring the late night hospital trips and occasional bloodshed. (Not mine- they weren't abusive or anything, just broken, and not very good at being grown ups.) My sister and I got dragged along on all sorts of adventures though. We trapped lobsters in Coronado, mined for gold in Gunnison, ran a hip espresso joint in the college district in S. Missourri... There was the Mexican gunboat incident, and the boarding of horses in Tucson...
Eventually though, I discovered that they were probably not very good at raising me, and I set out on my own, to try and find a way to raise myself. (I was poorly equipt for the job, I'm afraid...) I was 16 I think. Hit the streets of Seattle about the prime of the Green River Killings, and managed to work the streets there (for all of 2 weeks- my street buddy and I got beat up for horning in on a local pimp,) without getting killed.
From then on, I was a street musician, and faired pretty well, among other odd jobs which I never kept terribly long. Bad genes, you might say- between the two of them, my folks' DNA potentials were questionable at best, and combined with the off-beat upbringing, I ended up so ADD that getting and holding a regular job is nigh impossible. Still, I've had some interesting ones...
I was a DJ, (thrice, in fact, and actually got paid for it once!) a stripper, a mall mannequin, (that was cool- modeling leather clothing and holding very still for long stretches...) a barrista, (I make a mean mocha, let me tell you,) and even once the Easter Bunny!
I studied at the Art Institute in '93, though my "support base" bailed on me right after my loans came through, so I had to ditch school too often to busk & earn food money, so my grades fell, and I lost my funding. (They're after my butt for that now, and you won't believe how hard it is to convince the govt. that yes, a human actually CAN manage to forge a life that involves no criminal activity, isn't liable for taxation, and collects no govt. support!
So that's where I'm at now. (Have I said, buy a shirt? *L*)
And no- this was definitely not a dick-swinging, "my life's harder" tale... all true, and I'm better adjusted than most of the "sane" people that I know!
NEXT!
I was born a poor black child...
Of course not- but I've wanted to say that ever since Steve Martin did. *S*
Actually, my folks were both the artistic black sheep of their families, and both (and I say this unsarcasticly,) clinicly insane. Literally. They spent the majority of my childhood taking turns getting commited. Dad was a paranoid schizophrenic valium addict, mom a manic depressive binge drinker. We travelled, (mostly fleeing various troubles they'd gotten themselves into,) a lot. It was a lovely childhood, barring the late night hospital trips and occasional bloodshed. (Not mine- they weren't abusive or anything, just broken, and not very good at being grown ups.) My sister and I got dragged along on all sorts of adventures though. We trapped lobsters in Coronado, mined for gold in Gunnison, ran a hip espresso joint in the college district in S. Missourri... There was the Mexican gunboat incident, and the boarding of horses in Tucson...
Eventually though, I discovered that they were probably not very good at raising me, and I set out on my own, to try and find a way to raise myself. (I was poorly equipt for the job, I'm afraid...) I was 16 I think. Hit the streets of Seattle about the prime of the Green River Killings, and managed to work the streets there (for all of 2 weeks- my street buddy and I got beat up for horning in on a local pimp,) without getting killed.
From then on, I was a street musician, and faired pretty well, among other odd jobs which I never kept terribly long. Bad genes, you might say- between the two of them, my folks' DNA potentials were questionable at best, and combined with the off-beat upbringing, I ended up so ADD that getting and holding a regular job is nigh impossible. Still, I've had some interesting ones...
I was a DJ, (thrice, in fact, and actually got paid for it once!) a stripper, a mall mannequin, (that was cool- modeling leather clothing and holding very still for long stretches...) a barrista, (I make a mean mocha, let me tell you,) and even once the Easter Bunny!
I studied at the Art Institute in '93, though my "support base" bailed on me right after my loans came through, so I had to ditch school too often to busk & earn food money, so my grades fell, and I lost my funding. (They're after my butt for that now, and you won't believe how hard it is to convince the govt. that yes, a human actually CAN manage to forge a life that involves no criminal activity, isn't liable for taxation, and collects no govt. support!
So that's where I'm at now. (Have I said, buy a shirt? *L*)
And no- this was definitely not a dick-swinging, "my life's harder" tale... all true, and I'm better adjusted than most of the "sane" people that I know!
NEXT!
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