Growing up in California

Alright. Here is the meat and potatoes of my memories from childhood and teenage years. Speaking of, you never see kids today enjoying their younger years. It's always some kind of electronic game or other waste of time that's hogging up all their developing brain cells. I remember when me and my brother would sit in the living room without a care in the world, watching the TV (also Idiot Box). TV back then was different too, but that's a story for a different time.
I was born on July 9. You don't really need to know the year, but I can assure you that it was a long time ago. My mom and dad's relationship to crumble before we moved to California. They eventually split by the time we moved to Anaheim. I don't remember much about this point in my life, and so few people at my age do, but I'll try and really sort through my memories to find something.

I never really did good in school. Just wasn't my thing, y'know? I got a little bigger as I got older and hit my teen years. My brother would always call me the "Limpin' Blimp" or "Fatso flatso". Just to up my already low self esteem, gee thanks Garrett. We lived in a little shoebox on a road with other little shoeboxes. The family next door was my best friend Debi. She was a mexican girl and lived with 5 other families all crammed into the same house. She told me that they slept on small beds, her and her brother.
My dad drank a lot and my parents fought. It sucks but it's true. My parents didn't stay together long when we moved to California. Eventually we split up and my mom would talk shit about my dad when I was out shopping with her and vice versa. I stayed with mom longer and eventually stopped seeing my dad. We had a cheap little apartment in Anaheim.
I joke now that I'm an old hippie, and my teen years? No different. I tried all the drugs. Yep. LSD, uppers, downers, crack- never heroin though. I can't do needles, man. I rolled joints with my friends, smoking so much that I would walk into History class first period with the worst pain in my mouth tripping balls over the Battle of Hastings or whatever. Funny (or sad) enough, I didn't graduate high school, actually, I dropped out in sophomore year, just right before Mom and I moved again. Don't you dare start getting all sappy on me though! I'm not an illiterate moron because I didn't get my regular diploma. A few years later, I did get my GED.

Eventually, I went to technical school where I found my love of art. I couldn't stop painting- and NO it was not just the toxic fumes. My intro to art professor saw all sorts of potential in young Judy. Sadly, young Judy was a wandering hippie and had no time for stuck up art critics. Looking back, I wish I had done something with it. Graphic design. Architectural design. Ahhh, what could have been?

Where to next?

~ California Livin' | Return to Wisco | Adulthood | Home ~

You can choose what you want to read. My upbringing and rebellious teen years would fall under the first one California Livin'. My failed marriages, experiences with a drug family, and other hijnks are found under Return to Wisco. And finally, everything from fights with my son and my drinking problems to what I think about today's social issues is considered Adulthood.