OK so it was a lovely day. I desided since I didn't have to walk with my dad I would take Lucy out for a ride. Not to my surpise she needed air and I didn't want to not give my little Lucy what she didn't need so I rode her to the local gas station and filled her up. As the back tire rose I could hear it cracking and i grimaced but figured if I took her home and oiled them a bit they would be as good as new. Boy was I wrong. Not but 5 feet in riding with headphones on I hear this huge pop. I sniffle knowing that means she had blown out and get off her and walk her to the trian and get on and take her to the Mr. Bill's Bike shop in Palmyra. So now since he didn't have the tire I have to wait till Friday to get her back. Though I'm off Saturday and Sunday and she needs a paintjob. Its supposed to be really nice too so I think I know what i will be doing Sunday while off. This NJ winter wasn't good to poor Lucy. I need to get her to a warmer climete stat.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
So Jersey: One girl's tale from childhood to adulthood in the Gardenstate: Part 3
THe Drunk Kids The Catholics.
My veiws on religion most likely steam from things I felt and learned from an early age. At about 4 my mom tried to get me into a Catholic preschool at the local school. There were two. One I was the right age for but we were to poor for. THe other I had to wait till i was 6 to get into. Need less to say I went to school at six. So starting late and alot of home tutoring made me always feel smarter then the kids in my class. Meaning when the work wasn't up to my level I got bored and stopped working deeming it more a waist of my time and theirs for me to do it then for me not to. This only made most of my teachers think I didn't understand what we were doing till I was introduced with a quiz and would easily get an A or a B.
Catholic school is pretty much a diffrent universe to Public. Public school the kids come to school in what ever the parents can aford and if you didn't wear Lisa Frank when I was in school or have Lisa Frank stuff you were an out cast. This was the minor of the two shocks i got when I got to my frist public school Marcella Duffy Elementry in Florance NJ. The school is no longer there and I hope that the cunt they called the school nurse is long since dead. But being brought up in Catholic school you know about the wonderful church areobics program you had atleast once a week where you in your little uniform like everyone else would go to the church and stand up sit down and kneel all in diffrent times. All while reading along to the Holy Bible. Not to mention looking up at the suffering face of the son of God the whole time. Very pleaset way to spend your time before or after lunch. Though if you did all your exercise you got a treat of a really stale waifer. My church wouldn't let us have the juice with it since i'm pretty sure the blood of christ was loaded. So we only practiced canibalism and ate his body.
You know that's really gross to think about now. Your at the time eating at least a piece of body that was like over I don't know 1963 years old. That's pretty funky, no wonder people talked in tongues and see the virgin mother in toast.
The other big diffrence was the nuns. We only had a few left teaching because they had been found to incompotent to teach children at the points in the life they were at. We had a very sweet young one that tought us computers on what was most likely the orginal Macantosh computers. All we learned was origon trail and how to type. I ended up learning more about them when I had reached third grade in RIverside Elemntry school. However as most we all had our one resident scary nun. She was our libraian. All she did was sit behind her desk and knit and glare at us. She would finish and show us the terible brown colored donkey tails she would knit. Telling us if we told on anyone even if they really did it we would have to wear the tail the rest of the day and till we came back to the libray. She really was a scary old woman and had a horable selection of books. My ones at home were better. Though I'm pretty sure she is the reason I hold "The Whipping Boy" as one of my favorite books from childhood.
Now the drunk kids later in life were the same kids that I had shared blocks with in pre school or thew into the blocks... Depending on the kid. By that time we had become so sucked dry of our souls from school we lived for the weekends and crappy local shows that were still some of the most fun I had ever had at times. Screaming along to "If You See Kay" and drinking in my friend Brain's car at the Walnut Street School. To only go inside and circle pit till we would have to rush out and vomit. Then lather rinse and repeat the process. Most of us at that time be it from school family or a combination of shit lived to get fucked up on the weekends. Our bodies were the temples of Coors Light and Smirnoff 100 proof. Weed and menthol cigerettes were the next if not the first in the new trinty we had for ourselves. No more father son and holy ghost. It was now Music, Drinking and Smoking. That became our religion. Crappy punk late night dinners and long streachs of time forgotten.
Somewere in the mix of all of this. I had started to read on Easter Religion and Pagan beliefs around age 13 when I realized God the man I had never done anything to but pray and do my things for my church and all stopped listening to a child's prayers. Hulk Hogan was wrong. I didn't do it right or somthing. I said my prayers ate my vitimins and still I watched my mother go insane. So I looked to religions that worked on inner healing and not so much on a deity to report to. But even that was second to the real religion of my teen years. Music.
Posted by Ebon at 4:48 PM 1 comments
Sunday, February 7, 2010
So Jersey: One girl's tale from childhood to adulthood in the Gardenstate: Part 2
Curse of the Fallen soul.
I really don't remeber much about the two grandparents I lost at a young age. My grandmother was said to be well a hernias bitch is what my mom called her. And that was her own mother. I kinda hope I never get there. I've been there but gotten over it but i'm rambling I hope you all enjoy rambling. I'm going to do it alot. My pop pop well he loved me to death his only son's only daughter so I was kinda spoiled by him. If you remeber Teddy Rupsink the talking bear thing. I had about 5 of them because i kept ripping its mouth off in an attempt to either have it eat my finger, feed it or was just courius to why the damn bear was talking and moving its eyes at me in the first place. I'm pretty sure I broke one's eyes to so the thinkg would stop gawking at me at night.
None of that stuff how ever beat Netasha. She was my favotei toy and untill 5 years ago I had her with me.. I gave her to my mom when she left so she would have somone to look over her. I know dumb thing for a 20 year old at the time to say but. I really did believe it. I still do. That doll had been though the same war as I had. Every peek I had every bad break up or boy that hurt me. Netasha listened and never judged me just let me squeeze and cry. And honestly that's what I think we all need some times. I really should thank my grandparents for getting her for me. If they were still here.
Also my love of the marcabe comes from my grandmother's death I really believe this. My mother had to go and pick her coffin much like anyother kid I liked to wander away. They couldn't find me for almost two hours and later found me curled up at the bottom part of a coffin sleeping and hugging Netasha to me. (Told you she went every were with me.) From what I remeber which isn't much it was pretty comfortable, but toddlers can fall asleep anywere i'm told. And if I can sleep on this futon with all its metal bars digging onto my back I can see how I can pass out in a coffin. Its most likely more padded then this.
Its sad how I know of these peope but can't remember them. I often wonder if they would have been proud of me and all I've done or haven't. In what I did so far in my life. Its hard to gauge a grand parents reaction to things when your last surrviving one nothing is ever good enough for. At times I'm jealous of my older cousins that got to be with them longer know them more then I ever did. But we play the cards we get. Plus one of my grandparents wasn't even really it he didn't have to be a Pop Pop when I was little or even leave me anything when he died we weren't blood related. But he always treated me well. I kind of regreat never going to see him due to my mom's hate of him when he was just sitting in his wheel chair as a vegtable before he finally died.
I'm sorry Pop Pop.
Posted by Ebon at 9:21 PM 1 comments
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
So Jersey: One girl's tale from childhood to adulthood in the Gardenstate: Part 1
I thought i would start a little tale of me nothing overly spectacular but fun and maybe get some laughs and people reading along the way....
October 3rd 1985:
Eleven am I came screaming into the world. Pink wiggly and a head full of jet black hair. I wasn't quite right from the beging. I was a premie but i was no where near average premie size no I was the premie that was the size of a normal baby. My mom later told me I tired to come out about three times the last time being the last straw when I tried to be born in the K-Mart electronics center where she worked. This in my later years would make sence but we will get back to this right now its me pink and wiggly and they are putting thoughs wee little sunglasses on me. I forgot to say I was born yellow too. So they put the glasses on me put me in a tanning bed and I'm labled and given my blanky name band and my mom can now pass out. Poor woman worked really hard to get me. I'm her only child she never had anymore so she later collected my friends as her kids, this too would would cause conflict in use as mother and daughter. But for now i'm her number one number thirteen (that's how many miscarriages she had to get just one me. Some days you want to ask someone like her was I worth it, and I have she just smiles and tells me yes.)
The next thing my name is disputed by both partens the birth certificate says one thing my mom says another and my dad says yet another. It boils down to I was suposed to be April Luv Simons but was somehow changed to April Lynn Simons. My mom says it is now April Lynn Luv Simons and when pissed will say all four names at me and I will roll my eyes and call her Mary Lou. Next argument on my name is the origin. Mom says she had a dream the night my great grandfather died and that he told her she was to have a little girl and to name her April. Since she's from a line of gypsy's the name means something to her and the fact that April roughly means new birth so i guess I'm the new birth of the line of our family.
My dad on the other hand tells a totally diffrent side of the story. He knew i was a girl (were mom says he swore I was a boy and i kinda believe her but more on that later) and he wanted to name me April. Seeing as when I was born and it wasn't even the right month. Why he would think toi name me April the man isn't that creative. Trust me I'm pretty sure April was my mom's doing. He also states he wanted it to be APril Luv just like my mom but wont tell me why as where she will say it was to be named after the song. I've never heard the song. I really don't ever plan on it either. Otheres when told this will sing it to me and if these bad kereoke versions are anything to go by. I don't ever want to hear it.
The next few months are kinda not really known to me i figure i do the normal baby thing suck on mymom'boobs lepry. I was told i wasn't a very fussy baby. iguess they got lucky. I do know i looked misserable in a good 75%of the pictures I was awake for. and have been told by pelethat my Romainian/Welsh/ and Native American ass looked like a chinky baby by a kid i went to Art School with. I just think i looked pissed off.
Judge for yourself:
Posted by Ebon at 11:53 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
OH life
I spent three hours close to four talking to the papoose on the phone. It cheered me up and i know it had to have cheered her up. She couldn't stop laughing and all i was doing was talking. She said alot of things that desi did in i shouldn't give up on the painting. We also both agreed that we need to go to Cochella. The line up is fucking out of this world as always. Its looking like my exscape route isn't happening. I wish my mother wouldn't flake on me so now i'm going to take my tax refund and actually save a bit and buy a car and get my doggie i said i would take off my friends hands and i don't know what else get a new job. Maybe move anyway get enough to move and leave after i see alkaline trio with tara and then go to my mom's see afi with her and the papoose and possably the twin. and then go visit desi maybe. I should just get a car save the money get mounchies get the dog and travel and make a blog on it. i might get inspired again.
who's with me?
Posted by Ebon at 10:06 PM 1 comments
Monday, November 9, 2009
its offical i think i failed at this life, gonna try again another time soon cause i mean fuck punk music is making me cry. that'a not normal.
Posted by Ebon at 10:53 PM 1 comments
Saturday, November 7, 2009
LIke a Call
So Thursday is my last AFI show for a while (hopefully only tillt he next round of tours) my dad can't quiet understand why I am leaving at 6:30 in the morning to sit infront of the electric factory. But i know and that is all that matters. After this show I'm not sure how long I will be in NJ it may be a few weeks to an extrea month and leaving in January. Hopefully my dad gets this job through the temp agancy and I wont be worring about them so I can go stay with my mom for a while and get my life back on track.
I hate this feeling like i'm stuck in a tailspin and can't pull up. But at least with my mom I will get my chance at changing that. I want to go back to school I think. But i love painting too. Always have but not many see my work or when they do get it. BUt that's ok I like what i do and if i have a house or apratment fill with my junk in it when i die that will be fine. hopefully someone will like my work.
I know these posts are rambly at best but i really don't have a clear thought right now. I want to exsplore and see the world and with leaving i get a car. a means to freedom. to the open road. I think i need that even if its in NC. Atleast i can drive to see the Kup and Erica a new friend of mine only lives about 2 hours from my mom's 45 when she's home acording to my mom. Which is cool. I miss Nessa and she admited last night on the phone to me that she misses me as well. I hope everything goes as it should for her.
In other news. When did i turn modish? Bohemian eve? I can't stop listening to indie pop/rock and i just feel like how i dress is reflecting it more and more. When did i stop being a right little punk(all but the jacket i still wear pourdly) or a goth (ok i do still dress in black but now how i used to.) It amazes me what i find cute in fashion and all anymore. Maybe its something all 20 something's deal with. You know besides being almost 25 and still done nothing but graduate college but do nothing with it but work in liqour or curtains. And the possablity that i fucked up in picking what i went to college for and should i go back or just find a way to do it with out a education that has a degree and more shit attached to it then i need. can i put myself through that again? I don't know. I hope so until then i just keep pushing myself and working my way out toa sunnier coast. To the Golden State.
<3
Posted by Ebon at 6:01 PM 0 comments
