2003-01-09 : -
Part II continued

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Did I mention that I have an eye muscle problem/astigmatism, etc (thanks to my father's side of the family...not my mom's side) and that my eyes cross slightly without glasses? Have I mentioned that I had to start wearing glasses at age 2, while my lucky-duck sister ended up getting surgery on her eyes to correct her similar muscle/vision problems when she was little, but they never bothered to get the surgery done on me..ratfinks! Actually, I can't imagine my life without glasses. I imagine none of my old friends could picture me without them, either. They are a permament fixture to my face. Before my sister had her eye surgery (I remember her coming home with eye patches on...unless I've made that image up to amuse myself!) she used to step on her glasses on purpose to break them so she wouldn't have to wear them. She also refused to stop sucking her thumb for awhile and my mom ended up putting this nasty tasting (or so I was told) stuff on my sister's thumb to discourage her from the sucking.

I didn't have alot of friends when I was a kid. I mostly hung to myself (which I still tend to do) and once I could read, that is about all I did. I also liked to rollerskate in the basement to the Xanadu soundtrack..Ok, I'm getting ahead of myself. I've left out the significant facts that my mother, sister and I moved to Champaign in 1972 or 1973, I believe and my mother met and married my step-father and had my brother, Michael, with him in 1974. We lived on Crescent Drive (and they were married and had the reception in our duplex apartment). The only thing I remember from that apartment is the dog who I was teasing who chased me around the front of the house (I'm sure I was asking for it) and it finally got so pissed that it attempted to bite my leg. I can still remember its mouth around my leg, but it never actually bit down. It was a small beagle type dog and I kept taunting it by calling it "sue" or something..that incident with the dog (I managed to get my mom to let me inside and she says my step-dad went after the dog with a baseball bat (I hope he didn't hurt it!)) managed to give me a near dog-phobia (which I still have of LARGE mean-looking dogs) for most of my childhood into adulthood.

We moved onto Lincolnshire Dr (where my step-dad still lives..by himself!) in the mid 70's and that is where most of my memories begin. The fire in the crawlspace that made smoke seep out from UNDERNEATH the hearthstone....I can't remember what year that was..I'll say 1977 or so, I must have been between 6 and 8. TUrns out that the fireplace in this house had never been built properly. I remember running to tell my dad that "smoke was coming out of the wrong place" and he went tearing into the garage (which was behind the wall w/the fireplace) thinking the garage was on fire. I distinctly remember that night and its strange details. We were eating on little "kittie" tables in front of the TV and Adam-12 was on which I was sort of digging. I was chewing up a piece of steak when I noticed the smoke, and I never bothered to swallow that piece of meat because I was so upset/nervous about this fire, that I must have chewed that sucker for a good hour. The firetrucks were called and my sister and I (I don't know where my brother was...he was just a baby, I guess) were escorted by two GIANT firemen down the icy sidewalk (it was the coldest day of the year! and we literally SLIDDD down the drive-way) to the neighbor's house across the street, where I was content in playing with a ton of old barbies. I remember coming back that night later on and there was a huge gaping hole in the middle of the front room floor, dirty hand prints along the wall which went down into the basement and there was a ton of water on the basement floor, and there, to my horror were my sister and I's two "lifesize" dolls floating around in the water like two flood victims. It was really creepy. I think I'll end here.Remind me to write more about: car accidents in front of our house...babysitting the retarded kids down the street (one of them later died in a fire when their house burnt down..he was playing with matches..another vivid memory of mine), and the incident involving a newborn baby left on the doorstep of my neighbors house. It was a crazy, middle-class, white, suburban neighborhood for a good 5 years..more later!