The Book Of Myself ~ Part 8

71) My military experience as an adult was:

None. However, when I was 17 years old and lived in Chicago, I went to the recruiters office to enlist in the Air Force. I always wanted to fly a plane! I took the test but then ran away to California. Never understood why they didn’t come looking for me, maybe I sucked on the test (laughing)?!

72) What I disliked about some of my jobs:

I liked all my jobs until there was no structure, teamwork and favoritism. No matter how short or long, good or bad the job was…to me, it was about learning, the experience and something at the end of the day say, “Been there and done that.” The career I have now (flight attendant) is probably the only job I’ve had that I truly love!!!

73) I traveled outside my local environs to these places and remember these experiences:

I always said that I would go to Europe and I did; London, Switzerland and Amsterdam! I also had visited all the states in the US (except maybe a small handful), 3 of the Hawaii Islands, Bahamas and Calgary/Toronto, Canada before I was 30 years old! Since then, I have been to Central America, the Carribbean, Spain, Italy, France, China and Korea. I love my Gypsy blood, curiosity for cultures and admiration of Mother Nature!

74) This event in my life raised my understanding of the larger world outside my immediate surroundings:

Running away from home at 16 and taking a Greyhound bus to Los Angeles. I had some old man try to get me to go to a hotel room with him. I also had this older lady try to get me to go to Seattle and become a biker chick. The one good thing I remember was this sweet older couple I talked to on the bus… I confided in them and told them I only had $5 in my pocket on my journey to L.A. They ended up buying me a meal at Burger King, never ever forgot that kindness! I have to say, you sure learn a lot when you’re out in the world by yourself at such an early age of innocence.

75) These deaths in my family affected me strongly:

My father – because he was not only my dad but my best friend and hero.

My grandma – because she was more like a mother to me, she never judged me, always gave me great advice and believed in me.

My younger half brother, he was the first child my dad had with my stepmother. I was close to him but when he got into drugs we hardly talked as much. In 2002, him and 3 other boys ended up in a terrible auto accident two minutes from our house. My brother (only 25 years old) and two of the other boys died on inpact of the crash. Only one of the boys survived but ended up in a vegetable state from the accident. What’s ironic, my brother was to start drug rehab two days after the accident. I remember the day before his wake, I went to see him at the funeral home. I stood at his coffin with disbelief, I stepped onto the stairs in front of the coffin, leaned in and layed on him crying my eyes out. I was so heartbroken.

76) Of all my personality traits, I hope my family and friends will remember these about me:

How I was loving, kind-hearted, open-minded, compassionate, adventureous, strong willed, liked making people laugh and always trying to evolve myself. But most of all, my love for people, animals and travel.

77) What funny or worse discipline do you remember from your dad and mom:

My mom – Getting my butt whooped with a belt and me thinking that placing my hands over my butt was gonna help make it less painful (laughing). That discipline was pretty typical growing up… I think there is only one horrific discipline from my mom that really stands out… Can’t remember what I was being disciplined for or how old I was, but I know I was young. She took a coffee pot cord to discipline me and left welts on my back.

My dad – The one discipline I thought was funny was when my step-mother had him ground me for something and later that day he let me off. The only bad discipline I remember wasn’t really a discipline… there was this time I was being a bratty teenager and I said to him, “I’d rather live with mom.” He then came into my room, I was laying on my bed, he got on top of me and started punching my arm. I remember later that day, my step-mother asked me why I didn’t defend myself. I said, “I figured if he ended up hurting enough he would stop.” Not sure if that was logical thinking or not…

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