My mother was really into Disco and everything that came along with that era. She was moved to Massachusetts from Minnesota. My father was really into nothing of importance, or anything legal for that matter. He was raised in North Carolina and then was moved to Massachusetts as well. I believe them meeting was the first accident the gods made. My mother was 31 when she was given the news and had been diagnosed with pregnancy. This horrific news sent her into a tail spin, not knowing when the next time she would be able to hit the clubs and tear it up with her peeps.
So there it is I, Amanda Nelson, the biggest accident of all, was born January 17, 1988 weighing 7 pounds 13 ounces and 21 inches long. Story goes my mom told everyone after I was born that I was 21 pounds 7 feet and 13 inches because she is constantly in a dazed and confused kind of state (this went on for about a week until my grandmother smacked some sense into her no joke.)
My parents decided to get married when I was 6 years old, oh joy. If you are wondering why, there was actually a very rational reason for doing so, getting insurance for our family was cheaper once they were married. I was in the damn wedding and hated every minute of it. Approximately 5 years later I helped my dad pick out and purchase a cheap ass engagement ring (which my mother lost and no longer has) we put the ring in the middle of some non stick frying pans that she wanted and wrapped it up for her for Christmas. I believe that same year I got underwear, pogs, and for my big present a gumball machine. Let me just get this out of the way and tell you I despise Christmas, I assume it is because I am still bitter for all the years I would go into school and hear about all the great shit everyone got. While I knew Santa was a hoax.
Growing up I was an asshole. I am still an asshole. I was vulgar and offensive as a child and am now as an adult. The only difference now is I drink, and I drink heavily. I get my love for booze from my father. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen that man wasted. During a vacation to the Cape one year my dear parents got into a bit of a fight while they were raging and consuming mass amounts of alcohol. The story ends with me and my mom driving home the next morning without my father, because he had stormed out that night and vanished into the darkness. When we arrived at home we found him face down on our back porch with his shoes off and swollen feet. Gripped in his stupid little stubby fingers was a citation from the police. According to the officer that gave it to him and let him walk his ass home; my father was crossing the Sagamore Bridge screaming that he was “walking back to Massachusetts”. I personally was very impressed and knew then that my dad had heart and determination. He had set the bar for me and had set it high, and I was up for the challenge.
For the past 8 years I have been partying to the best of my ability. I have had to sacrifice a lot to keep up with my obsession. Money, family, friends, body, dignity, etc. all have been hit hard, but this is a labor of love. It has really taken its toll on my mind and it is starting to get hard to remember all of my journeys through self medication. I will be using this mainly for myself to keep track of all the bullshit I will put myself through. I have no shame and will not hold anything back in my writings, enjoy.
I friggen LOVE you.
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