Beginning to End: Modeling

My parents fell in love during college - They partied a lot, accidentally made me in the process - Married within a few months, moved into the first available place they could afford: A trailer park. Mom was Nurse - Dad was an engineer - My family was always short on cash - But I was a happy kid, I grew up in a small community, tight knit, next to a horse farm, had tons of friends.....

When I was seven, I realized my father was a heavy alcoholic... Not abusive to us.. He was abusive to himself - He had Peter Pan syndrome, refused to admit he was no longer a child...  He would balance his parental responsibilities with crazy out-of-control parties on the weekends - A functional alcholic - He went to work every day, paid the bills, attended parent-teacher conferences, coached my brother's soccer team (one of the best in the area) - but weekends, he would call up his buds, roll a few joints, sit at the bar until 2am....

I have so many "drunk dad" stories, I could, sadly,  keep you entertained for hours.... When I was eight years old - My dad was drinking with his friends, in the middle of snowstorm, somewhere in the woods... I was all dressed up in a fluffy pink snowsuit... The cops showed up (not sure why). And Dad thought it would be funny to outrun the cops, drunk out of his mind, on his snowmobile.... yep... with me on the back - "Hold on TIGHT! Police can't catch us.... just hold on!" We hit 85.... drunkenly... in a snowstorm.... through the woods.... he was right, the cops did not catch us  (that time)...

By the time I was 16, he had nine DWIs - He crashed cars, crashed motorcylces, ran from the police over and over again - One December, my father drove our *only working* car onto an icey lake... it sunk... My mom knew some of the police by name, some of them felt bad for us - We had helicopters circling the house with those bright spotlights more nights than I care to remember...  Dad spent a lot of time in and out of jail, usually for a week or two at a time - He had a great lawyer who used to hang out at our house a lot during the holidays...

When I turned 17 and my brother was 15... We took Dad out to dinner. Sat him down and told him that while we loved him tons, he needed to find balance in his life... It was our first conversation with him as almost-adults... He got very quiet. Very quiet. The next morning, he joined AA - It was the first time that I had ever watched my father try to better himself in a serious way - He posted quotes around the house, he read a lot of inspirational books, he stopped drinking for almost a full year....

But, alcoholics work in cycles (never forget that) - When I turned 18, he got drunk in Pennsylvania, went to find a bathroom, fell down a flight of cement stairs instead - He cracked his head open on some concrete, ended up in ICU....Died a few days later from brain damage.... Mom had to pull the plug...

My little brother vowed never to drink after that night (and he has not, he has been very successful in his life) - Drastically, I did the complete opposite.... I started partying heavily, out of control and often - I would party so hard, I would black out for days... It was a very dark time in my life.

19 years old, I was accepted to SUNY Fredonioa - I was wild back then... I had something to prove. I wanted to experience everything the world could offer... back then.... it was mostly sex. My best friend, Julie, was trying to have sex with every letter in the alphabet - We partied together constantly - We slept at frat houses, we knew everyone... On and off, I dated an abusive heroine addict named Matt - He would pee blood from time to time. That year was the year, that I emerged from a drunken blackout, topless, on the side of a freeway (who knows how I got there or where I was) - That was the year I woke up, drunk at 3am, blue from falling asleep in a snow drift - Someone picked me up and carried me to my dorm room that night... still have no idea who that person was... they probably saved my life...

I didn't like myself much when I was 19...

Grade-wise, I did better than most of my friends (Julie ended up with a .6).... I was near a 3.0.... but towards the end of the semester, I called my mom and told her I was finished - "I want to come back home and figure things out..." She was upset, tried to talk me out of it...  But I was done - College can be a wonderful thing, it can also be a terrible thing when you are not ready for it.... Obviously, 2003 was not my year....

Not sure when I decided to volunteer overseas, but I remember preparing for it... I was learning Swahili on tape - I needed A LOT of money for plane tickets and supplies - To make that kind of money - I worked all kinds of jobs - Telemarketing, pizza girl,yard work for old people, a Secretary, a promo girl (SpongeBob!) - I worked for a temp agency, painted murals for kid's bedrooms, beaded jewelry for craft shows....

$8,000 later - I Flew to Tanzania. Joined Cross Cultural Solutions near Kilimanjaro... In Moshi, I worked in a kindergarten, helping teach English and math - School was held on the second floor of a church. 58 kids in the class, one teacher, and myself - Every night a herd of children would follow me home - We would sing songs as the sun set... They had machete's (these itty bitty kindergarten kids) - I would hold them as they cut Mangos from the trees - On the weekends, some of the volunteers and I would go out and explore - We visited the Ngorogoro (the crater of life), the Serengeti, a group of us climbed halfway up Kili without a guide.... I planned on staying for eight months but it didn't work out that way -Ended up with Malaria, curled up on a filthy bathroom floor, puking and puking and puking - Hospitals in Tanzania would freak anyone out... flies, kittens, cockroaches everywhere.... That year, I was 20 years old and I was flying back home....

When I returned from Africa, Mom had a boyfriend - I enrolled in a community college .... hung out with some friends... got decent grades.... semester ended... I decided to travel again...

Using my Cross Cultural credits for Africa, I left for Guatemala City .... Guatemala was amazing! I worked in a catholic school / orphanage with a whole bunch of Stern-Spanish speaking nuns - I spent most of my time working with the orphanage children, who, although, attended the same school as the public children.... did not get as much attention.  Most of them acted out in class, misbehaved, starved for attention... The volunteers in Guatemala came from all over the wolrd: Columbia, Spain, Australia, South Africa.... Some of us would pair up for weekend trips... During that time I visited Antigua, Lake Atilan, the Mayan Ruins (Tikal) - We hiked to waterfalls, visited small communities....It was hard to return home.... One of my students and I sent packages back and forth for years... She must be 16 now...

When I returned from Guatemala... I, again enrolled in college... I met Patrick that year.... I was dating several people at the time, but it was the first time in my life, I found myself sitting next to the phone, waiting for a phone call - Long distance swimmer for Syracuse University - Tall - Sexy - Arms that could wrap around me twice... Always busy with friends and swimming, high on life, always in a great mood - Also the year I attained my first paid modeling job - Patrick packed up and left me for the summer.... That was summer that I fell in love with Jay...

Jay was a lot like my Dad, which is probably why I loved him so much. He was a few years older than me. He worked hard for his money, broke his back on construction - Loved me utterly - Partied harder than he should have on weekends, always much harder than I would have liked him too. Between his drug addiction and his smothering jealousy, Jay and I did not work out...

When Pat returned to college, a few months later, we started dating again... By then, my modeling career was starting to take off - I was getting paid work in NYC every month - Hoping on trains, traveling alone, sleeping at Matthew's apartment, working with all kinds of fun and exciting photographers... making really good money..... That was the year that I graduated with my Associates in General Studies (someday I hope to apply it towards a real degree) - That was the year that my very conservative mom found out about my naked-modeling-job and gave me an ultimatum.... "Quit your job or move out of my house..."

Not being one to be told what to do.... And not sure where to live - I sold all my materialistic things on Ebay and I moved my life into my car... Why not? Internet modeling can be found in every state in the US, right? Doesn't it just make sense to live on the road and see the States?

I remember driving away from my house, terrified - Very much alone..... But, also I felt alive... I felt Real.... I felt ready to live my life.

SO -that is how this blog started.... many many years ago, I decided to do a roadtrip around the country, all by myself, living off of nude modeling -  I drove around the country for three full years.... sleeping on couches and camping in National Parks - Sometimes I traveled with friends, sometimes with strangers, most of the time.....  I was by myself..... Yup..... This is my blog.