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I was a teacher & before that a student, I was a world traveler & before that I was too busy to leave the city, I was a photographer, I was a retail clerk, I was child, I was a sperm & an egg, & now I’m unemployed living somewhere in Chicago with my parents, flat broke,  hunting for a job, any job, & keeping a blog in order to appease an old friend & psychologist that is convinced that I have issues opening myself up to people & a little sister that continually buys me journals that I never fill for the holidays.

I always loved history, from a very young age.  Dad used to read me stories about Francis Drake & William Sheridan & Sitting Bull when I was a child & that stuck with me until today.  I like to put the pieces of yesterday together like a little jigsaw puzzle.  I like to look at the past & discover where the turning points are, the little things that led us to the society we live in today.  Sometimes the world changed on the smallest of  footnotes & sometimes the answer is already high lighted for you.  But the devil is in the details & there is always a new piece of the puzzle to figure out.

There are certain things that come with being a historian.  You can’t exactly be a racist & still love history.  It just doesn’t work that way on a mental level.  The same goes with travel, if you love history you love travel.  But then it has that dark side, with a love of history comes a lot of real morbid fascinations.  You have to be able to say, “that’s disgusting, I have to learn more about it,” otherwise you’re just cherry picking the facts & the details will escape you.

On a more morbid side, I have an abnormal obsession with human bones.  It formed in college when I figured out how to look at a skull & determine it’s race.  I like looking at old bones.  Bones tell one hell of a story, they can tell you what a person likely did, they can tell you if that person was a man or a woman, if they did physical labor or sat around on their ass all day.  By looking at bones you can tell if someone died young or old, if they gave birth, if they ate well, if they died a violent death.  Skeletons can tell you a lot about the past & about the individual’s place in it.

So here you go, both of you.  I don’t have a job so I finally have the time to actually do what you tell me to.  You can shut up now.  You should be satisfied.

What else do you want to know?Christ2

2 thoughts on “About

  1. Perhaps you missed your calling as an archeologist. 🙂

    Your ‘About Me’ section makes me think that mine is too simple and boring and should be expanded upon. I too was always interested in history but not to the point of being a historian or even considering it as a major in college. Ancient Greece and Rome always appealed to me and i still long to stand in the Colosseum and soak up the beauty and history until they kick me out. I haven’t travelled outside the US so yeah, couldn’t be a historian.

    I have always been intrigued by my ancestry and over the past few years I have really dived into it. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my ancestors. If my maternal great grandparents never left Ireland and came to New England who knows what would have been. The same goes for my Pepe who initially illegally crossed the border from Quebec ( he was caught, a relative who was a lawyer straightened things out and he eventually came over properly). I gotta admit that I like the badass in him that came over on his terms.

    It’s late and I’m rambling and have to be up at 5:30 so I will stop this insanely long comment. But thanks to you, I will be adding a bit more to my ‘About Me’ section later today.

    – B

    • Thank you. It’s nice to know people actually read the crap I write. It is also a good idea you DIDN’T major in it, hardly any jobs & your degree would be just as worthless as mine are.

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