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.