The past, present, and future goals

The following is part of a multi-part series examining my past, present, and future. The columns located in here will be the first "Come Again" columns to be archived in its history due to the significance of what I'm doing. Part 1 will focus on my past and how it shaped me. Part 2 will focus on the present as to where I'm at right now. Part 3 will focus on my future goals, dreams, and ambitions. Be warned that the columns may be quite long.

Part 1 - The past (continued)

Senior Year and Graduation

My senior year was memorable in a lot of ways, some good, most bad. It was a very stressful year, filled with a lot of ups and downs, the kind of year that I like to avoid, to be honest. I did poorly in school, but it was due to a lot of distractions outside of school.

One thing that began rearing its ugly head was that I didn't do very well with distractions, something that's continued to this day. If something was bothering me at home, it carried over into my schoolwork. Sure, I was feeling the urge to get out of school as much as the next person, but it was compounded by things going on at home.

I saw my dad continue to deteriorate before my eyes. I had always known of his drinking problem and of his drug use, but I didn't know how serious the drug problem became until I saw him walking around with a crack rock. Now, being 18 and seeing this in my dad's hand was a bit disturbing. The man that had once been my role model was a shadow of what he could've been and I was able to witness the whole thing.

The fear that extended from him using drugs was beyond what you might realize. For one, my dad was a huge racist. He hated black people with a passion, yet black people would call our house at strange hours looking for him. Now, when your dad is racist and blacks are calling for him, it can't be good. Try sleeping at night knowing that the equation includes drugs, blacks, and a racist father. It's not a good mix and we were all waiting for the night when someone would show up and shoot the house up.

Now try going to sleep with just that on your mind. It isn't easy to do and not something I'd recommend. The worst part is there was really one one teacher who seemed to understand what I was dealing with. She was the only one I talked to about what was going on, and only because she knew something was bothering me. I had shown creativity in her class with what I was writing, but seemed distracted. It's no coincidence that her class was the one I did best in, and no coincidence that it was my honors english class.

Writing became more and more of a release than it ever had been at this time. I was able to release the stress my dad was causing, the schoolwork was causing, and concern for my friend James.

It was a turbulent time for me, a time that should've been much better than it was.

This site became an extension of me, revealing what I was feeling, what I was scared of, and showing just how much cynicism I had developed. Read any entry from this time of my life and you'll see what I'm talking about. I may have even been a bit bitter, miffed that my senior year was crumbling around me, nothing to be done to stop it.

I hid how I felt from others though. There was no one who knew how I really felt except those who read my site. To others, I was just another shy, quiet guy who had some quirks about him. There was probably no comprehension at how stressed I was, how unhappy I really was. I never showed it. I had learned how to do that a few years earlier and used it to my advantage. At least it seemed that way. Now it just seems stupid.

It wasn't all doom and gloom though. I didn't have many friends, but the ones I had were great. There was Tricia, who I became closer to than I would've ever imagined. There were others as well, those who embraced who I was and got a chance to see how I could be. I had some good times in high school to take my mind off all the things that were going on at home.

There was the trip to the Natural History Museum that my ecology class took. By that point in the year, I had given up on the class, didn't need it, didn't care about it, nor did I care for the teacher, who didn't care for me either. I had fun in the class though, specifically because of Tricia. I was in a group with her, some of her friends, and her mother, and had the time of my life at the museum.

I made comments about everything, made people laugh constantly, and may have been seen in a new light by those who didn't really know much about me. It may have even been at that point that the shell I was enclosed in began to chip away, if just a little bit. It wasn't much, but it was something to grow from.

I didn't go to prom for a multitude of reasons. One was that I had to work.

I had gotten the job at Revco September 1, 1997 while still a junior in high school. I had applied in Brunswick and ended up getting hired at Strongsville. It was where I met my best friend, Mike, and where I began my less-than illustrious career at CVS (which bought out Revco).

The night of prom, I was working a double shift. The reason? Brunswick and Strongsville's proms were on the same night. All the people that worked at the store were young and from both cities. It left me as the odd man out, not that I had a reason to go then anyway. I wouldn't have had a date, and knowing how much of a social misfit I still was, probably wouldn't have had a lot of fun either.

It is the one thing I ultimately regret about high school.

The end of the year was upon us though. I was going to cut it close, but I was going to graduate. When I found out for sure, I felt like I had finally accomplished something worthwhile in my life. The string of successive failures in my life was finally coming to an end. I felt like I could finally achieve something special.

The day of graduation was June 6, 1999. It was quite possibly the highlight of my high school years. The feeling of sitting amongst 400+ people who were with you was incredible. Most of them I had known since I was in elementary school, others just a few years, if that. I remember saying goodbye to people and feeling sad. I remember Tricia looking at me, giving me a big smile, and hugging me. I remember everything from that day.

I remember the feeling I got from receiving my diploma. The feeling I got driving back home realizing that I had done it. The feeling of joy. It was something that I cherished.

I wish the rest of the day had gone so well.

My grandparents were happy for me, my mom was happy for me, my sister was happy for me. My dad? He only seemed content to make an issue out of something. I don't remember that night at all anymore. It's probably best that way.

The summer was remarkably quiet. I basically worked, continuing to learn the pharmacy under the watch of Steve, who would ultimately become the father I never had. He also treated me like a son, which helped me embrace the things that he had to say. To this day he remains someone I look up to, someone who embodies how to do things the right way.

Tri-C

It seems incredulous to say this, but when I began the fall semester at Tri-C in 1999, I had never kissed a girl before. By the time that semester was over, that would change and I would know what it would be like to be used.

It was innocent enough at first. I was taking another honors english course. This girl, Nikki, was in the class with me. I just remember walking to my car one day after class had let out and feeling someone grab my shoulder. It was her. Looking back on it, she wasn't really that remarkable of a girl. She was cute, and she seemed nice enough, so when she said she wanted to hang out with me, I did.

I remember walking through Parmatown with her, but that's about it. I don't remember what stores we went into or what we might have talked about. I do remember eating with her in the food court and her remarking that the girl at Mr. Hero's seemed to be staring at me, a tactic to get me to blush, and it worked. It was when we were leaving that the most memorable thing happened.

Somehow it had been revealed that I had never been kissed before. Needless to say, I didn't anticipate what happened next. We said goodbye, hugged, and before I realized what was happening, I was getting the sloppiest kiss of my life. Now, I had never been kissed before, yet this girl went all out with it. I remember feeling, well, absolutely shocked. I had never been kissed and now I had a girl's tongue in my mouth. That will leave you stunned, guaranteed.

In the end, there were a lot of firsts with her, some good, some bad, some I'd like to forget. In the end, I basically felt like I had been used by her to get back at her ex-boyfriend, although why was beyond me. She was using him to get clothes when she wanted them, and really anything else that she wanted. In other words, she was the kind of manipulative person that I can't stand.

The rest of the semester at Tri-C was nothing to write home about. Things at home though, well, that was a different ballgame.

The coffee table incident

In mid-December, things began to go south again with my dad. He had been tolerable for a short while, letting us live our lives. Something happened that changed things forever though.

I remember the night before the incident writing that something was going to happen (check the archives in My Life around December 1999), that I could just feel it. My dad had been acting stranger than usual.

The next night, it all went down. My dad wouldn't leave my mom alone, in the end, kicking a coffee table over and kicking her. The police came out, he was arrested, and this time, my mom wasn't going to drop the charges. He would end up in jail for a few months, which was all the time that we needed.

The search for a house had begun before that, but kicked into high gear at that point in time. We couldn't allow ourselves to be in that situation again. The search would take upwards of two months and range from all locations in the area.

We eventually settled on a house in Cleveland on the near west-side. It was in a nice neighborhood and seemed like it would be a good place to try and start things over. By the time March, 2000 rolled along, we were moved in and ready to start things over.

Living in the city

Living in Cleveland was going to prove to be different from living in the suburbs, but not so much as I had thought. The drive to work was longer, but it was going to be easier to get to school and everywhere else I wanted to go. As it turned out, the location was really good. Minutes from all major highways, major spots for entertainment, and the downtown region meant I could get anywhere in a relative hurry.

However, people in the city aren't nearly as friendly or gracious as they can be in the suburbs. Whereas we knew our neighbors in Brunswick very well, we really didn't associate with our new neighbors much. It was a combination of unfamiliarity and uneasiness towards the neighbors that made relations difficult.

In short, people in the city don't care much about you or what you're doing. People run lights more, aren't very keen on letting others cross the road, and generally show more road rage than the people I used to live around.

It was dog eat dog in the city and if you didn't adapt quickly, you'd be turned to dust.

It wasn't all bad though. The diversity of people is much greater than in the suburbs and most races seem to get along just fine. It was actually a good experience learning a new neighborhood and seeing new people go by. I didn't think it would be a new chance to meet new girls, but what harm could come of that thought?

On the job

Transition at home was also in line with transition at work. At the end of 1999, my favorite pharmacist Steve was transferred to Berea to help out. It was supposed to be temporary, but ended up being permanent. Lost was more than a pharmacist though. I lost someone who had become a father to me, someone who had mentored me in many ways, taught me the things my dad never did. He also was the one who trained me in the pharmacy.

I lost that father figure for a brief period of time, but wasn't forgotten by Steve. Not long after the move became permanent, Steve was helping at my store when he approached me about transferring to Berea with him. The notion of leaving a comfort zone was something I'd have to get over, but at the same time, the appeal at working in a new environment alongside Steve was tempting. I mulled it over for several months, weighing the pros and cons, asking those around me what they thought, before deciding that I wanted to do it.

At the same time, I was becoming real cozy with a girl named Jacqui that I worked with. While this would end up as yet another girl that didn't work out in the end, I won't deny that I had fun with her at work and outside of work. I do regret losing track of her, but it was how things were meant to be.

The decision to transfer was approaching quick. Steve was continuing to ask me to do it and the desire to be back working with him was ultimately the deciding factor. He meant that much to me as a father figure.

How could I put him in that light? This is the man that taught me how to tie a tie. He helped me move a desk that we were just going to throw out at the store to my house. He was always asking me how things were at home, how I was feeling, and knew when I wasn't at my best. He was also someone I could talk sports with, joke around with, and basically felt like a dad to me.

I had to do this. It wasn't going to be easy though. Lenny, my manager, was not going to let me transfer without finding a replacement. In a matter of three years, I had become invaluable to the store as both a pharmacy tech and a shift supervisor. I was full-time, reliable, and willing to do what was needed. I wasn't just being replaced in the pharmacy, I was being replaced as a front store employee as well.

Tom, the other pharmacist, also reacted harshly, but eventually realized that I was set on this. Professionally, I used the reasons of the store being closer to home, better for future advancement, and a chance to be a lead tech. Inside, I wanted to be working with Steve and see how I would do in a much busier environment.

It took most of the summer, but a replacement was hired, training began, and it was finally determined that I was going to be transferred, but not until the new girl was capable of doing the work.

November 4, 2000 was my last day working in Strongsville. I still remember the feelings I had that day. I felt both excited and terrified, happy and sad as the day progressed. Excited for a new opportunity, terrified of what lay ahead in Berea. Happy that I was working with Steve again, sad that I was leaving Mike, Tom, Lenny, and everyone else.

I remember looking back at the store as I left, wondering if I'd ever work there again. I wondered how a lot of things were going to be.

On November 5, I worked in Berea. New store, new pharmacists, new coworkers, and a new opportunity. Did I know that four years later I'd still be there? At the time, it hadn't crossed my mind, yet it was a bumpy start. Regina, a night pharmacist there, wasn't keen on me. She and Steve weren't on friendly terms and since I was over because of Steve, I was the enemy as well.

As time went on, that changed. All it took was me bailing Regina out of a tough spot one time and I was suddenly a favorite of hers. I quickly moved up on everyone's favorites list as I showed I was capable of working in the environment no matter where I was. I quickly mastered the store and was becoming just as reliable there as I had been at Strongsville.

A lot may have changed over the years at the store (all chronicled in My Life), but I've remained a constant.

In closing

There is indeed a whole lot I could write about. I could write more about the changes I've undergone, the relationships I've been through, the experiences I've had, but I want to save some of those for when I talk about the present as I will be including the last three years in those columns.

Up next, I'll take a look at how the past shaped who I was, and still am, in many ways, as the series of columns on my past, present, and future continues.