I figured that I would start a new "series" for my blog. I can only think of two people that read this blog and I'm not sure how interesting this will be, but I'll give it a go and see what comes of it.

I started my college career like most other seventeen years olds from Podunk, Oklahoma. I knew that education was the only thing that going to get me out of the backwards ass town I was in, but I had no idea what I wanted to do. I started out with Psychology. I soon realized that I wasn't learning anything. I had only gained the ability to judge myself and others more harshly. Then decided I would follow my dream and go to law school. That went no where. Not for lack of motivation, but because I was informed that there were too many lawyers in Tulsa and I would finish my post-college days chasing ambulances or working for the district attorney's office. Neither of these were things that I was willing to do.

So I did what any other college student would do: Drank. In took the number of hours required for a degree, yet couldn't pass a single class. I drank so much, I failed Drama Theatre. I drank so much that the state of Oklahoma forced me to take a two year "leave of absence."

(That chapter is for another day...)

When I finally came home, I had lost everyone's trust. My own Grandparents refused to give me money for fear that I would spend it on earning DUI number two. They suggested I find a job at a call center or fast food joint and claw my way to lower middle class. They felt that someone with a record like mine couldn't aim much higher.

To add insult to injury, I was on Academic Suspension until I could bring my G.P.A up to at least a 2.0. (How sad is that?! I had managed to bring my average down to a 1.1.) I was banned from dong the only thing that I ever enjoyed. I had no money, no real job, and I had lost faith in myself. Everything that meant something to me had been stripped away. Ashamed and hopeless, I did the only thing I knew to do: I surrounded myself with low-lifes and poured a round of shots.

I refuse to lie to the world. I had a blast. I worked maybe twelve hours a week and partied about 42. I became an local superstar. People knew my name, at least. I couldn't walk into a bar, grocery store, or club without being recognized. At the time, I thought any attention was good attention. I thought that being the life of the party was something wonderful. Instead, I had become a joke to the other low-lifes.