We spent the spring and summer traveling town to town, setting up at all kinds of events from fairs to grand openings. By the end of July, I was about seven months pregnant, and I was tired. My weariness grew into a feverish condition with side-splitting pain, so the carnival owner's daughter took me to the local emergency room. It was determined that I had appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. I was taken to a larger hospital so they could perform the surgery then monitor me in the obstetrics ward. After surgery, I went to my mom's house to recuperate and Tim rejoined the carnival. Since we were paid daily, and were down one worker, every day away was a blow to our finances. I stayed at my mom's for all of August, but by September I rejoined Tim on the road.
On September 20, Tim and I wanted to sit and talk away from everyone else...we unwisely chose the cab of a semi, and as I climbed in, my water broke. We went to owner of the carnival, and he took us to an emergency room. Even though I was panicky and in some pain, I was aware of one nurse scornfully telling another one "she works for a circus or something." They came and explained that since I didn't have a doctor at that hospital, nor insurance, they would be sending me to a hospital in a larger town nearby that dealt with 'people like me.' My husband and I told them we would sign any kind of release or anything...we were both rather scared about me being in labor...but they called an ambulance to transport me.
The larger hospital proved be be filled with kind and compassionate people, and on September 21, they helped me usher my oldest child, a son, into the world! Tim and I cried and laughed and all seemed well. After being dismissed, we rejoined the carnival to finish the season. I kept noticing that our son had a weak yet persistent cough, so I soon decided to leave the road and stay at my mom's. She noticed he didn't seem very well either, so we took him to a doctor...who promptly sent us to the hospital. One of his lungs seemed deflated, so they sent us on to a children's hospital. They did a scope procedure and discovered that his left lung was not only deflated, but it was also only a third of the size of the right lung. My son spent two weeks in the ICU of that hospital, with Tim coming to join us.
I wish that Tim and I had followed the advice given in 1 Peter 5:7 (Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you) and had relied on the promise given in Psalm 68:19 (Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens), but instead we turned on each other, rather than turning to God and each other. The stress of an ill child, plus financial uncertainty, piled on top of a marriage with an extremely weak foundation, made for a lonely and upsetting time for each of us, and we argued or gave each other the silent treatment rather than talking it out and supporting each other.
Our son was released, with instructions about breathing treatments, heart medication, and caution about having him around crowds. One doctor told us he'd probably never even be able to go to school, because with a smaller lung he would be susceptible to infections if he were exposed to large groups of people. Sobering, indeed! Even though I was worried and sad about his condition, I was relieved that it brought about a final goodbye to traveling with a carnival.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
On the road.....again.....
We didn't stay 'home' long...Tim was antsy and soon found a local carnival for us to travel with for the season (roughly April through October). I wasn't looking forward to this, having just found out that I was pregnant, but Tim had grand plans of making loads of cash. Once again, we gave up a semi-secure home base for the pie-in-the-sky plans of getting rich.
Tim had the gift for talking people into things (obviously!), so he did make a great carnival game operator. He ran the lucrative balloon dart game, and I was placed in the basketball game. Not being one to talk people into things against their will, I wasn't very good at talking people into continuing to lose money for the elusive 'big prize!' The game wasn't impossible to win, just difficult, and those skilled enough to shoot the ball still had to go through various stages, from winning a small prize, trading that in for a medium one, and so on, until they would actually win the 'big one.' The carny name for the biggest stuffed animals is "spoofer," because it kind of spoofs people into playing 'just one more time.'
Our living quarters were built in behind the games. These were designed for the couples, and were a little nicer than bunk-house type of trailer that the single people were assigned to sleep in. We got paid nightly (a third of what we brought in, minus the cost of the prizes that were given out that night), then would have money to buy food with for the next day or so. After really good money-making nights, my husband and I would spring for a much-wanted motel room. Unfortunately, some of the carnies lived day-to-day, eating a little and drinking or buying drugs with the rest of their daily pay. There was guy named Don who was called "McDumpster Don," because he would dig food out of fast food garbage bins and heat his findings up in a crock pot, leaving money for his beer every night.
The carnies we worked and traveled with were interesting people--some did it because they were raised in the carnival and it was the business they knew; some were running or hiding from something; still others were just kind of lost people. In the carnival there was a code of protecting their own, and it was oddly comforting...I sometimes wish Christians would hold to that code as strongly as my carny friends did. There's a carny phrase that you yell out if someone is trying to rob you, hurt you, or generally cause trouble: "Hey Rube!" When the guys heard that, they would jump into action, defending their own.
There were several guys who were sort of the leaders of our rag-tag group, and my husband rubbed them the wrong way, first because he had kind of a bossy, arrogant, and rude way about him, and second, because of how he treated me, often leaving me to fend for myself even as my pregnancy progressed and flirting with girls to get them to play his game. They were protective of me, though, like the big brothers I had always wanted; they gave me the nickname 'Princess,' helped me set up my game when we reached a new town, taught me how to run some of the carnival rides when there weren't any crowds, and even threw a baby shower for me! They often asked what in the world I was doing out on the road, why I was with Tim, etc. They could see the big picture better than I could!
I learned a lot about people as the carnival traveled around Kansas, Oklahoma, and Missouri. To quote the title of an old Depeche Mode song, "people are people!" In every town, people were very similar. There were kind people, judgmental people, and very, very lost people. It would make me sad to watch young ladies hang around the carnies, just looking for some male attention, and it would devastate me to see those same girls straggling away from the carnival trailers early in the morning, used and ignored once again.
There were two times I was most insulted during my time as a carny. Once we were set up in Oklahoma at a dog track grand opening. It was a quarter of a mile from the nearest place to eat, a gas station with a sit-in snack shop area, and none of us had cars (we all had to drive the carnival suburbans and trucks from town to town). I was probably about six months pregnant, hot, tired, hungry, and thirsty, so I did my best to keep up with everyone. A couple of the guys with us had their shirts off, and as we walked into the gas station the clerk told us we couldn't come in because of the 'no shirt' policy. After exchanging some words, she allowed those of us with shirts to come in, so the others waited outside while we bought their food and drinks too. While the guys waited, they observed another customer come in shirtless, make his purchase, and leave with no hassle. When asked about the double-standard, the clerk told us that the other customer was just purchasing something and leaving right away, and she could tell we were coming in to sit down and eat. Hmmmmm!
The other time, we were set up at a small town somewhere in Kansas, and the local police came to the carnival looking for ME! They wanted to question me in connection with some local robberies!! When I asked them why I was being questioned, they said I fit the description of the suspect. I asked if that included blond and pregnant?! My husband assured the police that we were in our trailer all of the previous night, they asked a few questions, then left after telling me they'd be watching me and further investigating.
Some people just saw 'a carny,' not a person, and made all kinds of judgments. These experiences were aggravating, but they helped me learn to see each person as an individual, not a type, color, occupation, etc. "The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
Tim had the gift for talking people into things (obviously!), so he did make a great carnival game operator. He ran the lucrative balloon dart game, and I was placed in the basketball game. Not being one to talk people into things against their will, I wasn't very good at talking people into continuing to lose money for the elusive 'big prize!' The game wasn't impossible to win, just difficult, and those skilled enough to shoot the ball still had to go through various stages, from winning a small prize, trading that in for a medium one, and so on, until they would actually win the 'big one.' The carny name for the biggest stuffed animals is "spoofer," because it kind of spoofs people into playing 'just one more time.'
Our living quarters were built in behind the games. These were designed for the couples, and were a little nicer than bunk-house type of trailer that the single people were assigned to sleep in. We got paid nightly (a third of what we brought in, minus the cost of the prizes that were given out that night), then would have money to buy food with for the next day or so. After really good money-making nights, my husband and I would spring for a much-wanted motel room. Unfortunately, some of the carnies lived day-to-day, eating a little and drinking or buying drugs with the rest of their daily pay. There was guy named Don who was called "McDumpster Don," because he would dig food out of fast food garbage bins and heat his findings up in a crock pot, leaving money for his beer every night.
The carnies we worked and traveled with were interesting people--some did it because they were raised in the carnival and it was the business they knew; some were running or hiding from something; still others were just kind of lost people. In the carnival there was a code of protecting their own, and it was oddly comforting...I sometimes wish Christians would hold to that code as strongly as my carny friends did. There's a carny phrase that you yell out if someone is trying to rob you, hurt you, or generally cause trouble: "Hey Rube!" When the guys heard that, they would jump into action, defending their own.
There were several guys who were sort of the leaders of our rag-tag group, and my husband rubbed them the wrong way, first because he had kind of a bossy, arrogant, and rude way about him, and second, because of how he treated me, often leaving me to fend for myself even as my pregnancy progressed and flirting with girls to get them to play his game. They were protective of me, though, like the big brothers I had always wanted; they gave me the nickname 'Princess,' helped me set up my game when we reached a new town, taught me how to run some of the carnival rides when there weren't any crowds, and even threw a baby shower for me! They often asked what in the world I was doing out on the road, why I was with Tim, etc. They could see the big picture better than I could!
I learned a lot about people as the carnival traveled around Kansas, Oklahoma, and Missouri. To quote the title of an old Depeche Mode song, "people are people!" In every town, people were very similar. There were kind people, judgmental people, and very, very lost people. It would make me sad to watch young ladies hang around the carnies, just looking for some male attention, and it would devastate me to see those same girls straggling away from the carnival trailers early in the morning, used and ignored once again.
There were two times I was most insulted during my time as a carny. Once we were set up in Oklahoma at a dog track grand opening. It was a quarter of a mile from the nearest place to eat, a gas station with a sit-in snack shop area, and none of us had cars (we all had to drive the carnival suburbans and trucks from town to town). I was probably about six months pregnant, hot, tired, hungry, and thirsty, so I did my best to keep up with everyone. A couple of the guys with us had their shirts off, and as we walked into the gas station the clerk told us we couldn't come in because of the 'no shirt' policy. After exchanging some words, she allowed those of us with shirts to come in, so the others waited outside while we bought their food and drinks too. While the guys waited, they observed another customer come in shirtless, make his purchase, and leave with no hassle. When asked about the double-standard, the clerk told us that the other customer was just purchasing something and leaving right away, and she could tell we were coming in to sit down and eat. Hmmmmm!
The other time, we were set up at a small town somewhere in Kansas, and the local police came to the carnival looking for ME! They wanted to question me in connection with some local robberies!! When I asked them why I was being questioned, they said I fit the description of the suspect. I asked if that included blond and pregnant?! My husband assured the police that we were in our trailer all of the previous night, they asked a few questions, then left after telling me they'd be watching me and further investigating.
Some people just saw 'a carny,' not a person, and made all kinds of judgments. These experiences were aggravating, but they helped me learn to see each person as an individual, not a type, color, occupation, etc. "The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
Friday, July 8, 2011
Should've listened to Jeremiah
In Jeremiah 17:5, it says, "This is what the LORD says: 'Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the LORD'." Wow. I was depending on flesh for my strength, in the form of my husband. Someone who had already proved to be dishonest, unreliable, and unrealistic. Dumb! Anyone reading this, I strongly urge you to trust in and depend on the LORD first and foremost!!
Tim would vacillate between acting like he was my protector and telling me he was going to leave. In my state, where I literally had nothing 'solid' in my life, I clung to him out of desperation.
He had an uncanny way of talking people into doing things, so even when our finances were really low and we weren't sure what our next move was, he would come up with some plan and we'd end up making it through yet another day or situation. He traded things, talked restaurant managers and store owners into deals or free things, and who knows what else? But despite this 'gift,' we knew we couldn't aimlessly ride around for much longer. We returned to Kansas, living with some of my friends, to plan our next move. While the situation wasn't ideal, for me it was a little bit of a relief to return to some familiarity.
Tim would vacillate between acting like he was my protector and telling me he was going to leave. In my state, where I literally had nothing 'solid' in my life, I clung to him out of desperation.
He had an uncanny way of talking people into doing things, so even when our finances were really low and we weren't sure what our next move was, he would come up with some plan and we'd end up making it through yet another day or situation. He traded things, talked restaurant managers and store owners into deals or free things, and who knows what else? But despite this 'gift,' we knew we couldn't aimlessly ride around for much longer. We returned to Kansas, living with some of my friends, to plan our next move. While the situation wasn't ideal, for me it was a little bit of a relief to return to some familiarity.
Midways and Highways
Arriving in the Phoenix area, we found where the carnival was set up...at a flea market. The ever-promised state fair was yet again, not happening for awhile, and this carnival was set up at the flea market just to make ends meet in the mean time. We joined in, me assisting my husband as he ran their balloon dart game. It wasn't a good place for carnival games to be set up, kind of in a retirement/RV park area, so the owners decided to shut down at the flea market. Tim and I moved on from Phoenix within a week or two.
We began going town to town, using the aforementioned Amusement Business newpaper/magazine as our guide. We finally hooked up with a smaller carnival and worked at a few reservations with them. Tim worked in a balloon dart game and I worked in the cotton candy wagon. Wow, what a hot, sticky job, but I digress......
Being on reservations was a new experience for me, and it was very eye-opening. We met a lot of nice, hospitable people--the most memorable being when we first tried to meet up with the carnival. We were asking around in a restaurant about the carnival coming to town and found out they weren't arriving until the following day. As we sat down for a small supper, a nice couple sitting next to us struck up a good conversation. The husband was a Native American artist, and he invited us over to their home to see his paintings. They were incredible! So many times I've wished I could remember his name so I could find some of his artwork. We asked about local motels, but they insisted we stay in their extra room.
Other experiences weren't so good, and it really made me see the ill-effects of alcoholism more closely than I ever had. As soon as the midway would close for the night, we would quickly ride to our sleeping quarters as the police were breaking up fights, arresting people, etc. Once, as we got off work, we couldn't find our motorcycle. A drunk guy nearby heard us ranting about it and told us he saw some guys pushing it down a hill, pointing off in the distance. We went to a police car to report it, but they were dealing with a man who had just been stabbed, so we had three other guys we worked with come with us to track it down. Just down the hill, we could see a few guys trying to push-start it, yelled at them, and they ran off. We recovered the motorcycle, but it was sort of banged up and never ran quite right after that.
The nightly dangers got to be a bit much for us, so we left that carnival and found another that was very small, run by a nice married couple. They soon decided to park for the winter, however, so after my husband did some odd jobs for them, it was time to leave once again. We then spent some time in the Laughlin, Nevada area, living off of change that people left in slot machines or trades my husband made with some of our few possessions, eating cheap buffets, and sleeping in a tent. I can't express how disorienting this life was, piled on top of the things that already had shaken me to my foundation. While I remember details, like the Native American artist we met and the motorcycle being stolen, I mostly just remember feeling like I was lost in a blurry haze.
We began going town to town, using the aforementioned Amusement Business newpaper/magazine as our guide. We finally hooked up with a smaller carnival and worked at a few reservations with them. Tim worked in a balloon dart game and I worked in the cotton candy wagon. Wow, what a hot, sticky job, but I digress......
Being on reservations was a new experience for me, and it was very eye-opening. We met a lot of nice, hospitable people--the most memorable being when we first tried to meet up with the carnival. We were asking around in a restaurant about the carnival coming to town and found out they weren't arriving until the following day. As we sat down for a small supper, a nice couple sitting next to us struck up a good conversation. The husband was a Native American artist, and he invited us over to their home to see his paintings. They were incredible! So many times I've wished I could remember his name so I could find some of his artwork. We asked about local motels, but they insisted we stay in their extra room.
Other experiences weren't so good, and it really made me see the ill-effects of alcoholism more closely than I ever had. As soon as the midway would close for the night, we would quickly ride to our sleeping quarters as the police were breaking up fights, arresting people, etc. Once, as we got off work, we couldn't find our motorcycle. A drunk guy nearby heard us ranting about it and told us he saw some guys pushing it down a hill, pointing off in the distance. We went to a police car to report it, but they were dealing with a man who had just been stabbed, so we had three other guys we worked with come with us to track it down. Just down the hill, we could see a few guys trying to push-start it, yelled at them, and they ran off. We recovered the motorcycle, but it was sort of banged up and never ran quite right after that.
The nightly dangers got to be a bit much for us, so we left that carnival and found another that was very small, run by a nice married couple. They soon decided to park for the winter, however, so after my husband did some odd jobs for them, it was time to leave once again. We then spent some time in the Laughlin, Nevada area, living off of change that people left in slot machines or trades my husband made with some of our few possessions, eating cheap buffets, and sleeping in a tent. I can't express how disorienting this life was, piled on top of the things that already had shaken me to my foundation. While I remember details, like the Native American artist we met and the motorcycle being stolen, I mostly just remember feeling like I was lost in a blurry haze.
Judging Not
Wow, my aunt, uncle, and cousins really stepped up, trying to help Tim and I. Here we were, telling an odd story of sudden marriage and a job-plan gone awry....and there was no head-shaking, tsk-tsking, or finger-pointing. My aunt and uncle allowed us to stay in their home, as they were house-sitting elsewhere. They gave Tim the job of painting their shop and helped me find a job in a sandwich shop. They heard of a man who was moving and would give us all of his furniture in exchange for us cleaning his home. Love in action, let me tell you!
Tim still had that restless, hiding, gotta hit the road mindset, however. Disregarding of all of the help my family gave us, he bought a cheap motorcycle as soon as they paid him for the painting job, and told me we were going to head to Phoenix, where he'd read of another carnival that would be good to join in time for a big state fair. We left my relatives with piles of furniture in their shop, thanked them for everything (wow, what a thank you), and left the place I'd come to feel of as a haven in my new, weird life.
Tim still had that restless, hiding, gotta hit the road mindset, however. Disregarding of all of the help my family gave us, he bought a cheap motorcycle as soon as they paid him for the painting job, and told me we were going to head to Phoenix, where he'd read of another carnival that would be good to join in time for a big state fair. We left my relatives with piles of furniture in their shop, thanked them for everything (wow, what a thank you), and left the place I'd come to feel of as a haven in my new, weird life.
The Walls Come Tumbling Down
Matthew 7:26: But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand.
When we disregard God's Words, we shouldn't be surprised at bad consequences. Without a well-thought out plan and barely any money, Tim and I flew into LAX. Once there, Tim got ahold of a more recent amusement/entertainment magazine and found out that the big event he'd been banking on opened the following month. Up until that point, we were blindly following this barely-formed plan...this now became the point of no return! We were snapping at each other, trying to brainstorm different things to do or people we knew. I knew one of my aunts lived somewhere around San Diego, so Tim insisted that I call her to see if we could stay with her for awhile. How awkward! I hadn't seen or talked to my aunt in probably a year, and now he wanted me to cold-call her?! He insistently demanded that I call her, so I did....collect....she sounded pleased to hear from me and surprised to hear that I'd just gotten married! Ever so graciously, she agreed that we could come visit her and her husband. We had just enough money to buy bus tickets from LA to San Diego.
On the bus ride down to San Diego, my world crashed all around me. Until the point of us being stuck in LA without a plan, Tim and I had been living in a fantasy, so we both felt really happy and carefree. After the bubble burst, it really burst. Tim seemed so moody and upset as we rode the bus down the freeway...then he said he had to tell me something very important. And it turned out to be something......very important......
He told me his name wasn't really Tim Harrison, the name by which I knew him and the last name I'd just taken through marriage! He said he had been on parole (crazily, in the state of California), and rather than checking in, he'd hit the road and left the state. As he hitch-hiked around and stayed at various places, he had stayed somewhere where a 'Tim Harrison' was, and saw his social security card. 'Tim' memorized the social security number, then took on the name for his own. He'd been living like that for well over a year.
Wow. Here I was, married to someone I had no business being married to, didn't even really know, and he turned out not to even be who he said he was! And, I was in California with next to nothing, a sad and literal 'I'm not in Kansas anymore' situation...heading down to my aunt's house, with no plan. I entered an almost sleep-walking state at that point. I felt very, very empty and very, very lost!
When we disregard God's Words, we shouldn't be surprised at bad consequences. Without a well-thought out plan and barely any money, Tim and I flew into LAX. Once there, Tim got ahold of a more recent amusement/entertainment magazine and found out that the big event he'd been banking on opened the following month. Up until that point, we were blindly following this barely-formed plan...this now became the point of no return! We were snapping at each other, trying to brainstorm different things to do or people we knew. I knew one of my aunts lived somewhere around San Diego, so Tim insisted that I call her to see if we could stay with her for awhile. How awkward! I hadn't seen or talked to my aunt in probably a year, and now he wanted me to cold-call her?! He insistently demanded that I call her, so I did....collect....she sounded pleased to hear from me and surprised to hear that I'd just gotten married! Ever so graciously, she agreed that we could come visit her and her husband. We had just enough money to buy bus tickets from LA to San Diego.
On the bus ride down to San Diego, my world crashed all around me. Until the point of us being stuck in LA without a plan, Tim and I had been living in a fantasy, so we both felt really happy and carefree. After the bubble burst, it really burst. Tim seemed so moody and upset as we rode the bus down the freeway...then he said he had to tell me something very important. And it turned out to be something......very important......
He told me his name wasn't really Tim Harrison, the name by which I knew him and the last name I'd just taken through marriage! He said he had been on parole (crazily, in the state of California), and rather than checking in, he'd hit the road and left the state. As he hitch-hiked around and stayed at various places, he had stayed somewhere where a 'Tim Harrison' was, and saw his social security card. 'Tim' memorized the social security number, then took on the name for his own. He'd been living like that for well over a year.
Wow. Here I was, married to someone I had no business being married to, didn't even really know, and he turned out not to even be who he said he was! And, I was in California with next to nothing, a sad and literal 'I'm not in Kansas anymore' situation...heading down to my aunt's house, with no plan. I entered an almost sleep-walking state at that point. I felt very, very empty and very, very lost!
I've Been Working on the Railroad....
When I think back on the whole course of actions and decisions Tim and I took, we really selfishly railroaded over what anyone else thought or felt. He goaded his friend into leaving their carnival jobs to return home with me, when I'm sure Brad would have much rather stayed where they were working. By the time Tim and I came up with the whole marriage-then-onto-Cali plan, Brad had had enough...he agreed to be the best man, but then he was hitting the road for himself. I never knew what happened to him after that, but he comes to mind once in awhile. He was a very unique character!
I railroaded people too: First my friends, having them drive us around, making them accept these two carneys they didn't know, probably freaking them out with my sudden marriage plans; then my family--making them either accept that I was getting married or just not be a part of it. It makes me really sad when I think of the conversations people tried to have with me in order to reason me out of my plans...they loved me, but I didn't accept their love or wisdom.
A church wedding was thrown together; later, looking at the wedding photos, I can see a 'well, God's gonna get us through this' look on all of my family and friends' faces! My mom and dad gave us plane tickets to California for a wedding gift, not because they wanted us to go, but because we were planning to get there possibly by hitch-hiking, so my parents wanted me to get there alive if I was so determined to get there! Our reason for going was that Tim had big plans for making it rich with some big carnival at a major fair out in California. After all, he'd read about it in some entertainment magazine somewhere...a quick look at Proverbs 15:22 might have helped: "Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed."
We flew off to California, with a total lack of counsel!
I railroaded people too: First my friends, having them drive us around, making them accept these two carneys they didn't know, probably freaking them out with my sudden marriage plans; then my family--making them either accept that I was getting married or just not be a part of it. It makes me really sad when I think of the conversations people tried to have with me in order to reason me out of my plans...they loved me, but I didn't accept their love or wisdom.
A church wedding was thrown together; later, looking at the wedding photos, I can see a 'well, God's gonna get us through this' look on all of my family and friends' faces! My mom and dad gave us plane tickets to California for a wedding gift, not because they wanted us to go, but because we were planning to get there possibly by hitch-hiking, so my parents wanted me to get there alive if I was so determined to get there! Our reason for going was that Tim had big plans for making it rich with some big carnival at a major fair out in California. After all, he'd read about it in some entertainment magazine somewhere...a quick look at Proverbs 15:22 might have helped: "Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed."
We flew off to California, with a total lack of counsel!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Pathways
The Bible has a lot to say about the paths we choose to take. God's intention is for us to follow His ways (Psalm 119:105--Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path), but rebellious human nature causes some to try to order their own steps (Job 24:13--There are those who rebel against the light, who do not know its ways or stay in its paths).
In high school, my parents monitored my curfew, activities, and friends pretty well, so I didn't really do anything wild or 'wrong,' but my attitude was really toxic at home. Once I left home for college, I made stupid behavior choices. As Ecclesiastic 1:9 says, there is nothing new under the sun, so I didn't invent any new rebellious ways, but I really knew better. I even had that unsettled, deep-down feeling that I was doing wrong but tried my best to ignore it. After a year of college (and dumb behavior), I met a guy who caught my attention.
He worked for a carnival that was in town for the county fair. The guy I liked had chosen to leave me hanging and go to the fair with another girl, so when this guy running one of the games started flirting with me, I thought it might make the guy I liked jealous. We met up after the carnival closed, and we spent the rest of the week hanging around together. It didn't seem to bother the guy I liked, but by then I had started liking 'carnival guy!' When he left town, I was so sad! He called to see if I'd come visit him in the next town, so a friend and I drove to some other little town to meet up with him. He and his friend asked if they could return back home with my friend and I, so I dumbly agreed, of course.
While restlessly killing time at my house with his friend, "Tim the Carney" kept trying to talk me into hitting the road with them. Since I was so unhappy and empty in my current state, I was tempted to go, but I told him my parents would kill me if I left town with some guy. He (oh so cleverly) pointed out that they couldn't complain if I left town with some guy that I was married to...I bought the reasoning, and two weeks later, we were married and California-bound. Different members of my family tried to talk me out of my plan, but it made such perfect sense to me at the time, and I began to pin my hopes on Tim being the answer, the filler, for my emptiness. Silly me......
In high school, my parents monitored my curfew, activities, and friends pretty well, so I didn't really do anything wild or 'wrong,' but my attitude was really toxic at home. Once I left home for college, I made stupid behavior choices. As Ecclesiastic 1:9 says, there is nothing new under the sun, so I didn't invent any new rebellious ways, but I really knew better. I even had that unsettled, deep-down feeling that I was doing wrong but tried my best to ignore it. After a year of college (and dumb behavior), I met a guy who caught my attention.
He worked for a carnival that was in town for the county fair. The guy I liked had chosen to leave me hanging and go to the fair with another girl, so when this guy running one of the games started flirting with me, I thought it might make the guy I liked jealous. We met up after the carnival closed, and we spent the rest of the week hanging around together. It didn't seem to bother the guy I liked, but by then I had started liking 'carnival guy!' When he left town, I was so sad! He called to see if I'd come visit him in the next town, so a friend and I drove to some other little town to meet up with him. He and his friend asked if they could return back home with my friend and I, so I dumbly agreed, of course.
While restlessly killing time at my house with his friend, "Tim the Carney" kept trying to talk me into hitting the road with them. Since I was so unhappy and empty in my current state, I was tempted to go, but I told him my parents would kill me if I left town with some guy. He (oh so cleverly) pointed out that they couldn't complain if I left town with some guy that I was married to...I bought the reasoning, and two weeks later, we were married and California-bound. Different members of my family tried to talk me out of my plan, but it made such perfect sense to me at the time, and I began to pin my hopes on Tim being the answer, the filler, for my emptiness. Silly me......
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