My start on this big ball

I started this blog to let out all these random thoughts that clog my mind.
And in turn letting them out ,show just one person that they are not alone in this crazy fast paced world.

I was that kid who the others would say "there goes that girl that talks to herself and does the craziest stuff."

I grew up in a military atmosphere that was intertwined with hippie thoughts. Ya, already a messed up start... giggle.
I was born in Indianapolis where my birth father was stationed till we got shipped to California then he was to be deployed to Vietnam. I was born in a military hospital, enough said. Then as soon as we could, we were heading for the coast. I believe that first flight sealed my love of flying, just by being surrounded by all forms of life, smoking, drinking and being social. But that is how flights were oh so long ago, talking to others from around the world, this was our social internet.
Landing in LA, the salty,smoggy air infused with my DNA. From that day forward, I knew that I must be near water and yes, I did have the nickname "fish". I always wanted to be in the water and my mother being a avid sunbather worked to my advantage. After things that the government needed to clear up (paperwork and such), we then packed again and moved to Hawaii. Island life gave me the sense of being alone is okay, to separate from the whole and be okay. I have images of majestic scenes and strict regiments. Time was also important to my father, but my mother would say " shhh, no worries." This was the beginning of the roller coaster ride I called life. The absolute beauty of the island and seeing the water daily was heaven , yet the yelling and fighting surrounding me made me hide inside.
While my father was overseas, things went in such a different way. We moved back to California. From hearing about the famous people my mother had seen while assisting the dentist at her job to the having me chase after Elton John in the grocery store parking lot, life was just us two. Soaking up rays and building sandcastles seemed like all we did (or that i wanted to remember).
His plane arrived and there we were waiting for him in our hippy clothes and his mouth fell open. I was torn in my love of my father and what he thought was right and that of my mothers free thinking. I was truly a product of the 70s.
My father grew up believing that the man make all decisions and my mother grew up in a household that had only one parent (my grandfather died when she was young). This was the spark that ignited the fire regarding roles of men and women. In retrospect, this relationship was doomed.

The next journey, my mother and I moved to her birth place; Erie, Pa. (to be continued...)