Dear Diary - Summer 1987
I often look back on my childhood, or rather, lack there of. I'm not bitter, not by any means. I wouldn't be the person I am today had I not gone though the trials and tribulations of teenage angst mixed with volatile alcoholic behavior. My mother, not me. I wouldn't know how to survive on my own, on the streets or be able to function day to day adult responsibilities at the age of 16.
While other teenagers my age were getting ready for Homecoming and who would claim their virginity that night, or what type of slutty kitten they were going to be for Halloween, I was figuring out hows to balance high school tennis, Drama production of Our Town and still work enough in order to be able to afford my weekly rent. It was only sixty dollars a week, to live in a boarding rook type hotel, that was above the Bowery Theater on Third and Elm Street, downtown San Diego. It consisted of a single room with a sink, and a bathroom down the hall which was to be shared with the floors occupants. There was another bathroom down the hall, but the one I liked was cleaner.
Most of the residents consisted of recently divorced men who worked at the hospital. I could tell because they wore their scrubs all over the place hoping that their attire would get them laid because their residence couldn't help them get a ten second hand job from a homeless meth addict. I'm sure that there were a few sexual offenders that lived there as well, however the reporting and documentation really wasn't a thing back in the 80's.
Downtown San Diego wasn't really cool yet, unless you lived in Hillcrest. With the addition of Horton Plaza, the city started cleaning up a bit. You could find everything downtown, strip joints, hookers, every drug imaginable and of course the best food at a diner, sandwiched between the strip club and a sleazy jewelry store, that catered towards the young military, nested right on the corner of Broadway and First Street. I wound up working at the jewelry store, till I found out it was just a front to fly girls back and forth from Chicago, carrying new jewelry, actually drugs, back an forth. The girls running it, didn't know and I doubt that they would care since they were constantly surrounded by young horny military men, right off of the boat, or school. But more about that later.
It took me about 90 minutes to get to school from the place I called home. When I started my senior year I was settled in with my job and living arrangement, both of which the family court signed off on. I personally think that they just wanted me somewhere so I'd stop running away every month. I was a nuisance, yet since I went to school every day even when I left home, they viewed me as a mature enough adult to do it on my own, since i was basically living on my own.
My mother didn't even show up to court to fight against anything I wanted. She spent her time at the bar, drowning her sorrows, feeling sorry for herself and sucking up to anyone that offered to pay her bar tab, since she didn't have my money to drink off of anymore. She would also have to join the workforce. She hadn't held down a job since 1969, so this was going to be interesting.
While other teenagers my age were getting ready for Homecoming and who would claim their virginity that night, or what type of slutty kitten they were going to be for Halloween, I was figuring out hows to balance high school tennis, Drama production of Our Town and still work enough in order to be able to afford my weekly rent. It was only sixty dollars a week, to live in a boarding rook type hotel, that was above the Bowery Theater on Third and Elm Street, downtown San Diego. It consisted of a single room with a sink, and a bathroom down the hall which was to be shared with the floors occupants. There was another bathroom down the hall, but the one I liked was cleaner.
Most of the residents consisted of recently divorced men who worked at the hospital. I could tell because they wore their scrubs all over the place hoping that their attire would get them laid because their residence couldn't help them get a ten second hand job from a homeless meth addict. I'm sure that there were a few sexual offenders that lived there as well, however the reporting and documentation really wasn't a thing back in the 80's.
Downtown San Diego wasn't really cool yet, unless you lived in Hillcrest. With the addition of Horton Plaza, the city started cleaning up a bit. You could find everything downtown, strip joints, hookers, every drug imaginable and of course the best food at a diner, sandwiched between the strip club and a sleazy jewelry store, that catered towards the young military, nested right on the corner of Broadway and First Street. I wound up working at the jewelry store, till I found out it was just a front to fly girls back and forth from Chicago, carrying new jewelry, actually drugs, back an forth. The girls running it, didn't know and I doubt that they would care since they were constantly surrounded by young horny military men, right off of the boat, or school. But more about that later.
It took me about 90 minutes to get to school from the place I called home. When I started my senior year I was settled in with my job and living arrangement, both of which the family court signed off on. I personally think that they just wanted me somewhere so I'd stop running away every month. I was a nuisance, yet since I went to school every day even when I left home, they viewed me as a mature enough adult to do it on my own, since i was basically living on my own.
My mother didn't even show up to court to fight against anything I wanted. She spent her time at the bar, drowning her sorrows, feeling sorry for herself and sucking up to anyone that offered to pay her bar tab, since she didn't have my money to drink off of anymore. She would also have to join the workforce. She hadn't held down a job since 1969, so this was going to be interesting.
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