Category: Stories

Second Grade

I’d been holding my hand up for so long that my arm hurt. I shook it wildly in an effort to get the obviously blind teacher’s attention. I made grunting noises and ooh ooh sounds to further encourage her that I knew the answer, but she wouldn’t call on me.

“Billy, what do you think the answer is?” She smiled sweetly and I could almost feel the sick pleasure she got in torturing me. “Does anyone else want to answer?” Each word from her lips was like a bamboo shoot under my fingernails, another volt of electricity through my brain.

“Cindy, that’s right!” She exclaimed and heaped on the praise. I continued to imagine that she was hoping for me to explode. I didn’t understand why she just wouldn’t call on ME!

I finally broke down right there in class. It was too much. I started crying. At first it was merely a trickle but then as the full reality of what was happening to me I started to guffaw and gasp with spasmodic shudders.

My feelings were like a large balloon constantly filled to the breaking point. Each time Mrs. Tatangelo called on another student it was like she was jabbing a needle into that balloon. Every poke was taken personally. Every word was scrutinized, weighed, measured, judged and the final verdict was that everyone in the class was against me and this particular day it just happened to be my birthday.

That was second grade. I was only 6. I’d started school early, skipped kindergarden and was right there smack dab in the middle of kids a year and sometimes two years older than me. If I had a superpower back then it would have been the ability to “Feel” things on an extreme level. I was constantly aware of everyone and how they treated me. I was super sensitive. I took detailed mental lists of every betrayal, every slight and I remembered it whether I wanted to or not.

This has been my blessing and my curse my whole life. My inability to shut off my feelings or being overly sensitive to things. On some levels it helps me be the kind-hearted person I am, but on another level it leaves me blubbering over the slightest inconsideration or cruelty. When people don’t show up for my events, I take it personal. When people don’t like my ideas, I can get volatile.

I’m better now that I’m older and I understand myself more, but I’m still not 100% happy with how I respond to things and people who are out of my control. With every strength there seems to be a great weakness.

It’s been 27 years since my teacher didn’t call on me in second grade but I can still remember those feelings I had as if they were this morning. If I took my heart out of my chest and examined it I am sure it would mostly be a large pile of scar tissue, but I don’t mind so much, scars are what remain after a wound heals and those scars are what make me me stronger.

Stories

Some of My Holiday Pictures!

Post author By Evan Stark
Post date January 4, 2009
45 Comments on Some of My Holiday Pictures!

Heather — 08 Ball Ringing in the New Year!

Sporting an Alligator shirt from her Uncle Eddeaux — Sporting an Alligator shirt from her Uncle

My Nephew Aiden enjoying some of his Christmas Gifts

Aiden get's excited about the gifts he is about to receive — Aiden get

Stories

Christmas Dinner at Eddeaux’s

Post author By Evan Stark
Post date December 24, 2008
28 Comments on Christmas Dinner at Eddeaux’s

If my house were a restaurant, I’d have to give it 5 stars…

I set the mood by lighting all the lights, burning all the candles, and setting the table for 9. I took a little extra time making dinner last night and even started preparing it the day before. I brined my chicken in garlic, sugar and salt. I purchased beer brined pork chops and picked up gas for the grill. In the end dinner consisted of fried chicken strips, pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and tres leches cake with strawberries, bananas, pineapple and coconut. There were glasses filled with ice and sweet tea and a room filled with warm smiles and laughter.

This is my family, no extension, no cousins, no friends – which is a rarity in our world. We always seem to have a few extra family members or friends join our gatherings and while we love having them with us 99% of the time it was nice to have just my mom and my sisters and their kids and significant others around my table.

After dinner we exchanged inexpensive gifts and warm hugs. We sat around the fire and made a big mess of wrapping paper and had enjoyable conversation. It was simple – fantastically simple and blessed.

Tomorrow, I’ll be heading to the great state of Kentucky to spend Christmas with my best friend Joe and his sweet family. It’s been a good year. I’m fat and happy and that’s nice.

So here’s wishing you a Merry Christmas…

Home Stories

Lived In…

I like houses that have been turned into homes by years of wear and tear and clutter. I like that feeling of something being lived-in, but still taken care of. What I love more than that is a house that has been lived in and taken care of by a woman.

I currently have snowman sheets on my bed. They are flannel and I keep them freshly washed in Lavender Vanilla soap and dryer sheets. They smell amazing, but they never compare to the sheets at the Bruner’s house or the Miller’s or my mom’s house. Those sheets always seem to smell like an angel washed them with a fragance you can’t buy at a store – love.

Recently I stayed at the McWhinney’s home in Holly Lake Ranch and even though there house was relatively new to them, it had all the elements of a home. There is something about the combined efforts of a man and a woman that seem to make a place special. There’s normally a balance of masculine and feminine and even if it borders on the feminine side I think that most men find that welcoming.

My house is a bachelor pad. I have minimal furniture, no family photos grace my walls, the countertops are barren in the kitchen. It’s exactly like I want it.

Right now my bedroom walls are painted with multiple swatches of color. I’ve got multiple projects going all at once and I’m finally getting the need to do things exactly my way out of my system. I love my home, but now I’m willing to give someone else a shot at picking the wall colors of my bedroom. I could use some help in narrowing down what type of flooring I want in the living room and what color of cabinets to put in the kitchen.

All of this is not saying that I’m ready to be married, but if I do get married, I’d now be ready to let someone come in and have their way with my space and that was something I wasn’t ready to let go of a few months ago. I needed this time to explore my ideas and to let loose with my creativity. Now I’m exhausted by the options and the futility of my efforts and I’m willing to admit that I’m not as good at this as I always thought I was.

So one day, I hope that this home and all the houses I have after this one, will have that “Lived-In” feeling where when people walk in the door they realize that this is where people live. People who fight and cook and clean and love. Where people have friends stay over on clean sheets and when we say goodnight after a party our friends won’t want to leave.

Stories

Um, No Thanks on the 4 Calling birds, the 3 french hens or the two turtle doves… and go ahead and axe that partridge in a pear tree.

I haven’t updated much here recently because everytime I start to type something it comes out boring. My words seem like I am giving bullet points of my life or reciting a recipe for something that no one wants to eat and so instead of hitting publish and bogging down the blogosphere with more inane babble, I’ve taken the high road and not published anything at all.

Recently, I’ve found that my creative efforts have been expended doing side projects and updating my status on Facebook. How easy it is to whip up one liners that all 400+ of my friends are forced to see as opposed to coming up with something witty and titillating on my website.

What is more, it’s the holidays and everyone is busy bustling about buying gifts and having parties. Personally I’m having a big Christmas party at my casa on the 13th with nostalgic mexican food catered by a friend who used to do our “Coit St. Christmas” parties. I’ve also been decorating the house with lights and Christmas paraphernalia and when I’m not doing that I’m planning this huge New Year’s Party in Plano: http://08balll.com . The rental on this place is over $3,000 and so I’m having to do a serious bit of marketing to make sure we break even.

On Christmas day I am flying to Kentucky to visit my best friend Joe and between now and then I’m turning 33 while my nephew turns 3 and so we’ll be celebrating both of our birthday’s together at Chuck E. Cheese. This year, I won’t even be bitter that he is stealing my spotlight. I don’t even really care about my birthday anymore, there is so much going on around the holidays that I think every party is for me, Hanakuh is for me. Kwanza is for me. Yule Tide is for me. So yes, we are celebrating the birth of our Saviour Jesus Christ, but it’s like those office parties you have at work where you pick one day of the month and celebrate it for everyone’s birthday. Okay, not really, but sort of.

So what’s on your plate this Christmas?