In the ’70s it was skateboards, in the ’80s it was drugs, in the ’90s it was art, and now it’s my family.
When I was 13, I moved from New Jersey to Germany with my family. The high school was so supportive of my dream to continue with my theater training; instead of taking PE, I would get credit for dance lessons.
My family was a bunch of drunks. When I was six I came up missing, they put my picture on a bottle of scotch.
All of you are aware of the journey I've taken this past year and I just want to relay to all of the people that sent along their prayers and well wishes, my heartfelt thanks. It was truly overwhelming to me and my family the outpouring that we received from the Twin Cities community and from across the Midwest.
I wanted to make a point of basing myself at home, being close to my family. I'll never be able to repay Mum and Dad for what they did, but at least they know they'll never have to work another day. I'll do whatever it takes to look after them.
I have had a fairly long life, above all a very happy one, and I think that I shall be remembered with some regrets and perhaps leave some reputation behind me. What more could I ask? The events in which I am involved will probably save me from the troubles of old age. I shall die in full possession of my faculties, and that is another advantage that I should count among those that I have enjoyed. If I have any distressing thoughts, it is of not having done more for my family; to be unable to give either to them or to you any token of my affection and my gratitude is to be poor indeed.
Some of the things you read you get an immediate reaction to so I've stopped reading things now. I do worry about my family though. Some people do try some nasty things to get at them and try and get a reaction from them.
My first memory of the Rolling Stones is listening to 'Satisfaction' at a sixth-grade slumber party at a friend's house in Ankara, Turkey, where my family was living at the time. In the middle of our sleepover, my friend's dad stopped the record when he heard the words 'girlie action!'
The pictures of my family were designed to be on a family wall, they were supposed to be together. It was supposed to copy my mother's wall in her house.
Sometimes I imagine a get-together where I introduce my family to my blogger friends and my blogger friends introduce my family to me.
No, I was two years older than the other guys. I was a war baby. My family were a lot poorer than they were. I'd had to fight too hard for anything I had in my life and to smash things up for me.
I was also very concerned about protecting my family.
I can't say it's not painful being estranged from most of my family. I wish it could be otherwise.
The only thing I fear is the harmful effects on my family, who I won't be able to help any more. That's what keeps me up at night.
Everyone in my family is in the film business; I knew I wanted to be creative and it was important in my family to be artistic.
My family is involved and my wife Brenda is a great, great writer. She helps me with the writing of everything and also sings with me. I owe a lot to Brenda.
Hour after hour, they shouted at me, accused me, insulted me and members of my family.
My family is from the South, and I can remember all those ladies I grew up with, like my great-aunts, who had handkerchiefs. There's something sweet about them.
My family responsibilities don't conflict with my career. Not at all.
I only get to spend about six to eight weeks in Australia now and I really miss my family and friends.
I showed her how I'd been making tiny cuts in my skin to let the badness and the pain leak out. They were shallow at first, and short, like claw marks made by a desperate cat that wanted to hid under the front porch. Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care.
I miss my family, and I like being a tourist when I go back.
So, to add to a momentous day, I corrected a misconception that my family had held for at least fifteen years and came out to them as straight.
Had I not made it big, my family would have told me to recheck my decision. Now that I am successful, there is no way. They have to accept it gracefully.
Both sides of my family had come from Ireland in the 19th century for the same reason: There was nothing to eat over there. Since then, I've tried to make up for the potato famine by making the potato the only vegetable that passes these lips.
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