No worries, you read the title correctly:
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Well, finally, after a gazillion years since I made my "B" post, I'm finally ready to post my "C" one. I had spent much of my time trying to figure out what to write about in those gazillion years. My ideas contained titles like "The Curious Caper of the Cadbury Creme Eggs" In which I'd try and spin a funny tale of mystifying intrigue and sleuthing derived from my intense sadness that I couldn't find anymore Cadbury Creme eggs after Easter (which is a "chocoholic tradition" in my family) because my car broke down and by the time I finally got it fixed they were sold out (and by "broke down" I mean that it worked fine, it just didn't stop moving and I didn't feel like going off a cliff for a 'chocolat et creme' egg). However, after moving back to my home town in MAY, I found a cascade of them at Rite Aid. So I bought four. Thank you Rite Aid!!!
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So, I decided that there was no reason to work that title as it was no long necessary. Well, shortly after moving back to my hometown, I start looking for work while at the same time lamenting over the fact that I had no clue (and I still don't) as to what I want to be "when I grow up" and graduate college (which is in less than a year and a half, mind you). So I considered a new topic for my capricious "C" post. "The Career Conundrum." Which, since I still have no job (don't judge, I'm trying!) and no clue what I want to do, specifically, when I graduate, this blog topic would still be quite compatible....but the thought is too depressing....thus, "The Career Conundrum," too, is lost. For now, it will be filed away with the other Cold Cases.
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Here goes:
Once upon a time there was a man (my dad) and a woman (not my mom). The two got married and had a child. I will call said child Benjamin, because that is his name, so it makes sense. Anyway. The man (my dad) and the woman (still not my mom) decided that they could not be together anymore, so they got a divorce. Soon after, the woman (you guessed it, still not my mom) remarried and took Benjamin to live with her husband. This new husband adopted Benjamin, so his last name changed. After THAT, there was another divorce and remarriage and Benjamin and his new half brother moved to the third father's house. The new family moved elsewhere (I will not provide details in the interest of privacy).
Let me clarify with a picture:
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Meanwhile: The first man (my dad) met another woman (my mom). They married and, five years later, had child (ME! =D). Said child grew up, even after her parents divorced when she was 4, thinking she was an only child. The while watching something on television where a young girl had an older brother that stood up for her or did something otherwise sweet and big-brotherly, the girl (not the one on tv, but ME!) sighed, and said aloud "I wish I had a big brother."
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That's where it all started. See, after I said that I wished I had a big brother, my mom, who happened to be passing by on her way to the kitchen at that exact moment stopped and said something along the lines of "But you have one..."
You can imagine my face.
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Yeah, kinda something like that. (FYI: in searching for this picture, I discovered that there is a place called "Surprise, Arizona." Does that mean it has trees and rain? That'd be a surprise.)
Anyway. After I found out I had a brother, I knew I just HAD to find him. Now, here is some math for you:
I found out that I had a big brother when I was about 11 or 12 years old. I'm 21 now (woot!) so that means I have been wanting to meet him for about 10 years.
21 - 11 = 10
Got it? Here is another bit of arithmetic:
My mother told me that she met my brother about 6 years before I was born (so about 1 year before she married my dad) at this time and she says my brother was about 14 years old. That would make him older than me by...well, you do the math (20 years).
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TWENTY!!!
That's some big brother, eh? More like a super-big brother, but I digress. Anyway, to the good part of the story.
Well, I spent a good long time trying to find my brother. My dad said he hadn't heard from Ben, my super-big brother, since that time before he married my mom (which, turned out to be a false statement, but whatever). So, essentially, super-big brother Ben was lost to me. When my father died March 23, 2010, I lost all hope of finding him. I tried piecing together what I knew (I only knew about the second husband and something about Maryland and what my brother's new last name might be). But, seriously, I gave up any thought of actually finding him.
A few weeks ago, late one Saturday night, I got a lead from a family member through another family member, both on my dad's side. There was a book, and I will not release the title in the interest of privacy, but this book was about Ben's mother and mentioned him. I happened to be a mall at that very moment and dragged my boyfriend to the resident Border's Bookstore to find the book. But because I was given the incorrect title by the second family member, something I didn't find out til later that night, I didn't find the book.
I went back home with my boyfriend, depressed, but I didn't give up. I Googled the title of the book, found the correct one on Amazon, did research on the subject matter and, VOILA, I found my brother.....seriously.
It took me another two hours, but I eventually found his adopted sister online. I fervently messaged her via facebook, explained the situation and prayed that 1: she was the right person and 2: that my brother would want to talk to me.
I had given my information to the adopted sister and she said she'd let him know (such a sweet girl) and so I waited (quite impatiently) for any contact....Monday afternoon, around 2 o'clock, I got a call. I answered groggily (because I had a migraine from all the excitement and took a nap to feel better) and I heard the magic words that I'll never forget: "Hi, Taylor? I know this may sound weird, but I think I'm your brother."
SHAZAAM!
Those words worked like Excedrin Migraine pills, but for life (except I still ended up having a rough two days with a horrid migraine).
But, I found him. And so, after 10 years of wanting a big brother, and 2 1/2 hours of some concrete searching based on a random tip, I found my brother.
I've talked to him several times since that first call, and I'm so stoked.
So, if you have any long-lost relatives, don't give up. You'll find them. Or you could have me do it! I'm a regular old SIT (sleuth-in-training -- hey, maybe Master Sleuth will be my life occupational specialty)!
...Then again, mine was easy because he has a rather famous mom, but, I'm not telling how. :P
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Well, finally, after a gazillion years since I made my "B" post, I'm finally ready to post my "C" one. I had spent much of my time trying to figure out what to write about in those gazillion years. My ideas contained titles like "The Curious Caper of the Cadbury Creme Eggs" In which I'd try and spin a funny tale of mystifying intrigue and sleuthing derived from my intense sadness that I couldn't find anymore Cadbury Creme eggs after Easter (which is a "chocoholic tradition" in my family) because my car broke down and by the time I finally got it fixed they were sold out (and by "broke down" I mean that it worked fine, it just didn't stop moving and I didn't feel like going off a cliff for a 'chocolat et creme' egg). However, after moving back to my home town in MAY, I found a cascade of them at Rite Aid. So I bought four. Thank you Rite Aid!!!
So, I decided that there was no reason to work that title as it was no long necessary. Well, shortly after moving back to my hometown, I start looking for work while at the same time lamenting over the fact that I had no clue (and I still don't) as to what I want to be "when I grow up" and graduate college (which is in less than a year and a half, mind you). So I considered a new topic for my capricious "C" post. "The Career Conundrum." Which, since I still have no job (don't judge, I'm trying!) and no clue what I want to do, specifically, when I graduate, this blog topic would still be quite compatible....but the thought is too depressing....thus, "The Career Conundrum," too, is lost. For now, it will be filed away with the other Cold Cases.
Fortunately, something, or rather someone, came along quite unexpectedly, and I now, after tweaking an already famous title, have my cantankerous "C" post. Here goes:
Once upon a time there was a man (my dad) and a woman (not my mom). The two got married and had a child. I will call said child Benjamin, because that is his name, so it makes sense. Anyway. The man (my dad) and the woman (still not my mom) decided that they could not be together anymore, so they got a divorce. Soon after, the woman (you guessed it, still not my mom) remarried and took Benjamin to live with her husband. This new husband adopted Benjamin, so his last name changed. After THAT, there was another divorce and remarriage and Benjamin and his new half brother moved to the third father's house. The new family moved elsewhere (I will not provide details in the interest of privacy).
Let me clarify with a picture:
Meanwhile: The first man (my dad) met another woman (my mom). They married and, five years later, had child (ME! =D). Said child grew up, even after her parents divorced when she was 4, thinking she was an only child. The while watching something on television where a young girl had an older brother that stood up for her or did something otherwise sweet and big-brotherly, the girl (not the one on tv, but ME!) sighed, and said aloud "I wish I had a big brother."
That's where it all started. See, after I said that I wished I had a big brother, my mom, who happened to be passing by on her way to the kitchen at that exact moment stopped and said something along the lines of "But you have one..."
You can imagine my face.
Yeah, kinda something like that. (FYI: in searching for this picture, I discovered that there is a place called "Surprise, Arizona." Does that mean it has trees and rain? That'd be a surprise.)
Anyway. After I found out I had a brother, I knew I just HAD to find him. Now, here is some math for you:
I found out that I had a big brother when I was about 11 or 12 years old. I'm 21 now (woot!) so that means I have been wanting to meet him for about 10 years.
21 - 11 = 10
Got it? Here is another bit of arithmetic:
My mother told me that she met my brother about 6 years before I was born (so about 1 year before she married my dad) at this time and she says my brother was about 14 years old. That would make him older than me by...well, you do the math (20 years).
That's some big brother, eh? More like a super-big brother, but I digress. Anyway, to the good part of the story.
Well, I spent a good long time trying to find my brother. My dad said he hadn't heard from Ben, my super-big brother, since that time before he married my mom (which, turned out to be a false statement, but whatever). So, essentially, super-big brother Ben was lost to me. When my father died March 23, 2010, I lost all hope of finding him. I tried piecing together what I knew (I only knew about the second husband and something about Maryland and what my brother's new last name might be). But, seriously, I gave up any thought of actually finding him.
A few weeks ago, late one Saturday night, I got a lead from a family member through another family member, both on my dad's side. There was a book, and I will not release the title in the interest of privacy, but this book was about Ben's mother and mentioned him. I happened to be a mall at that very moment and dragged my boyfriend to the resident Border's Bookstore to find the book. But because I was given the incorrect title by the second family member, something I didn't find out til later that night, I didn't find the book.
I went back home with my boyfriend, depressed, but I didn't give up. I Googled the title of the book, found the correct one on Amazon, did research on the subject matter and, VOILA, I found my brother.....seriously.
It took me another two hours, but I eventually found his adopted sister online. I fervently messaged her via facebook, explained the situation and prayed that 1: she was the right person and 2: that my brother would want to talk to me.
I had given my information to the adopted sister and she said she'd let him know (such a sweet girl) and so I waited (quite impatiently) for any contact....Monday afternoon, around 2 o'clock, I got a call. I answered groggily (because I had a migraine from all the excitement and took a nap to feel better) and I heard the magic words that I'll never forget: "Hi, Taylor? I know this may sound weird, but I think I'm your brother."
SHAZAAM!
Those words worked like Excedrin Migraine pills, but for life (except I still ended up having a rough two days with a horrid migraine).
But, I found him. And so, after 10 years of wanting a big brother, and 2 1/2 hours of some concrete searching based on a random tip, I found my brother.
I've talked to him several times since that first call, and I'm so stoked.
So, if you have any long-lost relatives, don't give up. You'll find them. Or you could have me do it! I'm a regular old SIT (sleuth-in-training -- hey, maybe Master Sleuth will be my life occupational specialty)!
...Then again, mine was easy because he has a rather famous mom, but, I'm not telling how. :P
---
So, there it is, my elusve "C" post, long over-due like a forgotten library book.
Anyway, to break up the black-and-white (or, rather, green-and-green) monotony of the thick block of words above, here is a picture of Surprise, Arizona. Let's see what the surprise is all about:
Wow, that is a surprise!
Here's where it's located, in case you want to take your sweetie on a surprise getaway, literally.
And, ha, for the record, if this is seriously a police badge from Surprise:
...and if I had grown up there, I would have seriously joined the police force, just for the pleasure of jumping out at criminals and yelling "Surprise Police!"
Hmm, perhaps catching criminals is the answer to my career conundrum....hmmmm.
Tootles!
PS: Just a thought. If the whole town of Surprise got together for some huge party, does everyone have to act shocked the whole time, being that it is a Surprise Party?
