For quite some time now people have been telling me that I should write a book about my life and about my family. It's always been my really close friends but lately I've been finding that either my friends have shared with people they know about my life or I'll tell someone new something and they also tell me I need to write a book.
So I have decided to put pen to paper...well since this is a technological age, I have decided to put finger to key and write what I guess will be my memoir. I'm only 22 years old but apparently my interesting stories about childhood and adolescence will provide what I need for a memoir. And now I begin writing!
Pssst.... here's the beginning!
"The oddest place my father ever lived was my underwear drawer. Nestled between the panties and the nylons is his newest home. He spent his time living out of cars, living on someone’s couch and sleeping on people’s floors but I’m pretty sure the weirdest place is my underwear drawer. I wish I were kidding or just trying to come up with a clever story to pull you into my story but alas this is entirely true. My Dad, or at least my allotted portion of him, lives in my underwear drawer, inside a Boston Red Sox Christmas tree ornament. Living in a dorm room there are so many places where you can put your father’s ashes where it will not freak your friends out nor get harmed in some unfortunate alcohol related incident. In a bout of cleverness, I decided that the best places to keep them would be somewhere hidden, out of the way, and where only I would see them, ergo he now lives with my panties."