| You know you wouldnt want it any other way... (BIO.) |
[Tue 30 Aug / 1:04am] |
I’m finding it incredibly ironic how I write for a living, I’ve been writing for years… speeches, papers, articles, news reports… you name it, I’ve probably written it in my lifetime. And yet, as I sit here staring at this damned laptop screen, I cannot for the life of be even begin to know where to start. I’m very much capable of talking about myself, trust me on that, I’m not at all shy about that. But, damn it feels like I’m writing a college acceptance letter all over again with this whole, getting to know me bull shit. But let’s get into it, shall we? My name is Taylor Olivia Erickson, and up until 2 years ago, I had never left the state of South Carolina for more than 2 months at a time since the day that I was born. People may find that amusing seeing as growing up all I ever talked about was how I was going to get out of here as soon as I was 18 and travel across the country and backpack across Europe and leave everything and everyone in this miserable state behind. That clearly didn’t happen as I wanted it too… BUT! I did finally get out of SC… but more about that later.
Lets move on to who I am. I’ve been known as a bitch. For a long time throughout high school and even a part of college, I was always the quote, unquote bitch. I’m not, really. I just like to tell the truth, I’m not the kind of person who is going to lie and tell someone that they look good in something they look horrible in, that their eye makeup doesn’t make them look like an 80’s drag queen or that they aren’t a slut if they slept with half the baseball team in a week. I tell it like it is and sometimes… the truth hurts and I guess that makes me the bitch for telling it. I don’t take shit from people; I was brought up with the knowledge that I should always stand up for myself no matter what the circumstances. And I don’t like seeing other people picked on either so in the balance of my attitude most of the time, I was also the girl that was ready to sock you if you were teasing someone. Needless to say I saw the principles office quite often in high school, and thanks to my cousin, I had a nasty left hook which only caused more problems.
Speaking of my cousin, I suppose I should get into my whole family story. We’re all ridiculously close. My mom and her sisters get together every Tuesday, go out, have dinner, gossip, it’s scary when they’re together, but nice to see, I guess. I kind of love that they’re all still so close it makes for holidays to be a lot more tolerable. There are a lot of fucking women in my family though, let me tell you. My mom and her 3 other sisters, me and my three other sisters, and then there’s 4 more girl cousins so what, that’s 12 so far? My dad’s 2 sisters and their 6 daughters between them, so we’re at 20 now, my grandmas, and great grandma… 23, and this isnt counting the baby cousins, or second cousins? I don’t know, it gets confusing but it’s like for every 4 girls, there’s a guy. A LOT of friggen females. I was surrounded by them, and then there was Andy. I wasn’t anything like my sisters, I wanted nothing to do with the pretty pretty princess game, or the dress up, or the sparkles… I didn’t get the obsession with it, I couldn’t do it… so what did I do instead? I latched onto the closest male to me, and that happened to be my cousin Andy. We did everything together growing up, most of which resulted in us getting in trouble, but it was always fun in the moment. He’s pretty much my best friend, as lame as that may sound, it’s the truth, and I swear to god Andy if you’re reading this and plan to make fun of me for saying it, I m going to whip out the pictures of you from you experimental phase so quickly you wont know what hit you.. got it? Good.
I realized quite early on that I was always good at writing. It’s something I’ve loved since I was probably 6 and I would make up my own fairy tales for my sisters because I found the normal ones boring. I was always reading the paper as I grew up, my dad had one section at breakfast, and I had another, I was a weird child, I suppose. I was curious… very curious, I wanted to learn more, learn everything, it’s why I always did well in school, even though I probably had the shortest attention span outside of the classroom, inside, it was all business. After graduating high school, I stayed close to home, attending Jackson University and a fabulous 4 years later, I graduated there with a major in Public Relations and a minor in journalism. After that, I didn’t know what to do… sooooo I went back to school. Graduate school was another 4 years, I attending the University of South Carolina for that one and after that; I was just done with school. I loved it, but I was over it all, I needed excitement and well that’s what I decided to do with my life. I wanted to travel, so I packed up what I needed and left Crocker Park.
Money took me through Ireland and most of England and then to France. It was in France, in a little coffee shop where I had taken up a job while I was there, that I ended up meeting Anna Devereaux. We got to talking one day, about how I had ended up in France, what I wanted to do in my life, where I wanted to go… we became good friends in a short time, despite the nearly 30 year age gap between up. She had a comfort to her that I hadn’t found since I had left home. A month or so later I somehow ended up taking her up on her job offer of taking care of her children, she had 4 of them. So I became an Au Pair of sorts. Little did I know what I was getting in to. Turns out Anna Devereaux was married to Adrian Devereaux… don’t know who that is? Yeah neither did I. He’s French politician, or something of the sort, and he’s loaded. No no, they’re not just loaded… they are beyond whatever follows loaded. They had 4 houses, well technically 5 now; they just bought a new Chateau in Carcassonne and I don’t know if they’re selling this one here or not, who knows. But I’ve been doing that for the past year and a few months, the kids are amazing… brilliant minds, they speak 5 languages between the 4 of them, got me beat, I can only speak 3. But they’re great; they make my job a hell of a lot easier.
So I guess right about now you’re wondering, if I’m stuck here in the south of France, why the hell am I writing in a community for CP? Well, as it may surprise well… everyone except my mom, I’ve come home. I don’t know for how long it’s going to be, but the Devereaux children are all attending boarding schools in London for the school year, so I don’t have any children to take care of. So instead of lounging around the French Riviera on my time off, I decided I needed to come home, spend some time with some of my favorite people. Again, not really sure when I’ll be needed back in France, I’m assuming not until the holidays at least, but you never know, for now you guys are all stuck with me. Deal with it. I’ve managed to talk myself into a job writing for the newspaper, so that’s good… I’ll actually put my degree to a good use.
Other than having a lot of catching up to do when I get home, I’m happy with how my life has been. I’m 26 and I’m doing my thing. Toned down the ‘bitch’ knob, but only slightly. In a nutshell, I'm not the girl you wanna mess with, I WILL hit you. I love hockey and football. I drink beer and i swear... a lot. I'm not afraid to speak my mind, so if you do something stupid, you’ll hear it from me… I’m still more than happy to pass out a knock in the face if you’re being a douchebag… so maybe I haven’t changed all that much, but that’s just something everyone who knows me has learned to deal with eventually. I’m genuinely a good person, most of the time, and I tend to care A LOT about my friends and family, sometimes a little too much, but again, that’s me. Take it or leave it.
( i know these corners, i know these streets, the curb-side prophet there yelling at me, he can save my soul for a drink and a dollar. yeah he's yelling about my tattoos but we all live with the scars we choose, they might hurt like hell, but they all make us stronger[[FACTS|STORYLINES]] )
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