tragedy stikes

I realized after yesterdays blog that it was BORING, that no one cares about some girl who whines about her parents misfortune.  Today I am writing about my personal tragedy.

When I was eight years old I had a big crush on my brothers best friend Richie.  My brother Chuck and his friend Richie were 6 years older then me.  We had a spot out in the back woods behind our house that me and my brothers often used for camping, and generally hanging out.  My brother and his friend decided to spend the night out in those woods.  I always looked up to my brother Chuck, and of course since I had a crush on Richie I decided I must go with them that night.  My parents were out for the evening and my brother Chuck was in charge of me, so he let me tag along, thinking I would wimp out and go home before we slept. I grabbed a thin blanket, they grabbed their sleeping bags.  They started a fire, we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows.  It came time for bed, I cuddled up next to the fire with my thin blanket, and they cuddled up in their sleeping bags.  We went to sleep, and I became very cold, and woke up freezing. Richie heard me awake, and knew I was cold so he asked if I wanted in his sleeping bag with him.  I got up and go into his sleeping bag with him.  Immediately he started kissing me, and then he put his hand down my pants and started feeling my vagina, he hen put his hand on his penis and asked me to rub it.  I finally said stop, and got out of his sleeping bag and went back to my blanket.  When I woke up I was being carried out of the woods over my fathers shoulder, and he put me in my bed.  I never told anyone that story till I was an adult, when I told my mother.  I thought I would get some sympathy from her, and what I got really surprised me.  She said "You should of never been in those woods with those boys to begin with". 

My thoughts on this is, that you really can't trust anybody with your child.  Always know where and what they are doing.  Ask question, lots of question.  And for my ending qote of the day.

Your children need your presence more than your presents.

Jesse Jackson

Introductions Please...

I have a writers heart, although I am not well educated to know the difference on when to use their or there or when to use a comma or just simply end my run on sentence.  So if your the type who has OCD about peoples writing techniques you may want to skip this blog all together.  If you hang in there with me, I will give you a great story.


I am Tonya, born in California in 1970.  No, I didn't get the fortune to be a California girl for long, but I have always heard it calling my name.  My parent are from Moraine Oh, and one day packed up their car with three little boys and took off to find an adventure.  They had me and two years later packed up their car  and dragged us all back to Ohio for a jobs at a local factory.  As I mentioned before I have three older brothers...Donnie, Kevin, and Chuck.  They are three of the most unusual characters and often wondered how I turned out so different then the rest of my family.  I think its the California thing......The stars were aligned different for me then they were for them.  Yes, I do believe in all the astrological stuff, but I'm not a total loon about it either. 

For most of my childhood I was raised in a small community in Camden, Ohio.  We moved out there when I was 6 years old in Kindergarten.  It was a tiny two bedroom trailer on 5 acres of land.  My parents had big plans for this property, but little did we all know it would take them 10 years to complete their plans.  My parents got laid off, and we went on unemployment , and welfare and I learned then how cruel kids can really be.  My brothers were 6,7 and 8 years older then me, so they got the grunt of life on unemployment.  My dad is the hard working type who can never sit still.  He kept our family going in any way he could.  He and my brother chopped wood and delivered it around the area for extra money.  My dad also hunted golf balls on golf course ponds, and would have them cleaned and resold to clubs for money.  All four of them worked on cars and really did any odd job to keep us afloat.  Then after 2 1/2  years my parents got hired back at the plant but this time it was General Motors Truck group.  After a few years of catching up they were rolling in the money and started agian on building their home in Camden.  He sent my brother Donnie to a trade school, for Carpentry, and sent my brother Kevin to trade school for Masonary, and Chuck quit school and moved out.  They worked on the house constantly to try and finish it. It was always in need of somethng else.  I was always frustrated and embarriest about our home., but I drive by it today and remember thise were some of the best times in my life.  I will tell you about those good times some day.  But want to end todays posting with a quote.  Tough times never last, but tough people do.  - Robert H Schuller.  Well said Robert...I do come from tough folks.