This is blog of a woman who didn't know what she wanted and so chased after dreams and men in search of the answers...drunken hilarity ensued. Then one day she met a man who was everything she wanted, but he wasn't so sure. Then she did the unthinkable; after they broke up she gave him this blog address and she let him into her mind as well as her heart. Unbelievably, even after sorting through the sordid archives of failed relationships, one night stands and her lusty (and embarassing) pursuit to secure the heart of a certain young line cook, John somehow managed to fall in love with her too. Melina and John were married a little over six months after they started dating, running away to Las Vegas to seal the deal. You can imagine what the over/under bet was to see if they'd even make it a year!! Over a year later and they are still going strong...this blog has become their story. Need to tell me something? Email me at Melinalovesjohnny at gmail dot com
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Thursday, September 04, 2008
Treading in Guilt
Tomorrow is my grandfather's funeral but I'm not going. I feel guilty, but not guilty enough to go. Let me explain. This was my biological father's dad...I don't remember my biological father, he was shot before I was two--I've heard that I'm not missing much except that he loved meth and he liked impregnating and beating up teenage girls--but that's from my mom so I'm sure it's a little biased--since he did both to her.

I liked my grandfather but he always made me nervous. We could connect on nothing as we both sat uncomfortably in his kitchen--me munching on a Klondike bar because he remembered that I liked them once when I was little. He talked about working at NASA or living in Germany or about "my dad" which always confused me because I would be picturing my dad (the non biological but all the more real) while he talked. I visited him once a month when I was younger, always dropped off by one of my parents and left for about an hour or so. I didn't like going, but I didn't mind it so much after I was there. My grandfather was an interesting guy when he wasn't talking about religion and how we were all going to Hell...somehow we lost touch. It had something to do with him calling after my dad died (non biological) and I also had the flu--so you could say I was a little crazed at the time. He told me he was going into a home and he gave me the phone number. I lost the number, I thought he'd call back--he never did. I found it telling that I never tried to track him down, I kind of felt relieved...although I never said as much to anyone.

The other night my mom received a call asking for me and they used my biological father's last name--a last name I haven't had since I was 16 years old when I voluntarily changed it to my mom's last name for solidarity's sake. She asked who it was,very slowly and cautiously. It was one of my half sisters and she stonily replied that I didn't live there any longer and supplied no further information. I've met the half sisters only once. I didn't know they existed until I was in 5th grade and then just like a Gothic novel--family secrets were revealed. The biological father had been married before...and he had had two daughters who were several years older than me. We arranged a meeting and it was there that I learned that I really didn't want anything to do with the two nearly grown women in front of me. There were lots of reasons; their rude remarks, their jealousy and their desire to make me unhappy in that single meeting were just the tip of the iceberg. Learning that due to the fact that they were born in wedlock and I wasn't, that they stood to inherit any money I received from my father's estate if something should happen to me but not the other way around, I thought it best to just steer clear of them for my own safety--as they had already reached the age of inheritance and had blown their money on aqua firebirds...I just bided my time and spent mine on college.

I wasn't close with my grandfather but I liked him well enough. I feel bad for not going to his funeral and I feel worse because I hate the fact that people will talk badly about me for not being there. But then I realize that the people who will be talking are strangers who just happen to share some of the DNA that I have--given to me from a man who is nothing but a mystery to me. And I almost feel OK about my decision.

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posted by Melina at 5:18 PM