Stephanie Bri

I remember the day I first discovered the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pretty vividly. I was about eight or nine years old. My mom was working at a truck stop on the outskirts of Salina Kansas. I remember walking into the video arcade waiting for her to get off work one day and coming across this weird 4 player video game. It had cool cartoony style graphics, a rocking soundtrack, a jamming attract screen and these really interesting looking characters. I dropped a quarter into the machine and was instantly hooked.

For the first few months of my experience with Ninja Turtles as a brand the only thing I knew of the franchise was that video game. I had no idea there was a cartoon, comic book, toys or a live action movie on the way. I just knew it as a video game property. And this was alright by me. I got my first TMNT action figures a year later. It was the original Leo, Rocksteady and Master Splinter. Within a couple of years I had discovered the cartoon, the toys and had seen the live action movie. I was hooked.

I came into the world of Nina Turtles by way of the X Men. I had already been familiar with the concept of mutants from reading X Men comics. I was a bit confused at the use of the term mutant as it was used in the TMNT lore but I quickly adapted. I had already also been exposed to Karate Kid, Nina Gaiden and several martial arts movies. I already had an idea of how karate worked in movies so I was on board with the Ninjas in this universe. I was a kid so didn’t understand the nuances to the different forms of martial arts so everything was karate in my mind and anyone who did karate was a Ninja to me too. I didn’t know any better.

By the time I had a friend show me one of his TMNT comic books I had already played all three NES games, seen TMNT 2 in theaters and had half a dozen toys. I was disgusted to learn it was an ugly ass black and white comic book. This deeply offended me to the point where I refused to accept the comics into my world. I was happy with the toys, games and cartoon.

Speaking of the cartoon here is the thing. I was losing interest in animation at an early age. To be honest as far back as I remember I have always had a disdain for cartoons and had a preference for live action movies and TV shows. Sure I watched a bunch of Saturday morning cartoons along with my sisters but mostly because back then we lived in a small town and only had 3 channels to watch so didn’t have a whole lot to do. I remember watching the cartoon but only liking maybe the first dozen or so episodes before I lost interest. Looking back on it now while I do have nostalgia for it, I can’t bring myself to actually watch the show. It just doesn’t appeal to me. Nostalgia just isn’t enough for me to enjoy something anymore.

The weird thing is I leaned hard and fast into Ninja Turtles as a brand all at once. Then just as suddenly as I discovered the four Turtles I quickly lost interest over night. It wasn’t gradual or caused by a decline in the property. The toys were still cool looking, the cartoon was more popular than ever before. And I didn’t hate TMNT 3 Turtles in Time. Not at first. No it was a singular event that took me out of the Sewers of New York and into a new world of Martial Arts teenagers. It was the day I discovered the similarly named Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. I took a hard left turn. One day I was all into the Turtles and the next day they were dead to me. Replaced by the rainbow colored superheroes from Angel Grove. I would say I never looked back but that isn’t the case.

My first revisiting off the TMNT property came during the Nintendo Game Cube era. I discovered the TMNT video game on the system and was very happy to be back into the world of the mutant turtles. I never got into the new toys, cartoon or comics but I did enjoy that one video game. It would be nearly two more decades before I took another look at TMNT. It was in 2020 when I discovered the Rise of the TMNT toys that I got back into buying Ninja Turtles themed products. I went all in on that toy line. I was pretty sad at how suddenly it ended. Shortly after I got back into collecting the retro toys and that is where I stand today. I have no interest in ever touching a Nintendo Entertainment System ever again so replaying those old NES games is out of the question. I have no desire to revisit the cartoon nor have I had any interest in watching the Michael Bay live action turtle movies. My interest these days is purely as a toy collector. I might rewatch the original live action film from 1990 from time to time but beyond that my current experiences with the turtles is going to be buying their vintage toys from my childhood.

I was there for the 16 bit console wars of the 1990s. I was also one to not only fall victim to magazine marketing, I also regularly switched sides during the entire conflict. It was a treacherous time for sure.

For me it began with the Christmas of 1988. This was when my parents bought us kids a Nintendo Entertainment System. Up to this point the only home console we had was an Atari 2600 clone nobody remembers. We didn’t own a lot of NES games back then but we were fortunate enough to be able to play several others either by going to friends houses or renting them.

When I first learned of the existence of a Super Nintendo it was all I could think about. I had to get my hands on that Super Mario World game one way or another. The Christmas of 1993 was going to be that year. My mom had bought one at Kmart on Lay-a-way and had it ready to go under the tree when the time came. Unfortunately one of my sisters found the receipt and shared with us kids what we were getting that year. Mom learned of this infraction and promptly cancelled the order and bought entirely different presents instead. I was bummed.

Enter Sega. My first introduction to the company was at a friends house who had a Master System. Despite their insistence it was “better” than the Nintendo we already owned, the games he showed me did not impress at all. That didn’t stop this same kid from continuing his crusade. Every day on the bus ride to and from school he would show me Game Gear games as well as flyers advertising Genesis games. He introduced me to the words “16 bits” and “blast processing” I was gullible and so I shifted my efforts from begging my parents for a Super NES and went on the warpath to get my hands on this new, amazing Sega console I was sold on.

Needless to say this worked. My parents got me my very own Sega Genesis for my 12th birthday and I couldn’t be happier. Out of the 7 kids I hung out with after school, 3 had Sega’s, one had a Super Nintendo, one just an NES and the other loser had this thing called a Windows PC or idk something weird like that. It was easy for me to trade Sega carts with my friends and explore the depth of the consoles amazing library of rock solid action titles. As I grew up with arcade games I was more into the arcade style action games flooding the Sega console than I was the boring ass odd ball side scrollers and those weird anime themed games the magazines called RPGs or something. I was hooked on Sega.

Then a new friend moved to town and flipped everything I new on its side. All it took was one game to shift my loyalty from Sega back to Nintendo. That game of course was another arcade mega hit I already had on Genesis, Mortal Kombat II. It didn’t take long before I was starting to see how much better the SNES version was than the Sega version I was currently stuck with. This prompted me to take the money I made from my after school jobs to buy myself a Super NES as a companion to my trusty Sega. It didn’t take long before I was able to build up a solid library of Super NES games to offset my ever increasing Genesis library.

Once I had my hands on both I realized I just couldn’t pick one over the other. I found myself spending the same amount of time playing games on each. I also couldn’t decide which games I enjoyed more. While I loved the hard core action games the Sega was feeding me I also found myself finding enjoyment in the quirky Japanese games Nintendo was throwing my way. In the end I decided they were basically equals. I never could decide one over the other. Sega gets bonus points for the Sega CD, Power Base Converter and 32X. The Super NES gets bonus points for Super Mario World, Zelda A Link to the Past, Super Metroid, Sim City and the aforementioned Mortal Kombat 2. Over the years I find myself constantly going back and forth on which system I prefer. There are days where I find myself leaning towards Sega due to my nostalgia for it. Then there are days I spend hours playing Donkey Kong Country or Kirby Super Star and flip back to the Nintendo camp.

At the end of the day unlike most console war generations where I could handily pick a favorite, the 16 bit era will always remain the one video game generation where I couldn’t firmly plant my flag on either hill. To this day I love them both equally. I often ask myself if I could only own one for the rest of my life which would I pick. In the end I never can come up with a decisive answer.

After 11 long years of crunching behind the scenes I can finally say my book is published and I am now a fiction author. This has been a lot longer coming than 11 years though.

I started writing stories in grade school. My parent gave me a typewriter in 6th grade. A year later they gave me my first digital word processor. Then a few years more I would get my first desktop computer. All those devices were used to write short stories and rough drafts of novels I never finished.

The book itself is called Goldfish on the Mountain. The idea for the story came to me while binge watching a bunch of the crime thriller TV series Bones. It was also partially inspired by the hit horror/thriller Fargo. I sat down and immediately did something I had never done before. I wrote an outline to use as a road map. This was something I learned how to do in my college writing courses. Then I sat down one day at a time typing away in my spare time adding to the story little by little. I finished the rough draft in 2020. At this time I was working for a local newspaper as a writer which is what drove me to finish in the first place.

I spent the next 2 years polishing and re-writing the book fixing grammar mistakes and spelling errors as well as cleaning up the plot as I went along. I finally got to a point I was comfortable calling the story completed last summer. I published the chapters one at a time right here on this blog. Then I sat out to get on the path of self publishing. The biggest road block was designing a cover. I spent six months looking for a graphic artist willing to do it on my budget. Since that budget kept shrinking along with my patience I decided to put my graphic design training from college to good use and designed the cover myself. Then I went through the process of getting it published via Amazon Kindle Publishing.

Right now the book is submitted for final approval. I am just waiting on feedback either thumbs up good to go, or notes on what I need to fix in order to get it on the platform. I published it in two formats. First the ebook for modern readers and ease of access. Then I reformatted it for the paperback print on demand version. Amazon says it could take up to 5 days for it to get final approval so now I just wait. But it is a load off my back getting to this point. In can finally say I am now a published author and I can’t tell you how damn good that makes me feel. I put a lot of work into this project and to see it finally realized is a dream come true.

I don’t remember how old I was the first time I had a nightmare. Who even does? I just remember waking up too scared to go back to sleep. I was already having pattern nightmares long before I ever watched my first movie with Fred Krueger inflicting that suffering on others. Needless to say those movies changed me as a person.

I can’t really pin point the exact moment I got into horror as a person. I just always watched horror as a kid. I have ample fond memories of going to the local video rental shop and browsing the horror section every time. I would always grab a movie based entirely on the cover art. I tried not to read about the movies before watching them. I always wanted to go in completely in the dark.

Darkness is what life is. We live our lives in the dark. From the moment we are born there is dark cloud of death looming over our heads waiting to rain down on us when our time is up. I learned this lesson at the age of 5.

I had a cousin who liked to chase me with spiders. He discovered I was terrified of the vile critters and since he wasn’t he would pick them up and hold them out to me. I hated him. I wanted nothing more than for him to just be out of my life. One day he was climbing a tree. Nobody knows why he had the jump rope with him. Perhaps he was planning on swinging from the branches like the old tree swing we were all too familiar with at grandmas house? Either way he slipped, fell and that rope wrapped around his tiny, inexperienced kneck. He died in a single instant. I never wished for that. This really traumatized my 5 -year-old brain. I had wished he was dead and now, he was. This broke me.

I became obsessed with death. I couldn’t get enough scary movies. I was as young as 7 renting A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Friday the 13th, and oh so many other terrifying tales of death and despair. Death became a companion to my imagination. Then the nightmares returned.

I talk about my dreams often. To be honest none of the horror movies I ever watched directly gave me nightmares. Often they were oddly comfort movies. I would watch a horrifying movie with murder and scares then sleep soundly with wonderful dreams of exploring the universe. My nightmares came from elsewhere.

I don’t talk about the abusive father I knew as a child. Mostly because by age 12 he had converted to Christianity and had a life altering transformation into this whole other man. A kinder, gentler man by most accounts. The days of hiding in my bed under the covers listening to him beat mom waiting for his belt or fist to find my behind were over. But those memories that fear of my father stuck with me.

The first time I watched a Nightmare movie I was in Kindergarten. I watched A Nightmare on Elm Street 4 with my very dad one day when it came on whichever movie channel was offering a free weekend preview that month. My dad loved to scare us as kids. He took pleasure in pranking us, as well as the aforementioned violence he inflicted on our tiny lives. What he especially took pleasure in was showing us the most frightening films he could find and watch us cower in fear as the horrors of the motion picture proceeded to scare our tiny psyches.

While dad’s abuse did include a physical component, he wasn’t often that violent those were extremely rare occasions. Rather his abuse was phycological and emotional. He used to call me fat kid, lazy, stupid, clumsy and other choice words I’ll refrain from using here. The worst two things he called me stand out in my mind. First was the harsh usage of the word faggot. I used to play dress up with my sisters. I would play with their dolls and hang out with their little girl friends regularly. He decided I was a faggot at an early age and was quick to point out how I had better not be one when I grew up.

The second word he used to call me didn’t hurt as much but was still awful. I was really into rap music. I liked to watch TV shows like Family Matters and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. He called me a wigger for being too friendly to the blacks. He threw away my Michael Jackson tape and called it sickening I was into that trash. He had a word for Michael I dare not type here in 2023.

I lived in the shadows of my dads reign of terror. Afraid to tell him I got an F on a test or that I had detention, yet again. I knew I was coming home to either a verbal flogging or the back of his belt across my bare ass. So I threw myself into my virtual world. I sank into my toys, my video games, my comic books and above all my horror movies. These things provided me an escape from the daily torments I faced.

That day I discovered the world of Freddy Krueger’s nightmare world I found my escape. I would often day dream I was a dream warrior fighting the vile serial killer with my own special dream powers. As I grew older and life continued to throw ever increasingly horrific traumas my way those day dreams gradually shifted. By the time I was 12 I was no longer imaging myself as the hero defeating the evil Krueger. I was pretending I was him and imaging all the horrifying ways I would get my own revenge on the kids I blamed for my troubles.

To say I was bullied would be an understatement. I was regularly beaten up and abused by the rubbish pieces of garbage that called themselves my classmates to the point my dad’s response was not to inform the school they needed to do better. Instead he taught me how to fight back and told me to stand up for myself. I won’t get into the details here, that’s another story for another day. Needless to say I went from being bullied to being the bully. I became the very monster I had grown to hate.

Those horror movies now offered me more than an escape. They gave me tools to plot ways I could inflict harm on my fellow students. When I turned 18 the first thing I did with my paycheck from my after school job was bought the entire Elm Street franchise on VHS in one big classic boxed set. Finally I could revisit my best friend, Freddy Krueger, any time I wanted.

As I grew up those movies became comfort food for my soul. The ways Krueger would torment his victims gave me pleasure. The bloody kills gave me satisfaction I can’t describe. I wanted nothing more than to escape into that nightmare world as often as I could. Then in 2003 something happened that changed it all.

New Line Cinema had acquired the rights to use Jason Vorhees, antagonist from the rival Friday the 13th horror franchise. This culminated in the release of a film fans had been dying to see for 20 years. Freddy vs. Jason. This movie provided me with a form of catharsis. Freddy was done. His deed were in the past. The franchise came to an end. This, in turn, was bittersweet for me. While I enjoyed the film for the burst of nostalgia it shot into my heart, I grew to despise it for ending the franchise I had become so fond of. As an adult I now know all things come to an end. Everything must die. Even our favorite media franchises and movie characters.

I have since gotten to a point where I can analyze horror from a more adult perspective. I see it as more than escapism. It’s a reflection of the harsh reality we all face from the moment the sperm forces itself into the egg. Death is inevitable.

Yesterday was Trans Day of Remembrance. As a trans person I can assure you I have all too many accounts of friends I have lost to violence either at the hands of others or, more sadly, their own. I sit here now reflecting on the lives we’ve lost and I wonder, why me? Why has life allowed my trouble heart to keep pumping blood into my broken body while others have stopped? What does this life have in store for me? What is my purpose in this life?

To tell stories is the answer. I can tell my own stories in hopes others can learn from my own troubles. I also tell stories my brain fabricates in hopes those stories help me make sense out of this twisted world we live in. Looking back on my life I probably wouldn’t have survived as long as I have if I hadn’t found comfort in those horror movies, especially the ones set in the nightmare world. My life is a nightmare I can’t wake up from. All I can do is summon my own dream powers and fight the evils that life throws at me with an ever stronger will.

Yesterday was Trans Day of Remembrance. I struggled all day to figure out what I wanted to do for the community for the day. I thought about doing a vlog but felt I’ve uploaded some really long videos lately and didn’t figure people were ready for more videos so soon. I thought about trying a stream of me playing some retro Sega games and chatting about trans awareness but I couldn’t get the streams configured properly so I threw in the towel. Ultimately I decided to write down my thoughts instead. I know this is a little late but I am staying awake all night so for  me, it’s still Monday even if the clock says it’s Tuesday now.

I don’t wanna make this day about me. While I am struggling in many ways similar to most trans people I know the purpose of the day is to remember those we’ve lost to violence and suicide.

A few years ago before I came out publicly I met a 12 year old trans girl who was living in a hateful home in Texas. She reached out to me on Twitter and despite getting into trouble with my employer, I spent my entire work day chatting with her via DMs because she was contemplating taking her life. In the end I lost her and that really messed me up. I was so heartbroken this girl was in such a position of turmoil she saw the only way out was to take her life. That sorta thing sticks with you.

I try to be a visible force for good in the trans community. While I have shifted away from covering trans-specific issues I believe my efforts to normalize us by producing content that is indistinguishable from non-trans voices it would show the world we’re just like them, regular normal people trying to live our lives. My desire, my hope is this will provide a path for young and closeted trans individuals who are struggling to find their way in this world.

I don’t have a ton of examples of people I’ve lost. I have lost a few good trans people but I don’t have the emotional fortitude right now to dig up all those stories today. Honestly one reason I shied away from the greater trans community is my goal of helping normalize us is to exist, as my authentic self, but not exclusively as a trans person. For me trans kids especially need to see other trans people who are like them. Gamers talking about video games. Comic book fans sharing their favorite comic stories. Horror fans discussing the ins and outs of their favorite horror movies. Whatever it is that interests you trans youth need to see trans voices who share those interests who’s entire identity isn’t centered around them just being trans.

I came to this conclusion last year when I came across an article of another trans teenager who took her life in a very visible way. I remember the outpouring of support her family received from our larger community. The saddest part of that story is her family didn’t even know she was trans. She didn’t know they would have been supportive. They themselves said they didn’t even think about it because they had no idea their kid was trans.

This is why we need to normalize trans people as regular people. We also need to increase awareness of the fears and hardships we face so good, well intentioned people can find the courage to tell their kids they will be accepted if they ever do discover they are trans. Parents need to nurture an environment where a young trans person who is questioning their identity can feel safe exploring that identity with the loving support of their family.

I wanna share a couple examples from my own life of trans people who went through this. I won’t share names or specifics to protect their identities but I will tell as much of their stories as I need to for this article.

The first is a transwoman I met online who was only partially out to her family. She is an older trans woman past her youth who was afraid to tell her whole family she was trans out of fear it would disrupt her living situation. This woman found herself at an unavoidable crossroads. She wanted to take her transition to the next level, medically transitioning and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide that from her family for long. Fortunately she found herself in the welcoming arms of a loving family who has shown her nothing but support ever since. Even now she tells me her family members she was worried about have said they had no idea the troubles trans people face. Her story educated her own local family turning them into supporters of the community as  a whole.

Another trans woman I know went through a similar situation but it wasn’t her family she was worried about losing. It was her spouse. She wrestled with telling her significant other she needed to transition for a long time and it led to mental health issues for her. When she did finally confide in her partner she was also welcomed with open arms. Now her and her partner are a healthy lesbian couple.

These heartwarming stories are rare but the fact is, they aren’t heartwarming at all. We shouldn’t have to be relieved for our community members who find themselves in the embrace of supportive family. Our family support should be a given. Put it another way when I first came out publicly my co-workers were quick to tell me how brave I was. But the thing is I shouldn’t have to be brave just to exist as my authentic self. Likewise no trans person no matter how young or old they are should ever face the fear of uncertainty that comes with telling their family. We should just all assume our families will loves us no matter what.

I feel our gay and lesbian brothers, sisters and others have had a little more time to find acceptance in society to the point where coming out as gay isn’t nearly as difficult as it was in decades past. However even our gay and lesbian friends and family still have to face those same fears.

On days like this, special days set aside for trans people we sometimes get caught up in our own struggle we forget the rest of the rainbow family that is going through their own struggles. We get so wrapped up in trans issues we neglect our bisexual and asexual community members.

We often find ourselves dismissive of gay and lesbian queers because we see it as they fought for and won their rights. We see it as now is our time and we brush them aside forgetting that, while things are better for them now than they were in the past, they’re still difficult for all of us.

So on what this Trans Day of Remembrance let’s absolutely do our best to honor and respect the trans lives we’ve lost. But let’s not brush aside our other queer friends and family in doing so. We’re all in this together. We’re all fighting for the same thing, the right to be treated like human beings with basic human rights. SO yes let’s remember the trans and gender non-confirming lives we’ve lost, let’s also take time to remember the rest of the queer community to.

We need to reach out to the rest of the community in times like this. One to get their support for our struggles but also reminding them they have our support in their continued struggles too. Let’s show the bigots the power of love that rainbow flag represents.

Let’s be stronger than the bigots expect us to be. They know we’re going to take our lives, that is literally what they want. We have to defeat them buy surviving. That is how we win. We refuse to go away and we force them to accept us as equals rather than as a burden they wanna be rid of. Only then will queer kids of all colors of that rainbow find the love an acceptance from their families as a universal expectation rather than a heartwarming exception.

I could start of with what even are dreams but this is not an essay on dream studies, whichever science that may be. This is a complex dive into the dreams that plague me as a person. Those flashing images that haunt my sleepless nights.

I have 2 reoccurring dreams I classify as nightmares. The first is of me being hunted. The details differ from dream to dream but the theme remains the same every time. Some evil force is chasing me trying to kill me. In some dreams this evil force is literal Nazi’s trying to take me to wherever they killed queer people. In some dreams the evil force is zombies trying to infect me with the virus that afflicts them. In some dreams it is a gangster, mob boss, corrupt cop or other “bad guy with a gun” trying to put bullets into my body. The specifics are not the point of the dream. What matters is something bad is always chasing me trying to do bad things to me. I have literally had some variation of this dream every single night since I was at least 16 years old.

The second reoccurring dream I classify as a nightmare is my being back in high school. This one is complicated because again the details differ with each instance of this dream but the theme is always the same. I am my age as I am now, whichever point in time I have had that dream I was that age so at 28 I was 28 in the dream in high school, etc. Then I fail an assignment I spend most of the dream struggling to complete. During my subsequent thrashing from the teacher for “not living up to my potential” I suddenly realize, wait  minute I already got my GED what the hell am I doing in high school? I then walk out and continue the dream elsewhere.

I classify this as a nightmare for a couple of reasons. First my time in high school was not pleasant. Sure it is true I was the most popular kid in my school. Okay but to be fair there were only 50 kids in my school and the only measure I had of being popular was I was elected student council president and everybody knew who I was. I was also a staple at all the parties because I could DJ, breakdance and rap on the mic. I was an entertainer. But this was not an easy proposition mind you. First I had to, let’s face it, bully, step on, push down and walk on top of other people to get to the top. This was not a good time for me because I was a lousy person and I don’t get pleasure remembering this time in my life.

Second of all my time in and immediately following high school was crime ridden. I dare not go into details but I was in a gang and I was a person of power in said gang. A real street gang that carried guns, trafficked drugs and other illegal substances and had cops on the payroll. I was NOT a good person back then. I kept my hands clean by being the brains. I told others what to do and it was up to them to carry it out at their own free will. I never told anyone what to do I just spelled out what could be done and let them figure out the logistics on their own.

Third of all despite being “popular” and in a communion with criminals, I was still kind of a dork and not well liked in the romantic sense. I had “friends” and followers and I had cohorts and homies, but I never had romantic, nor sexual, partners. I was utterly alone.

I do not wish to revisit this time in my life because it was painful for me. Painful because of the things I did to others to be popular. Painful because of the things others did at my suggestion. Painful because I was lonely and nobody truly wanted ME around, they wanted “that guy” around and I hated being that guy.

Let’s backtrack to the someone’s chasing me dream.

This is rooted in real life trauma. I dare not go into specifics but let’s say that someone went to prison because I put them there. This person and their associates threatened my life on more than one occasion. So there is a real life fear of a thug with a gun coming for me. This is and always has been in the back of my mind.

Then there is the other stuff. My aunt being kidnapped, raped and murdered. This spawned a fear the same would happen to me. Then there was the serial killer in our family tree. This also instilled a fear the same could happen to me. Not that I would become the killer but rather the victim of said person. Then there is my uncle who tried to molest me. So there is a fear of adults trying to cause me harm. Combined with everything else I have real life fears of being hunted and hurt in very bad ways. This manifests in my daily nightmares.

I have watched more episodes of Friends than any other movie or TV show combined. I have never once had any dream with any of the Friends in it. I have played every single mainline Super Mario game ever made. I have never once dreamed I was a super hero plumber. I watch horror movies nearly every single day. These do not influence my dreams whatsoever. I have seen no movie more than I have seen A Nightmare on Elm Street and it’s many sequels. I have never, in my entire life once had a dream with Freddy Krueger in it.

Then there is my spiritual practice. I do not have dreams with evil spirits in them. I do not have dreams with ghosts, banshees, fey or demons. I never have. My practice of communicating with the dead, other spirits and spiritual forces does not and has not ever influenced my nightmares. My dreams are the byproduct of years of guilt, shame and trauma.

How many times have I said “this is what I wanna do with my life?” Too many to count. Hey I had a good run as a pizza driver. Then as a wedding DJ, and a professional journalist. In my lifetime I have had over 100 jobs starting at age 12. One thing I have learned is this, I don’t really have any one thing I wanna do with my life. I wanna experience it all. I wanna keep trying new jobs not until I find the perfect fit but until I have satisfied my curiosity.

When I was 8 years old all I wanted to do was grow up and become a Paleontologist. Nothing was going to sway me from this. Until I was 11 and wanted to be an electrician. Then it was radio DJ. The list goes on. The point is I never settled on the one thing I always wanted to do. I don’t have a dream job, I have multiple dream jobs of which gratefully I have had many.

I learned there is no such thing as the perfect job. You have to find the good in everything you do. It’s how we cope with our miserable lives. They say if you love your job you’ll never work a day in your life. That’s rubbish. Even dream jobs are hard work. Right now the job I have is the right job for me. When this job expires the next job I dig up will be the right job for me. This will continue either until I retire or I die. For now I am content. Really that is all anyone can truly ask for.