1985 ~ RoadMaps, Perverts & Broken Hearts


I suppose everybody has a year (or two, or three) where they made some really drastic turns off of the main road on the map of life.  In layman’s terms… serious fuck ups.

 This is the year that I was faced with a blue million grown up choices while I was still fifteen.  Situations that I put myself into without any thought of any kind of consequence. Because afterall, nobody had ever told me no or told me I was wrong.

This is the year that would change my life forever in more ways than I can count.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sitting here boo-hooing about all the things I did or how everything turned out.  Oh, helllll no.  I am who I am because of every little thing I chose to do or not do.

So, let the drama roll, shall we?


This is the year I met my baby daddy.  Quite by chance actually.  I was tooling about on my bike ride for the week, when this ol’ boy peddled ass up to me and grabbed a handful of Diva boob.

Him:  “Nice tits.”

Me (in my most natural bitchy state): “Fuck you.”

Must have scared the shit out of him that someone could be so crude and vulgar and he took off peddlin ass the speed of light.  I slowed up a little, watching him go on his merry way.    As it turns out, his conscience got to him and he waited at the next overpass to apologize.  Guess he wasn’t so much as asshole as he was fucking full of himself.


This is the year Good Friday wasn’t all so good.  Good Friday was the day my Mom picked me up from school, carted my ass to the doctor’s office and got the positive test results.

 Ya see, bike boy and me fooled around and created offspring.  My Daddy got the news and told bike boy if he ever showed his face around me again he’d die a swift death.


This was the year I saw my Daddy cry twice.

Once when he found out his baby was pregnant.

Once when he first held my little baby girl.


This is the year I became a bona fide statistic.  A teen mom.

This is the year I beat the statistics and went back to school instead of dropping out.


This was the year I lost my hot as all hell figure and turned into fluff.


This is the year my Daddy decided California living was way too fast.

He packed us all up and moved to Tennessee.


This is the year that I realized my life would never be the same.


My life by the musical note for the year 1985.


George Michael- Careless Whisper- music to have a broken heart by.


Simple Minds – Don’t You Forget About Me – from the Breakfast Club – Good memories. 


 Til Tuesday – Voices Carry–  Keeps a girl from cryin


17 Responses to “1985 ~ RoadMaps, Perverts & Broken Hearts”

  1. Diva, You are truly amazing…I love being your Blogging sistah~~
    Sugar to YOU

  2. My own wife was one of those statistics many years ago. It wasn’t my baby, but she was a teen mom and had a lot of shit to deal with. In many ways, she is still dealing with it.

    My hat’s off to you Diva. It’s not easy to deal with an unexpected pregnancy at any age, but especially tough for a teenager.

  3. You’re one tough cookie! Amazing story. Sounds like a good guy that Daddy of yours!

  4. I still LOVE the Breakfast Club. I watch it every time its on TV.

    GOOD FOR YOU Beating the statistics and going back to school. THAT is AWESOME.

  5. ps…year my body turned to fluff….hahahahahaha

  6. Damn Diva why you give up da sugah to bike boy for???
    I’m thinkin your year certainly would have been better had you listened to Haggard and Jones.

  7. I’m really enjoying this ride through time with you.

  8. Wow…that’s one hell of a way to remember the year….good for you for not giving up!! You rock!! xo

  9. rantingdiva Says:

    Judy- You’re pretty amazing yourself, Sister!

    Mike- Thanks. It’s was tough, but well worth it in the end.

    Lynn- My Daddy is top notch.

    Meleah- One of my favorites too.

    Sage- As it turned out, bike boy was Satan.

    Leighann- I’m glad your sitting by me on this rollercoaster.

    Lisa- Thanks, girl!

  10. Gotta try that “nice tits” line on the secretary at work. What’s the worst that could happen??

  11. man you rock..I love the no give up attitude..keep it up goodlooking…:))

  12. Great post Diva! My first child was born in 1985 too…but I was an old gal – 27…& let’s just say “in between marriage #1 & #2″…looking back on it…I was pretty messed up! But as you say; “I am who I am because of every little thing I chose to do or not do.” God Bless You Sweetie!

  13. I had some pretty big hair round about that year,Yes I sure did!

  14. rantingdiva Says:

    Dyck- With your run for the Presidency, I would suggest your make crude sexual advances at every woman in your immediate vicinity.

    Robert- That swell attitude does disappear for a while in the future.

    Olga- There’s a summit at the top of every hill.

    PP- I had mall hair too, Mamas!!!

  15. My mom had me when she was 16, your not alone, and I know some 14 and 15 year olds who are well….with baby….

    but look how u turned out…u rock;)

    I posted a link to a video I made of me doing karaoke last nite..enjoy;)

  16. My mom was 15 when she shit me out. Thank the late Jesus Christ I don’t own a daughter people because I would sooo super glue, staple, duct tape, and sew her vagina closed. It works too. I did it to a cat that was knocked up and dropping off her kittens at my house all the time.

  17. Natalie ( divas Offspring) Says:

    Hey all I am the lucky child she had at 15! LOL
    Diva Rocks ! Super Mom and a Great friend!!!!!!!
    I just luv my momma Diva

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: