• traveling, sleeping in, reading, homecooked meals, photography, quentin tarantino movies, the smell of new guitars, vertical stripes, lights, mardi gra, studded belts, food network, chinese take-out, pen pals, 80’s music, 80’s hair, donald trump, acoustic guitars, live music, webcams, snow globes, friendship bracelets, swimming, key chains, writing, art museums, watching the stars, space centers, text messaging, video games, recording music, watch movies, cable tv, candles, sex, partying, girls girls girls & yard sales.
Dislikes:
• liars, backstabbers, being impatient, being put on hold, elevator music, escalators, sharks, disco music, being late, drama, stress, debating, politics, female product commercials, children of all sorts, children tv shows, reality television, screaming music, illiterate people, pessimistic people, highschool, jehovah witness, Barbie commercials, uptight people, slow drivers, & people who take things for granted.
• double jointed . allergic to morphine . been to rehab for alcohol abuse four times . cried for six weeks straight after one of his fish died when he was seven . when he was in highschool, he went two years without cleaning his room .
Hobbies:
• playing guitar, video games, reading, dating, going to shows, running, swimming, drawing, listening to music, watch tv, sleeping, traveling, meeting new people .
Family:
• Kurt Malcolm Dubois; father deceased Adrian Belle Dubois; mother Emile August Dubois; younger sister
History:
” Insecurities are about as useful as trying to put the pin back in the grenade”
• baby steps
“If you were to ask my mother, Adrian, you’d learn that I was a rotten child. According to her, from the second I came out of the womb, I was running around. My father, Kurt, along with my mother was proud of me. As I look back, I never took anything seriously and I did what I wanted, as I pleased. Being born two months and eighteen days early, I was rather small growing up. I learned how to crawl at five months and it was only a faster way to dunk things in the toilet and flushing them down, seeing if they’d sink or float. Once I tried flushing my mom’s engagement ring, my dad practically had to break apart the toilet to get it out. I was always on the run, getting into things I shouldn’t be. By the time I learned how to walk, I was reaching (and failing) to get a hold of everything, I’d happily run away with the remote. But I don’t really think my parents would trade me for anything, I was there’s.”
“And my parents were happy and in love. They never fought, at all. I saw how my dad would kiss my mom whenever he came home and it was the one kiss I knew wasn’t full of cooties. Growing up, we lived in a small apartment; my parents could only afford the little things. My father got laid off, a lot, with most jobs he worked at. My mom worked at a local coffee shop and always smelled like coffee beans and cinnamon. I’d go with my mother to work; there was a back room and a small little play room for all the waitress’ kids. Those kids ended up being the friends I happily grew up with. My parents did what they could, when they could. When I was four, my dad took us all out for a drive up in the mountains. Next thing we know, we’re parked in front of a big brown house, it looked like a mansion to me but I was so young. Then he said, ‘honey, we’re home’. My mom cried, a lot. I just liked it because there was a backyard with a swing set. Turned out, a close family relative had passed away and left us the house. It was the dream house, three floors, a large backyard, and we were able to get pets! It’s like our happily ever after.”
“That house was boss. I made new friends that went to the local elementary, mom decided to work from home, working on the novels she was never able to finish while she was pregnant with my baby sister, Emile. My father went back to his carpenter job. We were well off, the house was already paid for and everything was just so easy. There were hardly ever money troubles. I would come home every day and lay on the couch with my mom, playing with my toy cars on her enormous stomach. In August, during the second day of school, she went into labor and I was picked up by my dad who had already started crying with joy. We rushed to the hospital and after six hours of labor, I had a baby sister, Emile August Dubois. I enjoyed being an older brother; I told myself I’d be very protective over her, over every little thing. My father even bought my sister a shirt that read, ‘I have the bestest big brother’. After Emile was born, our family was content, perfect, and we were all happy. I never wanted anything to change; I wanted everything to stay the way it was.”
“When I was nine, walking along the halls of our happy home wasn’t too happy. Everything was silenced. Emile hardly cried or talked, my mother wasn’t nosily typing away at the computer. The whole family sat down on the couch in the piano room and stared out the window, waiting for dad to come home. But we all knew he wouldn’t. When I was nine, my father was killed in a car accident. He had only gone out to get a little desert for the family. We waited for hours, wondering where he was. Emile had brought her Barbie’s to the window seal and acted out our family except I was being played by Skipper. Mom had made tea that went cold quickly as she waited for dad. At nine thirty seven, Emile and I rushed to beat each other to the phone, Emile ended up winning and said hello in her childlike voice. She immediately handed the phone to mom and we watched mom nod her head a lot. Then mom did something we’ve never seen her do before, she burst out crying. The tears were so heavy and quick that she fell to the ground. Emile crawled in her lap as mom hung up the phone. I could see panic written all over her face. She looked back and forth between Emile and I while she tried to calm down. All she said was, ‘Daddy, got in a car accident and we have to go to the hospital’. It was a long night, that night. We all impatiently waited in the waiting room, Emile fell asleep on my lap as little sobs escaped her small body. When a doctor, dressed in all navy blue, ushered for mom to follow, she instantly hopped up and I sat there with Emile. I was never a very religious person but for the first time, I actually prayed to God that he’d be okay. That he was only bruised up, that he’d make it. A few minutes later, my mom came back, her eyes were red and puffy. It was written all over her young face, Kurt Malcolm Dubois was dead. I tried to remain strong for mom and Emile, I tried not to cry in front of them, I helped around the house more than I usually did. I kept myself busy at all times, trying not to think about how I just lost my best friend.”
• teenage years
“When high school started, I immediately fit in. The summer before freshman year did me some good. I was 5’11”, tan, and well equipped with muscle. Also, I already knew what I was good at and wanted to find people who were into the same things I were. During middle school, I didn’t have a problem finding out who I am. My name is Xander Eugene Dubois, I love art, and I play some mean guitar. And yes, all the girls did swoon over the musician thing. My best friend growing up in high school was Matthew Taylor. He was definitely the best friend I could have ever asked for and we started our own band during freshman year. We played at a few parties, a few local churches, but nothing was major. Also, during freshman year, I started noticing the opposite sex and was fully aware they noticed me. I think I ‘dated’ twelve girls freshman year, four of which I was able to date at the same time. By the end of freshman year, I was labeled the player. I think I dated so many people, started that band, and focused on art classes just to get out of the house. We still had the same house dad lived in, we had relatives help pay for bills. Mom went into a deep depression and laid in bed all day, Emile was homeschooled and helped take care of her. I was selfish for not staying home but I didn’t want my depression or something to get the best of me. I regret not laying around the house with my mom when she needed me and I regret not being close to my sister. I just didn’t want to become them and mope all the goddamn time. I wanted to live my life the way my father would’ve wanted.”
“Sophomore year was a little different. I was having a lot of trouble in school only because I chose to skip all the time with Matthew and a few of our little groupies. We’d always go to the lake near the school and hook-up. I lost my virginity at fifteen to some tramp named Lucy who’d been around the ball park a few times, if you catch my drift. It never bothered me all that much, I didn’t want an actual committed girlfriend. I didn’t want any sort of commitment. All I wanted was my guitar, my band, and a good party to go to. My mom started working again at a local bookstore and Emile was finally able to go to an elementary school. I’d walk her to school and back from school because the elementary, middle, and high school were all right next to each other. I guess I could’ve been more supportive for her; she had a lot of trouble fitting in. But my ego became a part of me and I just, I didn’t know what to do or what was wrong with me. I love my sister and I love my mom but I got to the point where my selfishness was too blown out of control to stop. I eventually stopped coming home after school, Emile would walk home alone. I’d spend all my time smoking with Matthew and our groupies, playing guitar, and drawing. The times I was at home were spent up in my bedroom, writing new songs and drawing. At one point, my room was filled with lyrics and drawings. For my mother’s birthday, I drew a portrait of dad. Of how he would be if he was still alive. She immediately framed it and I guess, that’s when I realized mom did need me. I was sick of being selfish. I was sick of not mourning. I was ready to mourn.”
“Junior year is where all the fun really began. I got my license, I got a car, and I drove everywhere. I still spent a lot of time with Matthew and our other band members but I still had time to take my sister out to the movies every Friday night and have dinners with my mom every week night. I had really changed. I felt more mature and I had a better overall look at life. I started recording my own music in my basement, I started selling E.P’s but it just never really got anywhere. I ended up winning a lot of art shows though because abstract things are really my thing. I got into photography too because I got a really nice Nikon for my seventeenth birthday. So, I only really bothered with art for awhile. I also met a girl, a girl I can honestly say I fell in love with. This one girl who had really taken my world by storm; everything she did was perfect and magical and so incredibly unbelievable. But she wanted nothing to do with me, she was a good girl. She wasn’t into musicians, she had actual ambitions. And to get closer to her, I made up some fake ambitions; I was a completely different person whenever I was around her. I also, stopped partying thanks to her? I didn’t focus on music much, either. But I guess, when I told her how I felt, she still wouldn’t have me. I got angry, I got really really angry. I remember yelling at her, asking her why she couldn’t see me for who I was and how I changed myself for her. After that rejection, I never really saw much point of going to school the next few weeks. I’d fake sick and Matthew would bring me all my work. I guess my heart was broken, I’m only guessing. But something throbbed inside of me and I was never really an emotional person, I barely mourned over my father’s death. My mother ended up coming into my room one night after I picked up my guitar and started writing a new song. And I told her everything. I told her about the girl, about the skipping, about the sex, about the drugs, and drinking. I spent hours telling her how I felt about dad and everything else. I could honestly say I was depressed. And all she told me is without love you won’t survive.”
•all grown up
“I ended up dropping out of high school a few weeks after senior year. It looks bad now but at the time, it just wasn’t for me. I was failing pretty much everything because I never bothered to succeed in school. So, when I turned eighteen, that summer, I went on tour for the first time with my band. We mainly hit up churches and coffee houses. We had an agent but he wasn’t really popular and we didn’t care. All we wanted to do was play our music because it made up for stuff we all missed or messed up in life. All our songs were based on memories. I wrote a lot about that girl and my dad. I also wrote a few about my mom and my sister. If you were to hear the lyrics, you can just feel the emotion behind him. I wrote about a lot of things while on that tour. We also met some amazing people who really changed our lives. We ended up playing in Oakland, California and I guess we all fell in love with the place. We met some awesome people and that’s when I decided that someday, one day, I’d move there. After that tour that summer, I went home for about a year and spent it all with my family. I owed my mom everything. I couldn’t thank her enough for all she’s done for me. She has made the largest impact in my life.”
“Well, I ended up moving to Oakland when I turned twenty and only stayed for a few months, then I went back on tour with my band. Oakland is so much more confusing than I ever thought; my player ways hit the streets while I was here. I made a lot of mistakes with a few people and hurt some good people, as well. But while I was touring, I went to Vegas, Nevada and played in a club and I guess, I noticed a dancer named Sara but she went by Kiki. Did I mention I married her? Yeah, while I was gone for a few months, I got married and I got divorced. I learned things about Kiki that I never wanted to learn about anyone else. I fell in love with the idea of her, I guess. And maybe I had a little too much to drink when I said ‘I do’. She doesn’t compare to that girl in high school, I guess I just wanted to be in love and have someone in love with me. Was it all a mistake? Most definitely not. It was more of a learning experience and I learned that I can’t find someone for me, they have to find me. But I’m not a very patient person so, this is much harder than I thought.”
“Now, here I am, back in Oakland, here to stay for real this time. I can’t leave anymore, I’ve picked up and left too much as it is. So, hi, my name is Xander, I’m twenty years old. I’m a fun loving vegan who loves animals, playing guitar, and I usually bring my guitar or sketchpad everywhere. I listen to music religiously, I’m really laid-back and not headstrong. I care about a lot of people but I’ve come to choose my friends wisely. After I left, I was never able to stay in touch with the ones who meant the most so I’m not sure where I am now. I’m twenty and I’m still learning who I am. I’m a momma’s boy and I keep in touch with her on a daily basis. I never used to be family oriented until recently. Take me as I am because I will never be anyone else.”
Phrase (Read rules):
We are the nobodies Wanna be somebodies We're dead, we know just who we are
Yasmin Branch - August 18, 2008 08:27 PM (GMT)
Sorry you now have to put the names of your charry not just initials.