(Devin:The Story of Me) Chapter One:An Origin Story

As far as beginnings go, mine is is pretty inglorious. In fact, I do not exactly remember every event sequence for sequence but I will certainly give it a shot. Most of this when it comes to my early years (pre-kindergarten, etc) are things that I have learned from my parents and other family members, so if anyone who is in the know notices some things out of sequence, you know why.

I was born on a almost-summer day on June 12th 1989 in a medium sized college town known as Eugene, Oregon. According to what I remember my mom telling me, I was born sometime around 11 in the morning, as for how long she was in labor,I honestly have no idea because that is not really information I ever asked for.

A little about my parents…My moms name was Kelly and my dad was Lon. My parents dated in high school (where they met) and considering the 9 month pregnancy, that would mean my mom became pregnant with me about a year after she graduated high school (and a month after her 19th birthday).

My Dad, Lon was a semi-truck driver, something he would do in varying forms for a long time. If I had to describe my Dads personality I would describe him as fairly easy going but with a slightly strict and a little intimidating side. He was the kind of person that you really didn’t want to disappoint. As for the strict part, he was not strict in a traditional sense, because he never gave me any hard punishment (no spankings, nothing verbal or anything like that) but he expected the best from me and for the most part I wanted to show it to him. I think my Dad tried hard to not be like his own father, and to be the kind of Dad he wanted to be, not the one he grew up with. My dad has two siblings, one brother, Alan and a sister Franki. From what I remember, my Dad grew up in Reedsport, Oregon and moved to Eugene in high school.

Now a little about my Mom, Kelly. My mom was kinda hot-headed. She had a temper and a mouth that was legendary, but never with me or my brother. I can never remember her having any career aspirations (or never mentioned to me) but she was perfectly happy working retail jobs and being a mom. My mom hardly ever punished me, even when I was legitimately bad, she would never spank me or do anything like that. Sure I was grounded and other things like it but never anything too intense. My mom had three siblings, two sisters, Cathy and Karie and a brother, Scott.. Mom grew up in Eugene as well..so I guess Eugene is in the family

The first few years of my life were pretty unremarkable, Very few significant events and nothing too out of the ordinary except for one incident when I was two.

When you are two years old, most kids can be sort of pesky, especially to teenage girls. I was at my Step-Grandma Bevs house being watched by her while my parents were at work. I imagine I was being annoying to my Aunt Franki and trying to get into her room and she did not want me in there. At one point she shut (slammed?) the door, but what she didnt know was that my left index finger happened to be in the door and..well the door sliced right through it and knocked it clean off! Luckily I was not maimed as Bev managed to get the severed digit on ice and whisk me to the hospital, still kicking and screaming the whole time. The hospital managed to reattach my finger and in fact I am typing with it now, and it has color and a growing nail (albeit the nail grows in weird) and feeling in it! 23 years later, I still joke around with my Aunt and call her “the finger cutter”

I was an only child for a short while because about 2 years and 1 1/2 months after I was born, my brother, Brandon was born. I cant remember if I was excited to be a big brother, though as most kids usually are I imagine I was.

Because both of my parents worked during my first few years, I was babysitted a lot when I was young. Though I was at Bevs during my finger severing, a lot of the time I was at my Great-Grandma Faulhabers house, who Brandon and I affectionately referred to as “Grandma Willie” as she had a dog named Willie and I guess as kids you make up your own things to call people. Often joining Brandon and I at “Grandma Willies” was our cousin, Matt. Matt was 4 months older than me and my Aunt Cathys son. Brandon, Matt and I grew up together and we were all pretty close. We remained close to our cousins when Matts brother, Aaron was born several years later (though admittedly Brandon was closer to Aaron than I) and even when a few years after that our cousin and Matt and Aarons sister, Melissa was born. Matt, Aaron and Melissa were all our Aunt Cathys kids and we were all pretty close. My Aunt Karie and Uncle Scott had kids too but they both lived kinda far away back then and we never got to know their kids like we did Cathys.

When Brandon and I were young, we moved around a lot. We lived in various places around Eugene and Springfield (the adjacent city to Eugene) and we also lived in Junction City, Oregon, Lewiston, Idaho and a place called Boring, Oregon (and it was exactly as the name implied). When you are that young, you dont really care so much about all the moving, as we didnt go to school yet and didnt exactly have a group of friends yet, but I remember we missed going to Grandma Willies and hanging out with our cousins. For the most part, we were all a big, happy family, as far as my brother and I knew..but there was trouble brewing underneath the surface…

Devin:The Story of me..Prologue

As A writer, I am constantly looking for new methods of communicating the written word. In my journals and in the bowels of my computer I have many different things that I have written. Countless memoirs and musings; half written short stories;A 200 page fantasy novel that I still have not finished;several free form poems, soliloquies and haikus . One of the items im most proud of is my handwritten 130 page autobiography, or as I call of it “My Life (At least what I remember of it).

Why would someone like me write my own biography? It was a means of self discovery. A way for me to look back at my life and reflect on some of the choices that I have made, and the events that have shaped me to be the way that I am now.

Originally, I only wrote it for me. I told myself “I might be writing this, but I dont really need to share it with anyone”. But I realized that the beauty of the written (or in this case the typed word) is the ability to share it with others. So I decided yesterday that I will use the power of the internet and my blog to publish one chapter of it a day.

I have about thirty chapters, so over the course of the next few months, I will publish one chapter at a time. As for the frequency, I am already pretty infrequent with posting on my blog anyway…besides, I dont think very many people read this anyway…

My intro

Contained in these pages is a factual account of my life from my early years all the way to my 19th year when I graduated high school. The people and events contained in these pages are all real and in no way are made up. As for complete accuracy, I cannot guarantee that I remember every event, as I am not extremely good with remembering things from my far past. The meaty part of this story will begin around when I was in 5th grade, when I determined that my life went from strait and narrow to convoluted and different than your normal child.

I will do my best to not reveal any information that I deem the public should not be informed about with other people, but full disclosure with events in my own life (though I can think of some people that would have it coming). As for any family or people that are very much a part of this story that might be reading, you might learn a thing or two about me, but if anything I do puts you in a bad light I do apologise but many of these events are many years in the past and understand that my feelings at that time might not be something you like to read but if you are still in my life right now, then im over it .

As for my less (or not at all) involved readers (if there are any) thanks for reading and feel free to post comments or questions but understand that I will not reveal any information about other people. Have a fantastic day and happy reading!

“That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald

A Twisted Path

I havent written any poetry for a while but i have been feeling pretty inspired for the last couple weeks..so heres one I just came up with



There exists a path. it is not a path that you would enjoy to walk. It has no flowers, no sights and no sunlit landscape. What it does have is darkness, thorns and dangers.
I found myself going down this path, downtrodden, defeated and dumbfounded…the woes of the world weighed heavily upon my legs.
I walked down this twisted path, head to the ground, hands in my pockets. heart heavy with worries. Devoid of light I continued upon my direction, no destination in mind..just endless miles…
Then I heard a voice…it was faint and quiet but made me look up. It said “I miss you”. Deep did I search for who said it, I called out, I turned around, I ran.Then..I saw her face
My head sprang up, my hands shot out my heart felt lighter as I ran to her. Light poured in from the sky and illuminated the darkness as I ran to her, a smile beaming from her face
And all of a sudden, the twisted path wasnt so twisted anymore
by Devin Knieriem

Bitterness…the eternal enemy of the optimist

I would like to say that I am an optimistic person. I try and look on the bright side of things, no matter how dark the subject is. When someone makes a joke about me I try and laugh along with it because there is no need to get mad over a joke. Self-Deprecating humor comes easy to me because I know my flaws and I run with them.

Honestly, I could be a bitter person. I didnt exactly get where I wanted to go in school, im currently single while everyone around me is spouting off about how happy they are in their relationships. I work long hours into the night while most of my friends spend their nights partying and telling me about what a good time they have…but truth is that I just dont care.

I like my job and I like bullshitting with my coworkers; I dont really care that im not in any kind of relationship because im only 24, not 50. I still have plenty of time to get going in a career, in fact ive thought that if and when I go back to school that I might forgo journalism and instead focus on getting an english degree and a teaching license and teach one of the things that I am truly passionate about…writing.Also, I could always do freelance journalism as a hobby because you dont even need a degree for that,

dont be bitter, life is too short to go around telling people how sad you are because of extenuating circumstances that happen to you. Besides…people who are happier live longer, a proven scientific fact (science bitch look it up!)

Ill leave you with this…

“Let them see that their words can cut you and you’ll never be free of the mockery. If they want to give you a name take it make it your own. Then they can’t hurt you with it anymore.”  Tyrion Lannister, Game of Thrones



Moving on up…

If you were to ask me a year ago if I would ever be in a position to move up with my job I would of said no way in hell. I had just started at Winco and I was slow, only just started to learn where everything was and was really quiet..preferred to just blend in and do my job, then go home. Ask me now..and I would say something far different

I was told yesterday that I might be next in line for the Lead Clerk position…I was asked if I would even want it and I shrugged it off like “Sure, why not” but truth be told….I definitely want it. I know I could do it, and I know I would be good at it and I want it. Keep in mind that I would have to apply for it and go through the interview process and as of now they are not looking for any more candidates..but next time they are looking for people to apply for Lead Clerk I will definitely apply for it, and when I get the interview I will blow the Store Manager away and when I get the job, I will rock it

Confidence and cockiness are not to be confused..I have confidence im not cocky

A tribute to an old friend

Yesterday was kind of a hard day for me. I lost someone very close to me…I lost my cat, Bobby. I know, its only a cat, and I should be a man and pretend that I dont have feelings and guys are supposed to like dogs and all those masculine stereotypes but I really dont care.

I had that cat for 18 years…18 YEARS! I am only 24 years old so I have had her for most of my life. We got her when she was only 2 months old. She was one of 2 survivors of her litter after it was attacked by an older tomcat that found them. She was originally going to be my brothers cat, as I already had one at the time named Gizmo, but Gizmo died a few years later and Brandon and I shared her.

Oh, and as for her name, im sure that anyone reading this noticed that she was a girl cat and her name was Bobby..well we were originally going to have a male cat, and the man that my mom was dating at the time was going to get to name it. He wanted to name it Bob, but then there was the aforementioned accident with the tomcat, so we ended up getting a girl, but he kept the name. We tried to change it after my mom wasnt dating the guy anymore but Bob stuck…we just called her Bobby cause it sounded at least slightly like it could be feminine.

Bob was with us forever. We moved at least half a dozen times and took her with us. One time when we were living out in the Amazon area of Springfield, our crazy neighbor took her and wouldnt give her back, but we got her back.She was around for me when my mom died and ever so slightly helped my brother and I with our grief. Even when I moved to live with my dad after Mom died and I couldnt take her with me, she stayed at my Grandmas for 4 years, and when I moved back there after I turned 18 she was there waiting for me

Not many pets will last for 18 years…hell not many of them last for ten, but Bobby did. She lived a long and prosperous life, having 3 litters of kittens, one of which from her first litter is still alive and kicking as my Great-Grandmothers cat. Bobby was more than my pet though..she was family…It will be hard for a while when I see her empty food dish, but its okay….Say hi to my mom for me Bobby



Moving On (from town to town)

I really need to get out of here..and by here I dont just mean Eugene, I mean the whole state of Oregon. I have lived here my whole life and I am damn tired of it.  Im not a hippie, im not a redneck which automatically excludes me from the two biggest groups in this god forsaken state.

Everyone I know, my family and friends all talk about how much they love Oregon and how they never want to leave…some ask me why I would want to leave such a “wonderful” place..Apparently, there is a good quality of life here, its a great place to raise a family at and blah, blah ,blah..truth is that I do not give a f^%k..Im single, I have no prospects at the moment..I waste all my thoughts on a girl who is obviously out of my league (and not single anyway) and even if I wasnt all these things I just listed, I wouldnt want to stay in Oregon anyway…

Whenever my opportunity comes I fully intend to leave this state and never live here again (odds are that I will end up coming back for family and friend visits)..Where will I go? I want to live a big city life..im not talking about fricking Portland..I hate Portland and I would never live there…I have thought about 5 places where I would go…Seattle cause it seems like the kind of place I would mesh in well,New Orleans for the fantastic food and fascinating history with all the french influence, Indianapolis because of all the major midwest cities, I think I would enjoy living in most,San Francisco because i find it to be one of the most fascinating and exciting cities in the country, and New York City because I definitely could become a New Yorker and because I would love to live on the East Coast (my younger brother insists its awful but him and I are completely different people).

I wont be here forever…..I cant….I think I was never born to be an Oregonian


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