I'm finally back online... :)
Well, I'm back. Sorry I was gone for one for so long, my puppy Gizmo chewed on my laptop charger, so I couldn't use it, haha. I just watched the episode of Paris Hilton's My New BFF. My mom and dad think that it's pretty weird that I like competive reality shows. But I can't help it; they are so addicting. Soooo, it was REALLY good. I hope Stephanie wins; She's my favorite. :D
I've been having this problem with my family going on... I wanted to have a family barbeque for my 16th birthday with just my family. ( I want to celebrate with my friends seperate; It's hard to celebrate in a trailer park lol. ) And my cousin Amanda said I could have it at her house... But my mom didn't really like that idea because I think she's planning something special for me... On Friday, my grandmother took me to my Aunt Gail's house, and what happened was shocking. I had told my Aunt that I didn't have a bathing suit, and when she asked why (apparently, they are on sale EVERYWHERE.) I told her that we had to conserve money. I know I didn't and still don't NEED a bathing suit; It's not a nessesity. But, of course, she had extras, so she said I could borrow one of her's to go swimming in her pool. It was a black one piece, and I think I looked really good in it. My aunt noticed it too, and told me "I got that for Amanda when she was pregnate; it looks great on you!" (Amanda is my aunt's daughter.) I knew she meant it as a compliment, and I appriciated it... But all I could think about was the word "pregnate". My mom had made a snide comment about the word relateing to me before during the Father's Day Weekend in Tehachipi, but nothing ever since. ( My mom said she was sorry and that she was joking; then she got me books. I understood completely. Besides, I love my mom.) It stuck... Hard. I felt gross and huge and chubby and fat. I wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out again. But, instead of all those options, I said "Thank you." the best I could and dived underwater. But that's not even the worst thing; They started talking about my brother. They weren't bad mouthing him or anything, nothing like that. They told me about how he grew up around them all the time; how his emotions were and how he played and how he laughed and how he did EVERYTHING. They knew so much about him, and instead of enjoying the loveable stories, I wanted to cry so much. My brother and I have a HUGE age difference (19 years apart) and I don't know him very well. I know he has got some of my blood, even more than my grandmother's and my aunt's. It really sucked. So I talked about it to my mom and dad yesterday, mainly my mom. I asked my mom how much Ken hanged around with my dad's side of the family (which would be my aunt and grandmother) and she told me "Did they say _________ and _________ and _______?" and surprisingly, they did. So I asked how she knew and she told me that they said the same thing when she entered the family (She's ken's Stepmom, but he always calls her mom. she came into the family when he was ten and I've never seen him closer with anyone else in the family besides my dad.) Apparently, Ken turned out SO great that it only happened with THEIR help. Ken never stayed with my aunt in Las Vegas for a whole summer after he moved to Bakersfield with my mom and dad; it was only less than 2 weeks because he left for home early. It made me realize that they really did NOT like my mom... and that even though I had half of my dad's blood, I also had half of my mom's and that they could possibly resent me for that. It sucks, but I know i'm going to stick by my mom no matter what.
My friend Madison came over today and we hung out. She did my nails! :) She painted them black and put pink flowers on them. She thought they looked like sea stars. I love them because they are STILL BEAUTIFUL. After she left, I talked with my mom and dad more and my mom fell down the steep steps we have in the trailer. That was the first time I heard my mom really curse. I've never even thought of hearing the F word in my own home. My jaw dropped. My mom might have twisted/fractured/broken her knee! :O My dad kept saying that she was okay, but I was still scared. So if she doesn't feel better by tomorrow, then we are taking her to the hospital.
Well, that's everything so far, so I'll update again sometime later. By the way, all of your comments have been making me smile and inspire me to try harder everyday. Thank you friends! I love you! Ciao! ;D

What a day...!

After today, I am just simply exhausted! I went with my mother back to the house to clean some things up and take things back to the trailer, however, there HAD to be another car crash right outside of our house on the corner. A toyota pulled out and hit a mitsubishi. The toyota flipped over and the two women in the front seat were pinned in. I called 911 when my mother shoved her cell phone in my face. I told the 911 lady "There's been a car accident on the corner of Harris and Caracas. We need an ambulance; two women are pinned in." and the first thing that the lady asks is "What kinds of cars are they?" and I'm thinking "Does it really MATTER what kind of car it is?! I'm a girl! I don't know cars! Just bring a freakin' ambulance and firemen people!" So I tried to keep my voice calm and just answered her questions the best I could. It only lasted for about 45 minutes, and my mother saved the two ladies lives! The men that had gotten out of the overturned car were trying to get them out, which probably could have killed them with their position, but my mother (the hero) kept control and told them to wait for the paramedics. Luckily, no one was injured! :D So now my mother is my honorary hero of the day! Way to go mom! <3
Until next time fellow bloggers. ;D

My first week

Well, here I am; loading all of my personal problems on all of you. I honestly doubt you are going to read this, but if you do then thank you for giving me the chance to help relate to you. At this very moment, I am sitting at this rickety kitchen table in my father's fifth wheel. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a trailer. I live in Bakersfield, CA at Bakersfield's RV Resort. It's different from the 2500 sq. feet two story 4 bed 3 bath house I am used to. My mom and dad lost our house to foreclosure and we plus my two dogs and my one cat have to live in a trailer to make ends meet. I'm turning 16 on the 28th; however, this was not the way I imagined my sweet sixteen to be. I never imagined that i'd be kicked out of the one place I called home to live in an alien enviroment. My family has always been 'high class'. My father said we were part of the middle class, but I always saw us above that; we were on top of the world. I spend my spare time trying to babysit as much as I can so I give my mom some money for the gas to drive to work. My dad has his harley davison (a 100th aniversery '03 softail) and my mom has the ford pickup. Our trailer isn't some fall apart place to stay on the weekends. It's actually really nice. The table isn't so rickety like I said, it's just a little wobbly. My bed is in a loft, so it's cool. This RV place isn't so bad either. I have free access to a gym, pool, spa, and morning coffee. I miss having my own bathroom and a bedroom door and a backyard for the dogs, but I'm adjusting. Just on Tuesday, my dad and I went back to the house to get some stuff for the tailer (we aren't kicked out until the 15th of July, but we packed away the beds). We went inside for a minute, then we out to the truck again. There was a tow truck hooked up to our pickup, and a huge fat lard of a woman coming up to my father. We hadn't made our last payment to Ford Credit and they were repossessing the truck. When I heard her say this, my jaw dropped and I put my hands on the top of my head, something I usually do after running for a long time. I knew I couldn't cry in front of my father; he hated tears and discouraged and looked down upon them, so I ran back into the house into the now vacent living room next to the kitchen and let out a sob. I cursed and screamed until my head felt as if it was splitting in half. I blamed myself, I admit it. It was my fault we had gone back to the house at the moment; I needed my cell phone charger. I half begged my father to take me to get it, and my mother said that we may as well go for extra blankets. So he drove me. And now it felt as if my world was falling apart. My parents had already lost the house, and now they were losing their truck. I sprinted up to my room to find my coin bank still on the floor with the rest of my junk. I yanked the lid off and stuck my hand in to pull out three twenty dollar bills, my babysitting money.  I ran without tripping to the garage and driveway, where this tragity was happening right in front of me. The hippo said to take all of our personal belongings out of the truck; if anything was left, it would go to auction. My father went to the truck and got a box out of the bed. Then he went to the glovebox and put all of our booklets and anything else into it. I had those infuriating tears penitrating my eyes and I felt anger. I went to Ms. I-crushed-my-husband-when-I-rolled-over-in-my-sleep-and-that's-why-he-obviously-left-me-while-I-got-fatter and asked her if there was any way that my family could post-pone this situation. IT  replied that we couldn't. My father came to the other side of the truck where the animal and I were and told me to help clean out the backseat. I looked at IT again and pulled out the sixty dollars from my pocket. I told her that I'd give her all my money. She looked at me with pity and said "No." Then I counldn't stop it. There went the waterworks. My father looked at me with an incredious look asked me, "Sara, why are you crying?" I was speechless. I had never SEEN such evil in my life before. This elephant just had to be satan's mistress. She HAD to be. I just shook my head and did what my father had asked me to do, sobbing all the way. The men that were towing my father's truck just looked at me. For a moment, they actually looked like they cared, then the next second, it was gone. They never gave a crap about anybody they could have hurt, none of them did. They did this for the money, and they probably taught themselves to not care. From the looks on their faces, I don't think it took them long to learn how. After I finished my chore, I dropped the full box in the garage and yelled at IT. I told her, "Screw you, you big fat hippo! With a job like this, no wonder everyone already thinks you're heartless!" and I ran into the house and slammed the door. It was just great. My father and I were stranded at the house. My mother can't drive the motorcycle to come get us; no side car and she's only 4'11'' and 100 lbs. My father had his cell phone, but I felt so ashamed. I couldn't do anything, and it was so embarassing that I didn't want to tell anybody. My father came inside and he talked to me. For the first time, he let me cry and scream and curse without disipline. He talked to me about it and told me he wasn't worried. I asked him why and he said "Because things change. We will get the truck back. I've been through worse and survived, and so will we." Then he called my mother. My mom and I have a really tense relationship. She constantly scares me. She complains and worries outload driving so much that I don't want to get my license anymore. I'd rather walk, ride a bike, or take the bus. She also took things to the next level. I knew that once she heard and realized that she couldn't go to work the next day, that I'd hear constant complaining and words of upsetting torture; words that said how we're were losing everything and how there's no hope left. I hated that. I didn't want to feel sad anymore. I didn't want my mother talking to me about how we don't have enough money and how my father isn't such a great man. I want to have a happy day, even if there aren't happy things going on. She took it like I though she would. She yelled, sobbed, cursed. When I asked my father how bad she was when he talked to her, he said "She handled it like you did, so I guess it's okay." I replied with "Daddy, I definatly did NOT take it very well. Well, let's call your sister for a ride so I can enter hell." So he did. I went straight to bed when we got back; I didn't want to hear my mother cry and complain and gripe. When I woke up, she was gone. My cousin picked her up so she can pack more at the house. I didn't mind; I had the whole park to myself. I felt like crying again, so I went to the gym and ran it off on the tredmile. It felt horrible, but then I remembered what my father said about how he'd been through worse. I felt better. Now's it's Saturday morning and I don't want to sleep yet. I'm content with just staying up all night so that way I don't have anymore drama going on during the day. My mail companion during the day when everyone is gone is my puppy, Gizmo. His full name is Sargent Gizmo, like a military name. I thought it was cute how he crawled as a newborn like an army baby. Well, now I'm sorta at the end of my long ranting story for now. I will try to update every now and again. I just want to make my main piont: We DO live through tough times. My father got his truck back and now my family has less worries. It's wonderful how my father is always right. Goodnight everyone, and pleasent dreams. And remember this, a quote from my father, a truck driver, "In life, you just have to keep on truckin'."


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