It’s a little late.. Not really- but a little. I’m up writing essays. I’ve gotten about half of them finished.. Here’s a paragraph from my science essay that I find funny because I don’t know what the heck I’m talking about..

“The results support the hypothesis of adding water to strengthen the quality of topsoil. The more water added, the more the quality increased. The data shows that the topsoil is at it’s weakest point when it is completely dry. Of course, interfering variables include the temperature of the water and how quickly the water was poured. A way to correct the errors would be a simple timer and a plumbing system that only allows a certain degree of temperature to flow through it- eliminating the variety of different temperatures. With more moisture(water) involved, the topsoil should become more resistant to the average rain fall, therefore lessening erosion.”

Isn’t my science teacher going to love me?

I received my grade card today.. Grades went down.. We’re in the fourth quarter now.. I’ll go in order from first to third.

First Quarter:

Math- D,B, I (I= incomplete.. I missed a math test I am not intending on making up)

History- B, B, A-

Gym- A, A, A

Cooking- C (started this semester)

Sewing- A- (started this semester)

Science- B, B, C

English- A, A, A

My grade in Science went down, but history went up.. I still think they suck though. I should be making straight A’s.. and I can- it’s just that once you start doing that, they expect it all the time.

Oh- I wrote a paper in English and I didn’t turn the other half of the assignment in and had one spelling error- which should have knocked me down to at least a B- but she gave me a 100%.. Here’s the essay= we had to write from the main character’s perspective.

Piece of crap essay.. But it worked for now.

“Dear Mr. Roberts,

I am writing to you on the off chance that you would publish this in a section of your newspaper sometime soon. Let’s start with a few things about myself, shall we? My name is Josie Raeburn and I am twenty years old. I had a brother named jack up until I reached the age of sixteen- when he died at the age of nineteen from a fatal case of callous food poisoning.

We grew up in a small, secluded and desolate town with our psychopathic father, who was as abusive as a person could possibly get on a daily basics. He was an alcoholic. He was a physicist. He was a lot of things. Jack and I were home schooled. I aced my classes and Jack failed his- with a growing apathy increasing in his mind of this tedious world.

We had a mother. A mother whose name was Mary. To this day, I do not know much about her. When she left, she took Jack with her. When Jack was seven, she dropped him back off at our father’s house. Jack and I developed such a strong bond, stronger than most siblings could ever develop.

He left one day, out of the blue and I thought he would never return. But, low and behold, he came back, eighteen months later, to gather his things that he had left behind. I was angry with him, oh I was so angry. I went with him, despite the matters of education I was leaving behind. For, I was also leaving a crazy, erratic father behind and that was ever so bittersweet it makes the hairs on my arms stand up still.

We hopped from state to state, homeless. We stayed in motels a lot of the time. Sometimes we stayed with Jack’s friends and those weren’t the best times in the world, I can tell you that.

We were the best of friends and the worst of enemies- Jack and I were. You would think his death would be something so much more, something so much more memorable and deep. But, no, I’m afraid it wasn’t. A simple case of food poisoning brought him down. I went to my father’s home afterwards, gathering up my birth certificate, along with other countless records of importance. When I was asked where I’d go after I left, I replied, “Wherever I want to.”

That was the change. The independence I had needed ever so much. The identity I had been searching for. The thing is, you see, the road I traveled to get that independence was not one I would wish on anyone and it almost made my entrance to adulthood brusque and full of so much candor that it made my eyes swell with bigger tears than God himself could cry. It was that easy and it was that simple. A simple goodbye, it was. A simple hello, it was.

I sometimes like to think of how different and severely altered my life would have been without the abuse I grew up with. I think I would have had a chance at a better future. I would have fit in with the world better, oh so much better. My innocence would have been so much more pronounced to the world. It would have been so much more profound. I would have had a life different than my own, that much is true.

But, I am not writing to you to tell you about how depressing childhoods wound people and how severe their impact is. There would be no need to write such a thing because it has been written before. I am writing to tell you that even life is as difficult as it is, you are expected to show the same amount of respect just as everyone else is. You cannot have a free pass of empathy simply because your childhood was snatched away from you at what seemed to be the world’s terminal velocity. No, no, you cannot have that.

The way my childhood played itself out shaped me. It developed my identity and gave me a sense of integrity that not many have. The kids today are very lucky with what they have and it makes me sad to see how they act with that. It’s how unaware they are of the rest of the world and how the inexperience of the life surrounding them is damaging them. Kids, children, teenagers, young adults, and whatever else you wish to call them- they think they know it all because it is all they know. Which is why, I think that the younger the child is, the more stuck up they are and the more they are consumed with themselves in their own world. I can safely say to you that I do not know everything. I only know the vast majority of things I do not know.

Their arrogance astounds me. It truly does. I have not witnessed anyone whine and complain more than the generation of today. The purpose of writing this is to tell you that hardship is what builds character. It builds up your emotional strength and that is not a bad thing- not that anyone ever said it was, of course.

So, do not think of tragedy and hardship as a shame. Think of it as a chance to grow and expand. Think of it as a test of strength and a review to become stronger.

And that, my friend, is ever so bittersweet.

Yours truly,

Josie Raeburn” (ß main character)

Currently listening: “Leave before the lights come on” - Arctic monkeys

–Meghan

I haven’t made a journal entry in ages. I am almost ashamed of myself.

Notice how I said almost. XP

My spring break was just a break I suppose. I spent most of my times over at Heidi’s mother’s house, watching cops. My grandmother and I have this thing- it’s like a ritual that whenever I’m over, we always watch cops and America’s most wanted together- especially since she doesn’t have cable.

On Wednesday and Thursday- I slept over at Erica’s house. I had a very good time, actually. We laughed more than I had laughed in two months in a 48 hour period. Now that is what I call progress. We spent a few hours over at her friend’s house one evening- where we played guitar hero and jumped on a trampoline.. Can you believe that? I haven’t felt like such a kid in a very long while. I haven’t acted like that in.. god- how many years? I’ve lost count.. Not like you would know though.. Hah. It was nice while it lasted though. It really was.

I came home on Friday and at about nine in the evening, the middle-aged Korean lady from downstairs rang the doorbell. I answered and she explained that we were making too much noise.. I told her neither Heidi or I were making any noise.. Then, Heidi came down and we both went into the woman’s apartment to examine ho her apartment was laid out. Heidi’s room was right on top of hers.. Ha- when someone walked, it sounded like the walls would come crashing down any minute.. Then the lady got angry and called the cops on us.. Fun, fun, fun.

Then, at about ten thirty on that Friday, Yuki came over. He flew in for the weekend.. I thought he didn’t want to talk to me! And all of a sudden.. He randomly shows up. Hah. Heidi, Yuki, and I sat on he couch upstairs for a while and then he told Heidi he wanted to speak with me privately and for her to go to bed. She did and I just stared at him, wondering what he wanted.

After a long wait of silence, he looked a the ground and said very seriously, “..Maybe you’re a little bit too skinny.” Me: “…Hm?” Him: “You don’t want to be one of those people.” Me: “.. I’m not.” Him: “Yeah… I just looked at you’re face. It’s a lot thinner than I remember it being and I’ve got a pretty good memory.” Me: “…Ookkaay, right.”

He bugged me about it all weekend.. It got sort of annoying.

I had a dream the night before the court hearing that was so intense when I woke up my heart rate was 180.. And it wasn’t even an intense situation. Let me explain: In the beginning of the dream, I was in a department stores, looking for something. Then, someone came up and stole my jacket- which I was pretty pissed about. But, as I tried to focus on that, it became harder and harder until I was looking relaxed and giggly to the public, but in my mind- I was still very angry.. I don’t exactly understand why I was so angry though.. Anyway, two policemen escorted me downstairs and brought me over to Heidi and Yuki. They sat me down and the younger officer, about 26 or so looked directly into my eyes and said gently, “Meghan, don’t you think it’s time to go home?” I didn’t want to leave, but I knew it would make everyone else happier if I did, so I told them I did- but with a very slurred, “Yeah.” Then he became very aggressive with his words and put his hands on my shoulders, shaking me. “Meghan, you’re drunk!” The look on my face didn’t fit my feelings as I could see myself.. I had begun to float up out of my body and watched from a safe standpoint.

That’s when I woke up, almost scared because the dream was so damn real.. I was angry with myself when I woke up though.. How could I have been drunk? Then I realized I wasn’t and didn’t have a hangover.. Ha. I don’t know why, but that dream really bothered me. Something about it hit a very uncomfortable note.

Are you really for the ‘big’ news?

Well, too bad- I’m telling you anyway.

Court was today.. I didn’t think I would be going anywhere. But, the judge ended up awarding temporary custody to my father’s parents. I wasn’t there. In fact, I had just taken a shower and was laying down to go to sleep when Heidi called me, crying hysterically- saying to pack my bags… I just calming got up and packed everything into a suitcase and waited.. Didn’t bother me too much.. None at all really. No emotions whatsoever.. So apathetic. ><

Heidi: “Can I have a hug?”

Me and her father: “No!”

Heidi and her mother: “Why not?!”

Me and her father: *begin walking down the stairs*

It’s always been like that I guess. I usually agree with her father, although I spend quite a bit more time with her mother. I guess the men in my family don’t like emotions, but they like to be semi polite, which is why I get along with that.. And hell- if I don’t want to fucking hug somebody, I’m not going to hug them.

I did however, get to see my father on Saturday from 12-6.. He had some cops escort him.. Nice. Heidi tried to give me a hug then too- but I backed away from her too quickly to be suffocated by her. I guess that’s kind of sad though- because it can be compared to a dog who has an owner who has beaten him one time too many. Someone actually compared me to that.. My god- am I really that childlike and frightful?

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I learned how to make deviled eggs! Ha. The first thing I learn how to make too.

Currently listening: “Thank you for the venom”- My chemical romance