*sigh* school poops the poop outa me. yay for the weekend. *eats tangeriene* .................................. ........................................... .............................................. .......... so leathally bored. not bored to death. leathally bored. i wish cresten didnt have a job, which is pobably a bad thing to wish on a boyfriend, but hey. *shrugs* well since ive got the time, i could go a head and tell the never ending story, my history.. it kinda bothers me a lot and i need to get it down somewhere, so i figure here it is: Once upon a time there was a man and a woman. The mice were sleeping, my mom was screaming and nine months later I was born. (little joke if ya get it) The same day the Exon ValDaz sank off the coast of Alaska spilling millions of gallons of oil into the water. So ne ways, life was good i guess in our trailer in Evansville, IN. until my mom got pregnant again and she had another baby. Johnathan. My little brother. But not for long. One night my dad was sitting at his desk doing "work" with his "case" of miller light and wasnt thinking when he put the baby to bed. Put him in a crib that was too small, with blankets and on his back. The worst thing you can do to a three month old. Well Jon pukes and cries and cries and then it (his puke) gets lodged in his throat and he suffocates and dies. Bye bye. Well my dads passed out on the desk and mom comes home and finds the dead baby and freaks out. "you killed him you fucker you killed him" is all i remember her saying for hours. i didnt know what was going on. i was only three. well about 4 years later, my dads out on prob. and living in St. Paul, MN. So guess where we go cuz mom wants to give the bastard a second chance? thats right. we get up there and guess what? hes never fucking home. so many nights id come in off the bus and have to sit on the stoop of our appartment building cuz dad wouldnt be there to open the locked door. Many a nights i sat out there past eight or even nine waiting for mom to come home. After about the hundredth time she gave up, filed for separation, and we moved back to good ol Evansville. woo. there was more stuff than just that, but if i wrote it all down, id be writing a novel. not like im probably not already. ne ways. so this is about 3rd grade right? were back and gettin a house of our own and i start goin to school at North Posey Elementary. all seems ok. until mom files for divorce and meets a guy named Steve. i liked steve at first. hed come over. bring me new movies. buy me shit. go to my baseball games. i liked him. he was cool.... that was until he asked my mom to marry him. fuck that. i was just adjusting to it being the two of us... and now youre wanting me to move again? i hated it. i hated steve. for a while. meanwhile... i was starting school.... but this is all im going to write right now. im hungry. the scariest part about writing all this down is that i have no emotions toward it. i used to cry when i thought about it. it was hard. but now i dont care. *shrugs* maybe its cuz im hungry. ill finish this story some other time.