It's 5:20am and I haven't been to sleep yet. At least I have my whole own private diary... Well kind of private, at least my family/homefriends/exes/anyone else who will give two shits,,, cant see it. It's nice to have some kind of privacy. Where I can just go and write down all of my memories, and experiences, and troubles. -sigh of relief-

Alright, so where to begin. In January, I finally got tired of John's bullshit. The lies, the cheating, the whole "my friends are way cooler and more important than yours and I hate all of your friends for no reason other than the fact that they have a penis" ... He put his friends on a pedastal that he thought was so much higher than my friends. He was never ever home [we finally got an apartment August 16th, 2009] and was always going to his friends houses straight after he got off of work instead of coming home, or came home only to change and leave again... Then not come home until about 3am... Yeah, it was horrible. So Anyways, we broke up January 22nd.

I moved in with my friend Anthony, who I've known for about 5 years now. He's 2 years younger than I, just a friend. I began to date his cousin Donnie. Donnie is 32. But I've known him for about 3 years and we had become really close friends over the last year or two. So it's not like he's just some old guy haha, he was already like family to me. Alright so living in this house were: me, Anthony, his sister Desiree, her boyfriend Justin, Anthony's brother Matt [pretty much he slept over every night and never left], Matt's girlfriend Yasmeen [who I hated for cheating on me with John years ago but that's in the past and I had to deal with it.], Anthony's dad Ronnie [who is now away on a job related trip to Boston], Donnie, and the "guy on the couch", aka "ODB [which stands for old dirty bastard] aka Ronnie's work buddy, Jim, who was pretty much homeless.

So things are pretty packed here. No privacy, shit's always going missing, theres always somebody here... Actually I believe in the last 4.5mo that I've lived here there has only been one day where I was the only person here. So I loved work. I became good at what I did. I was a housekeeper at a hotel called the Sun Viking Lodge, and I was damn good. My supervisor made me the trainer... Surpassing all other eight girls [and some of them had been working there between 1 and 22 years].... At only 9 months into my work experience. I loved it. I got to bring home things that people left in the hotel rooms, like boogey boards for the beach, and jeans they forgot, and shoes, and a lot of the people would leave food in the fridge or alcohol because they couldn't take it on their airplane flights back home. So I always got cool shit... And brought home cleaning products and dish towels and cool shit.

Well the idea that Donnie was so old kinda did get to me, and after being in a relationship for somebody for 5 years, and then nothing kinda really freaked me out. So for two days, on February 21st, I moved back in with John. Then, I realized that I didn't really love him anymore and to stay there would truly just tear me apart on the inside, so I moved back in to Anthony's. Here, I pay $60 a week. Not so bad. Donnie and I got back together... He's the nicest person I've ever been with, and I already know a lot of his family, which is a lot nicer and more accepting than my own.

Now, when John and I first broke up, I took a pregnancy test just to be sure I wasn't pregnant. I wasn't, everything was ok. And the two days I went with him I was on my period so I refused to have sex with him. So there was no possible way for me to be pregnant.

When I missed my period for a month and a half... Here's where life really gets interesting. I took two tests, and they both came back positive. Now everyone in the house... Or rather, everyone and anyone that knows Donnie agrees that he's going to be a great father. I believe it. But I'm not sure if I'm ready. I'm only 19... The plan was to have a child when I'm 24 and have already graduated college and got a real job with money. I mean, I know I'm going to be a great mother, no doubt about that, from the experience of taking care of my baby brother [who's now 3 1/2]. I just feel like I got jyped out of life. I was always grounded before I moved out, then when I moved in with John, my life still thoroughly sucked and I still couldn't do what I wanted... And living at Anthony's became short-lived.

I love the idea of having a baby, especially with Donnie because I don't believe that there could be a better father for the baby... But I hate the fact that you have to be pregnant in order to have a baby haha. I hate the nausea. I hate not being able to smoke, or drink, or participate in illegal activities, or the fact that I had to fucking quit my beloved job so soon, or the fact that I can't go tanning or to the salon, and the worry of my fresh tattoos on my hips getting stretched. [I got a pair of sparrows, under my right one it says FAITH and under the other it says HOPE. I drew the sparrows myself and they have really awesome light blue- to lime green shading... They came out great.] I got those February 22nd. Apparently a few days after I got pregnant. [I really hope that the ink didn't affect the baby cause it was just days old.]

Now I sit at the computer desk typing this damn story of my recent life. Wishing my stomache would stop hurting. Wishing I weren't sober.

Ok, where was I... Yes, while everybody I live with is getting fucked up, I'm the only one that can't do drugs or drink or basically participate in the all day, every day activities. It fucking sucks.. Donnie and I have decided to move out in about a month, to move to Oklahoma, where his entire family lives... Other than the people that live in this house... It's best for the baby. I would much rather the baby be in Oklahoma than be here, where I can't even tell my father I'm pregnant, and can't let the one I used to love know that I'm pregnant.

Oh yeah, a few days before I quit my job, John's crazy mother called me on my work phone... Told the office attendants that she was my stepmother and that she had to speak to me... I get ony the phone and she says "Jessie, don't hang up on me. I need to talk to you. One of John's friends told me that you are pregnant. I need to know if it's true, and that my son has a baby, and I might have a grandchild. I'm going to have to take legal action and get paternity tests done to see if the baby really is John's." .............

Whoa, bitch, you done crossed the line. I wish I would've just hung up on her, but I stayed on the phone to continue to tell her that the baby isn't John's, and that she has no authority to do shit. That woman is a psycho!!!

My parents still don't know I'm pregnant, or that I quit my job. My mother knows I'm moving to Oklahoma, but not my father... Yet... I don't even want to tell them until after I'm already in OK and probably about to burst.

Well I think I'm going to go ahead and call it a night... "Morning." I'm still not tired but my fingers hurt.