Home

So I was reading this book about a girl, Yara, who moves to the US, because of the spread of communism in Cuba and Fidel Castro. (she's an exile)  In the middle of the book, the girl starts to become confused about where her home is. Is it in Cuba, or the US? She has made so many new friends, and she's gotten use to the ways in the US. But often in the book she starts talking about how she misses Cuba, and how everything makes her miss her old home. When it gets closer to the end,  she realizes that she might not be able to move back to Cuba for a long time because things aren't getting better. Then it ends. No answer to her problems, it just ends.
But my life doesn't have just a simple answer of ending. Let me make this clear, about the same time I started this blog- the end of last year's summer- I moved. I've made friends here, I've gotten use to everything here, and if I were to leave, even if it were to the place I left, I'd miss my friends so much. But then I often find myself snapping and thinking about how things use to be, and how much I wish that I could go back. Where I can quote Kid History, I shout black and white across the street, where I can reference to an inside joke, and have my friends next to me, doing the same. I miss my friends, and find myself wishing I could move back. But then I'm reminded that I'd miss my home here. Then I get confused, where is my home? Is here, is there?
Driving down to the Evaluation show for guard I found myself laughing with two of my friends on each side. We were talking about something random, maybe about the play dough we were playing with, or maybe it was about some stupid guard joke, I don't know. But when I was laughing my head off, my friend Georgia (that's her guard name, mine's DaVinchi) turns to me and says "Eva, I'm so glad you moved here, and that I met you." Suddenly, I realized that I was too. But at the same time, something was tugging at me, wishing that Lille Anka was here, making something out of the play dough, or talking about some stupid inside joke. I didn't know what to say, because once I started missing my friends, I could only think about how close we were driving down to them, and how instead of going down the exit that I'm so use to going down, we're going to keep driving. I managed to choke out some words, they weren't a lie, they were just hard to say.    "Me too."
Then we're going back to playing angry birds and play dough and stupid guard jokes. But something inside of me is torn when I see my exit, and we drive past it. Something that makes me want to cry and tell them every memory I have. I see all the old stores, I see the street leading up to my old school and Lille Anka's house. I think of how I get there, go to Rissa's, Nato's, Nichi's, and Chippy's. I let some things slip, as I point at the streets, try to explain where the best park in the whole world is. My friends listen, out of politeness, but they really don't care. But it's all pointless, because we keep on driving, past all my strong memories, past the areas that mean so much to me. We drive through the areas to where things are vague, where I can only point out a few streets to where I remember nothing. To where my memories are going to be made with my friends in guard.
I find myself confused, I'm being torn between my two worlds, where the two cross. Are both my homes- or can a person only have one home. I'm told my hometown is where I was born, but Portland doesn't strike me as my hometown. I wasn't raised there, but I'm told it's my home because I was born there. I can't say that where I was raised is my home either because my home is here as well. I want to settle down and say that my home varies into different places, but my heart is just confused by what my brain's telling me. When I try to talk to my mom, she just gets upset with me talking about me missing my frineds. I don't blame her though, I've complained for so long, trying to convince her to move back, she just rolls her eyes if I say anything about, my friends- or if I just simply state that I don't like something here. "It's healthy for you to move. I'm glad we moved." I know it's healthy, but it hurts, so bad. While most teens have best friends down a block, mine are miles away. I can't talk to my dad because all he'll do is try to convince me to live with him, so he can sue my mom for the rest of my siblings. Sure I'll get some comfort, but sometimes I can't tell if he's just going to twist my words for his attorney. The only comfort I can get is from my friends, here or there. Somehow, I can't tell them how split I feel. I feel as if I tell them, I'm telling them I sorta don't love them as much.
Why is this so confusing? Why can't I have the story book ending that every story has, where the girl realizes that loving both places is okay, and then things end right before she feels split again? If home is where the heart is, then my home is everywhere but one place.

`

It's been a week

I'm sorry Ladies and Gents, It's been a week. A whole week.
I survived a whole week without blogging or Facebooking. I think I, myself, should get a metal.
Or a Star Sticker. :)
However, on the other end, maybe not. Because once I found myself with time, and and idea what to post about, I forgot what I was going to do.
Of course, this happens so often, so I'll get a topic off the tip of my mind. And unlike I promised, it isn't amazing. Maybe next time....
And of course, what is going through my mind is The Hunger Games in March 23

I don't know how to stretch it for long, so I won't. I'm really looking forward to it, but I'm really hoping that the movie fits it's rating, and doesn't end up with any crap in it. I'm also hoping that they won't mess it up. I'm really mad who they chose for Peeta. But I don't mind it when the plot is a little different from the book so I don't expect everything to happen, but I don't want it to end up like Ella Enchanted.
That movie stank

But no matter what, I still love the books, and when it comes to "teams" I prefer Katniss to marry Peeta.  I've read the series twice, and the first and second book three times.  I'm addicted, and I wish there were more books to read. I'm starting to worry if I'm becoming one of those mindless twilight freaks, because my cousin and I want to dress up as capitol people on the realise night.

What do you think? Am I considered a chick for loving the hunger games so much?
Oh- and a random question. What's your favorite book?

... Sorry Guys

So... I've been busy with comp coming up, (color-guard) and I've been practicing like crazy. I've been using the extra time for homework, so I really haven't had the time to write.... sorry. As soon as I have the time I'll post you an extra (maybe) amazing post!

Just a random question... and a Pics of my art

First my random question-
What's your favorite smiley?
Second, some of my art that I'm sharing (Sorry Lile Anka, Unipillar, and Draguracorn, you've most likely seen these, I promise to put up new ones later) I know, there are a lot, but my goal is to post all the pictures I have so far so I can't post them later for when I'm lazy, and thus I  have to post new pictures I either draw or haven't scanned so far.

These aren't on paper... but they're epic. Lille Anka and I made them

And then some older art.... as in like F-O-R-E-V-E-R ago (last year)

From Camp

Chasing my Bus

My dear followers/stalkers/friends,


This happened a long time ago, please forgive me for not posting this.
I rolled my ankle. To me, it wasn't that big of a deal to post about, so I didn't.  And now that it's been months, and it still hasn't healed, I think you should know. 
So- how did I roll my ankle? 


It was the first month of school, and I was talking to one of my friends while we were waiting for her bus to come. My bus was all the way over on the other side of the street, with a 100 yard distance ( ya I know- it's an exaggeration) but I really thought I had the time to wait for her bus before mine left. Then, the bus engines came on, and I started realizing that they were getting ready to leave. I said goodbye, and started walking away. Then the buses started moving. 


You know how when you're inside of a bus, it seems to go super slow? Well, on the outside, you're moving pretty fast. I stopped walking and started running. But what I didn't notice was that I was running on the edge of the sidewalk. When my foot did landed on the edge, it did a fancy twisty thingy. It also made a fun crunching noise. After getting up, I noticed my foot wasn't responding right. I looked down and my foot was pointed funny and it sorta hurt. I remember my brain thinking " I just sprained it, It's not a big deal because it isn't broken. Keep running you need to catch that bus." I stopped looking at my feet, and I started running again. I don't even know how I did it, I'm guessing it was a adrenaline rush or something, but I was booking it even faster than before. 


Thank goodness, the bus stopped for a red light. When the bus driver saw me, and let me in she told me "I'm not suppose to let you in, so this is your last chance." It was when I sat down that I started really hurting. My whole leg was shaking and my foot had this strange sensation of being numb and hurting at the same time. I wanted to cry, but sobbing on the bus isn't on my bucket list. 


Long story short I got home and iced it, and lay down. But it didn't take much time for me to want to get off of Facebook and walk. I kept making excuses, like getting a new ice pack, checking the fridge for food, and searching for my backpack so I could do homework. I was rebelling for no reason. That is, until I rolled it the next day again. When that happened, I sat down, and hopelessly wished for my ankle to be healed. But after 2 hours my sanity drifted away, and I started waddling around the place again. 


Days passed by, and soon I started doing stuff at school that ticked off my mom. But I informed her that running the mile, walking up and down stairs, and chasing friends was important for functioning at school properly. To me, my ankle was healed because it looked normal. But when my ankle did start bugging me, I'd sit down and try to not make a scene. 


Yup- I was being a moron, but I didn't want to seem as if I was taking advantage of my ankle to get out of doing things I didn't want to do. I started worrying about my ankle though when my ankle started bugging me more frequently. I asked my mom to get it checked, and so we set up an appointment with doctors.


I got lectured for running when my ankle should of been resting, etc, etc. We took x-rays and my bones were fine, it was just one of my muscles. Then the doctor told me that walking on it was the best idea to let it heal. After hearing this, I turned to my mom with a smug look on my face.  point. My mom rolled her eyes, and pointed out that walking was a good idea AFTER the RICE treatment (Rest Ice Compress and Elevate).


A couple of weeks later, I was skipping to my room, and my ankle crunched again, and this time, the noise was louder.  Crippling to the floor I started bawling and begged for an ice pack. But by the time my cousins and brother came with like 5 different ice packs, I was standing up and wobbling to get my own.


My mom started scolding me and made me sit down and heal. ( >w< I walked when she wasn't looking.) She got an ace-bandage and told me that we were getting a brace for me later when we were at the store. When she found out that I had P.E. the next day, she told me if I ran, I'd be in trouble. 


:/ A couple of months have passed, but I'm still in this dang stupid brace. I had to run the mile last week, because I was afraid my coach would lower my grade, and my mom flipped when I was complain about being sore the next day. My mom talked to a friend who was a coach for my ex-high school's track and cross country, and she said it would take 6 months at the least for me to heal. She also said that it may never heal. >m< I hate this brace so bad, I want it off.... the only up side about my brace is that it's allowed my ankle to stop swelling, so it isn't all puffy like a balloon. 


Anyways, I'll tell you when I get it off.

Memories

Memories rushing through my head
of my final goodbyes and tears
now I'm wishing them back
I should of told them
I would never
forget
because
just maybe
there would be
a chance that they
wouldn't of forgotten the
sweet memories of who we were

O.o Homework

SO I have homework I'm suppose to be doing, but I'm slacking off.... again. I swear Teachers love the to think that you only have that one class, so they give you so much homework to do that will take all day, but you have other teachers for the same class thinking that, so in the end, you just procrastinate it.

I know.... lame excuse. I should probably go work now

New Look - Same Great Blog

:D sorry I had to put in the typical commercial slogan. I've just been messing with my blog background, ( and after I got this background I found out how to do a blog with a template, great, huh?) and I came up with this. Is it too hard to read? Any advice?


P.S. Lille Anka- if you see this, I'm sorry you're head cut off, I'm working on it. I can't fix Rissa's for sure. :P

It's Not Over

I remember when things were easier, simpler. Being friends wasn't difficult, we had simplier minds and drama wasn't a problem. We weren't choosing who to talk to more often, because we had the time for everyone. We giggled and laughed, and goofed off. What other people thought didn't matter....

I met Rissa first, I didn't think I needed friends, I was all set for 7th grade. Then, sitting into groups in P.E., I had nobody to sit with. Sitting with the group of people who invited me, I reminded myself I didn't need new friends. I lied. 

I hardly remember meeting Anka. It had something to do with drama class. I just remember talking to her, and her being my friend in that class. Now that we compare memories, she recalls thinking about how annoying I was.

Nato was my brother's friend end of story. We sorta talked in orchestra, but we never became close friends untill he started hanging out with us more often (to talk to Anka ;D)

Chippy was the boy I met on the bus. Granted I met him before, but he never was offically my friend before that. I don't know when, but we started talking off of the bus, and we became closer of friends.

Now I'm miles away, Lille Anka's hurting, Nato never talks, Rissa's hard to contact, and Chippy's got other friends. It's no longer the same, and it's not suppose to be. And somehow, against all odds, we're still friends. Right now we're hanging by a worn out thread, but we're knotting it, and making it stronger. We're not letting go because the past isn't something to forget, and the future isn't something to give up on. It's not over. I promise.

Confronting my Fears #3

So- I'm freaking out right now. I just got an invitation to a private blog. At first, I was flattered, thinking somebody wanted me to read their blog.(Ya, I know it's stupid, but usually, my first thoughts are.) But then I started thinking about  it... this was the email I use for my friends. My blog emails were the only one I posted on here. How the fluffy pea muffins did somebody get this email? Did they get my facebook account somehow and then get my email? I don't even have that showing on my information unless you're a friend.
Then I started thinking it was my best friend, although I had no idea why she had her name as the blogger. So when I got onto Facebook to message her, she was online. She didn't make the blog. I put it as my status so one of my friends could message me or something, but nobody was responding. ( It's only been up for like 5 minutes, but still, I was hoping for a response)
Then, once my brain stopped panicking , I realized it might be one of my friends who had my email, but didn't have a Facebook.
After finding out that other friends received it, I started calming down, and accepted the blog, read it, and then realized that it was my friend- I noticed her dog's name.

So- I just found out I have a fear of being stalked. I use to have this fear, but I got over it once I got the concept they get as much information you give them ( Like I told you I have a Facebook and a separate email). I think I got over the fear when I started using Blogger instead of Weebly... but now I might have to get over that fear again.

P.S. for all those creepy stalkers reading this,
Stalker no Stalking ( hey, it works for Dora the Explorer)

Confronting my fears #2

This one, I really need to solve. I'm afraid of change- which is terrible because that's currently what my life is right now. I don't even know how to explain it, if I have to adjust, it scares me. While most people say just don't look back and love what you have right now I find myself turned all the way back trying to reverse life, and then when I notice that I'm still moving forward, and things are changing again, I'm desperate to get all that back again.

... I really don't know how to continue, so let's leave it like that

Confronting My Fears #1

So- I'm going to post all of my fears and see how many fears I can, even if I will or will not get over them

I'm scared of the dark. Well, not really the dark itself- it's more like the creepers and the monsters and stuffs. I've been afraid of the dark for, like forever. I think it started when I made up an imaginary enemy. ( I didn't have imaginary friends then) Honestly, if he were real, he'd be a creeper. He watched me in my sleep and sent evil ninjas to either A. Kill me B. Kidnap me or C. Steal something from me.
And those ninjas would stalk me in the dark. After that, I couldn't look in the mirror, go outside, or stand out of my bed for too long, that is, if it were in the dark. I stopped imagining my evil imaginary enemy forever ago, but I'm still afraid of the dark. I'm cautious of cars that drive in front of my house, walking alone in the dark, and the reflection of my face in the dark still freaks me out. If I for some odd reason I  have to step outside in the dark- I think of ways to attack a creeper that stops out of his car, and run.
Now that I think of it, it's also the fact I'm alone. when I walked home from school I'd make sure I had something on hand to beat the living daylights out of anybody who'd dare jump me. If my friends would walk home with me, I'd slow down my pace, so I wouldn't have to go home sooner.


So there you go- I'm afraid of being alone, and of the dark.

I blame the creepers out there.

~ Mini Zebraunicornasisses take the blog ~

My little sisters want to do a post for me, and I don't want to watch Land Before Time again, so I'm going to let them. Some may call it Compromising- I call it blackmail.

I'll be color coding this so you can tell who is writting. 

:3 ok- ready? Let's see how this turns out

Five year old sister:

gbhuyi rt

vivacvbnhevcrg

xox

fov

mom zoo viva halt      golxo  ve/    ;

xvivahle

xl,

Seven Year Old Sister

Our Cat named Megan someone has. Came close to her I have done it before i held her like a ragdoll and she purred a tone it was funny my mom laughed i did to.You can play with my five year old sister except bob is band Zebraunicornasiss i hate bob.

                               from cow the cupid