OMG very good news. Like, I can barely contain myself. Great news on the house!!!!!!!!! The ball is finally rolling on that. We finally got a settlement on construction and contents, both what we expected. And instead of waiting a year, we're actually have to be out of the rental house by around christmas/January. So, this is going to be awesome. Looks like I'll be taking off next spring semester anyway. I'll just start that first summer term immediately and take a bunch of summer classes to catch up. I don't care. My home comes first. I'm so happy. This is the happiest I've been in really long time, and this is the happiest I've seen my parents in almost a year. I have a good feeling about this, and because I believe in the power of words so incredibly much, nothing will screw this over.

I don't really know how to start this entry... The best thing I can say right now is , Fuck Everything. I'm tired, I'm physically sick right now, I'm depressed, and most of all I'm angry. Especially so very angry. I don't think I've ever been this angry in my life. And I'm full of despair, for lack of a better word. I just want to know why this shit just HAD to happen. Fucked everything up. I'm so worried for and about my parents. They don't deserve this. I'm so scared that my dad is going to have a heart attack from all this stress; I'm worried for mom because I don't want her to be a widow; and I'm worried about my family's well-being. So far, Nationwide as done a "bang up job" (note the sarcasm). It's been four fucking months. FOUR. And they don't even have a settlement claim yet. Not for construction, and certainly not for contents of the house. Four goddamn months. Nothing has been done, and we're being screwed over. So majorly screwed over. Their first offer for construction was 60,000 less than what all the GCs agreed on; even Nationwide's agreed it was going to be around 180,000. What the fuck, Nationwide. The total for contents came to about 280,000. They fucking offered us HALF. That's not nearly enough to replace even half the things we need. Nothing, NOTHING is salvagable. Everything has been sitting in water, grit and everything else in between for the last four months. Everything is covered in mold and mildew. Nationwide said 'oh we can steam clean that'. No, you can't. It's unsanitary and there's no garentee that nothing won't happen.

There was a dumpster sitting in our driveway for a while. It had the things that were thrown out of my parents' room. It was recently taken away, but our lawyer didn't authorize it to be taken away. Fucking Nationwide is screwing us over so badly.

I've been going above and beyond the call of duty, just to make sure everyone gets through the day peacefully. I'm pretty much at the end of my patience for people. Fucking Nancy, for those who know her, if she quivers her lip even the slightest, because it's a rush and she's freaking out, I'm going to rip her a new one. She's been there since November; get over it and just do it. Stop being a pussy about because no one's going to hold your hand. I swear on my grandmother's resting place.

To anyone who has Nationwide: switch as soon as possible. Our lawyer had another house fire case recently and with in a week, everything was done with their insurance company. Costs and everything.

There's more behind all this, and I don't feel like explaining. There are no words to describe the anger I feel. I just got back from 55 and my hands are swollen. I don't care if I get in trouble for it, it's my turn to unleash some. I just punched and kicked holes in the walls after I got done with the cardboard boxes (which surprisingly made me feel better). There aren't any indentations; just holes all the way through. I don't care how bruised or bloodied my knuckles are, or even if they're broken. I don't think I've ever been so furious in my life. If I have, it's been a long, long time.

Miyavi is going on tour again. He's going to Russia. RUSSIA. ;A; why can't he make NYC?

I must've started and restarted this entry at least 40 times in my head by now...

I'm just so highly disappointed. I mean, that's what family's all about right? To be there for one another when you're at your lowest. Or am I just completely delusional?

Not going to lie though, the stress I've known and currently feeling is no where near the level of my dad's, but time and time again, we've offered to listen, and time and time again, we've tried getting him out of the house and DO something. Something not related to work or just to do something to get his mind off the house. I thought we had a better relationship than that as a family. Am I completely delusional?

There's only so much disappointment a person can take, ya know? But, disappointment has become such a constant in my life, that I don't think I can be angry about it. I know everyone's a little disappointed at the end of the day, but this is a different circumstance, and I'm not trying to be selfish. The only thing I can feel about this situation is numbness.

It was actually really scary coming home to. It was actually worse than coming home to watch your house go up in flames. Coming home to hear that your dad is in the hospital because he had a panic attack after a 14 hour work day (school and work, rather) isn't very awesome. I shouldn't be talking about things like this but I trust everyone who reads this because you know me. And at this point, I don't really care. He has a heart murmur, and he said he was feeling chest pains. I didn't even know about this until about an hour ago.

I don't blame him, don't get me wrong. I blame everything that caused him to do it again. I'm though, very disappointed in my father for not coming to his family for support or to talk. I'm not angry with him. I can't be. I just physically can't no matter how much I want to be. I know in turn, what he does behind our backs makes him even more depressed, but damn... we're family. I thought we had it better than that. I thought my mother had it better than that. It's an odd mix of feeling betrayed, numbness, resentment, and disappointment. There's just no way on Earth, Heaven or Hell that can make me hate my dad.

I had my suspicions all along, and I didn't act on them, so I guess my resentment is to myself for not trusting the voice in my head. There's always signs, but I guess I wanted to turn a blind eye to it and say 'oh it's just allergies' or 'he's been up since the crack of stupid and he's just tired'. I can't believe I was so stupid.

He's staying over night at the hospital. I love and admire my mother so much for her strength. I know where I get it from. But it's my turn to be strong for her. It has been for a while, and I hope I'm doing it right.

Every time I leave the house, when I have to go to school or work and there's no one else home but my dad, I worry. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. I'm afraid that I'll get that phone call. I was prepared with my grandmother, but not for my dad. Not ever with my dad. He's not supposed to go yet. He still has to walk me down the aisle. I'm afraid to leave home for him. The last time no one was home, he cracked his head in the basement at 55 and was unconscious for 3 hours. He waited a week to tell us and refused to go to the hospital until my aunt turned on the water works and said something that made him guilty (she's good like that; she's a Leo).

But every time I go out the front door, I get so worried. I'm surprised I haven't gone grey yet.

My trust in my dad isn't the same any more. He keeps it from us, and by keeping it from us, it's almost the same as lying. Every time we ask 'is there anything wrong?', he always says 'no, forget about it.' Either that or we get a grunt in return.

There's only so much disappointment someone can take. The disappointment of broken promises, and the disappointment of having your trust broken so many times.

What else can we possible do?


I just learned that he bought a half gallon of vodka. On Friday. But that wasn't the cause. The cause was his heart. Mom said that he had chest pains that brought him to his knees. And he has a really high tolerance for pain. He practically doesn't feel it. He knows it's there, he feels it, but it's never really intense enough to make him care.

Some fucking asshole fucked up a really huge order. And what does every one do? Call my father because he can fix it. That's not his job. That job belongs to the poor asshole that fucked up. I'm about 5 minutes away from calling up the jerk who screwed this huge order for Point Authority up, and beat the ever loving shit out of him for what he did to my dad. It won't help any, but it will make me feel better. I'm not part of the company, so hearing a 20 year old lite into someone may seem like a big joke. But if we ever cross paths, I'm going to kick his ass. It's not my father's job to fix everyone else's mistakes.

My mother said something very interesting to me just now. "You shouldn't have to be doing this. You're only 20... and yet you're handling so well." 20? That's how old I am? Really? I feel so much older.

I wouldn't be able to handle it all if it weren't for my mom. I really fear for her sometimes. I don't know if she knows, though. She told me that he got kind of nasty with her at the hospital. We'll never beat him or anyone else up when they're at their lowest, and you know, he's doing a better job at it than we ever could.

music: 艶かしき安息、躊躇いに微笑み- Dir en Grey

A dangerous past time, I know!...

But I have been thinking. These are the years where I should be enjoying myself, right? As I'm sure the rest of you are. I'm completely miserable with my college life. I should be having a great time, right? I hate going to math class Tuesday-Thursday. I absolutely love Bio and Anatomy and Physiology. My math skills only go so far. I really want to drop out of math again. I should've listened last time when my id was talking to me. So, if i do poorly on the next test we have next week, I'm dropping. I don't want second F on my transcript. No one would hire a physical therapist assistant who has 2 Fs on their transcript.

Bottom line: My math goes as high as algebra and trig and half of precalculus. I damn who ever created this kind of math; logs in particular.

So since I need math to get my degree, and I'm not doing so hot, I've been thinking of switching my major. The questions in turn: What would I switch do? What am I good at? What are my skills? What can I do that would make me happy, that I won't be waking up miserable to every day for the rest of my life?

I've considered switching to Culanary. But I don't want to go away, I don't want to go to NCC for another 2 years, and I'm terribly crazy about going to Farmingdale. I LOVE cooking. I'm always screwing around with things at work.

I also considered being a Linguists major. I feel like I have a pretty strong aptitude for language. Of coarse, that means re learning German and a few other languages, but where can I apply that too? Perhaps at the U.N? A hospital as a translator? Or maybe I could use that and move up at Starbucks? Be a coffee negotiator or something like that? I get to travel, which is something I've always wanted to do. I'd have to take a few business classes probably. But I have a pretty good memory for stupid things like this. I remember the first sentence I ever learned in a different language. "waktashiwa tsuki des" (phonetically speaking), or simply "tsuki des" which means "I love you" in japanese. My grandfather taught me that when I was in third grade. And apparently, when I get pretty buzzed, I start speaking in German. My mother hates it when I do that.


I guess I'll see how the rest of the semester goes....

So, quick update: Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing, man. It's been 2 god damned months, and still no word. Fucking Nationwide. An answer would be nice, something besides "you have to wait XXXXX more weeks". Fuck that man.

I was an angry kid growing up, and just when things where at the epitome of peacefulness, this fucking shit happens. I don't think I've been so angry in my life before. Not just about the house but things in general. Turns out our neighbors (the ones who live to the right of us, if you're facing 55) aren't the neighbors we thought they were. I mean, after all my father's done for them, that's the thanks he gets? Our loss is greater, and the side of their house is already repaired. Dad asked, ASKED, if he could use their water so he could clean the fish pond and keep the fish alive. They shut the water on him 3 times that day, rolled up the hose and threw it back over the fence. What the fucking hell? My parents gave them some money to help replace things like curtains and other things that could've gotten destroyed. My parents offered to pay the difference for the water bill too. For an average family of 4, it's like, 10$ a month. They gave them 20$. Again, what the fucking hell? Dad's hoping that the wife (the one who kept screwing dad over) is just ragging on him to get it out of her system because the day before the incident, the husband had a triple bypass done, and i'm guessing his job is on the teeter totter about it. But the wife said (according to my dad) "in so many words", that she was going to sue us. For what, exactly?

Then, the Chinese couple across the street from us told my dad that some one is spreading a nasty rumor saying that my dad started the fire on purpose. Any one who knew us, and what a nice home we had would know otherwise, but still... Every winter until about 7 years ago, dad would go up and down the ENTIRE fucking block with the snowblower to get people out. Not one of them paid for gasoline or anything thing. He's lent tools, ladders, helped out with so many things and yet someone has the balls to say that about my father. I swear right here and now, that when I find out who started it, I'm going to hunt them down, and kick their ass. My father has a good name, and just hearing that hurt me to my core.

Because of all the bullshit that's happened, my parents have been taking the idea of moving seriously. Now that, just ripped my heart out and broke it. If it came to that, I'm getting my own apartment, dropping out of school and taking up a second job. Call it stubborn, call immature, I honestly don't fucking care what anyone thinks any more. My dad spent (literally) half his life, and my parents' whole marriage into that house for nearly fucking 30 years. My brother would probably be apathetic about it, but I'm not. Just thinking about it hurts. They've considered Bayville. Fucking Bayville.

Yeah, I know, it's only up the road. But that's not the point. It's further away from everyone. It's far away. It's very isolated. And it's an inconvenience, at least in my eyes. He's even toying with the idea of moving out of state. I won't have that. I'm staying here. I finally found and got what I was looking for. I'm not losing what I found. I can't, and I don't think my heart can take it.

Not going to lie, this... event, is turning me back into such a bitter and angry person. And I really don't want to be that person again, but it's the only thing right now that's helping me deal with it. I wish I could describe what I feel...

I don't think I can deal with this... not very well, at least. Any advice?

So, turns out there is a Japanese course during the summer. So Mei and Christa, if you want to: register before May 9th, I think it said...

I registered for a summer class that goes from May 26-the week of June 22, which is fantastic, because I get 3 credits out of the way, and I still get to have the rest of summer. I also registered for the fall semester, and I have mondays, fridays, saturdays and sundays off. Awesome sauce, right there. And I'm taking Japanese, and in the next spring semester, I plan on taking German. I really do miss it.

So, getting ready was a HUGE cluster fuck. We made it to the church, JUST as she was getting ready to walk down the aisle. OMG she was so beautiful, and I've never seen look so happy in my life before. I've known her since I was 18 months old. And I almost cried I was so happy for her.

Part 2 coming soon!...

[[Part Deux]]

As I said, the ceremony was beautiful. And the place that they picked was beautiful. Stewart Manor Country Club in Garden City. Of coarse, they had Asian photographers. But the pictures will come out gorgeous. It was open bar (always a plus), and everything was lovely!

It was great to see my old friends again, too.

As per tradition: Every wedding must have some type of drama, catastrophe, or disaster. The groom got a little (a lot) drunk, got sick, went into fireman mode, asking about his captain and what not, and disappeared for a bit. Needless to say, Allyssa was unhappy. No bride should cry on her wedding day. She was really angry with him too. I don't blame her. I blame the groom to a certain extent, and his buddies. Part of the Best Man's job is to make sure that the groom doesn't get too tanked. He failed. They were doing continuous shots of Maker's Mark (Hard Bourbon) and god knows what. Allyssa wanted to cut the cake with him, but he was no where to be seen, and in an irrational state of mind, told the people to take it away and just serve it. Greg wanted to cut the cake with her, because it's his wedding day too. They managed to save the very top of the cake. When they were supposed to feed it to each other, she shoved it, like REALLY shoved it in his face. And then the perfect song came on. I don't remember what it was but one of the lines was "One too many drinks". It was perfect. He had it coming. But she was still kind of angry. He was so trashed. I almost felt bad.

But all in all, it was a really good time, and I'm so proud of them. So proud, I could die. To say that I hope that they'll be happy together is a lie, because I know they will happy together. I saw it in her face.

So, I covered a shift today at the Westbury II Starbucks. It was interesting. I feel so spoiled at my store lol! At my store, we practically do nothing. In my head the whole time I was thinking "Gee, so this is what it's like to busy at work..."

I got up at stupid o clock this morning, like 5, to go to work at 6:30. I really liked the people (albeit, it was only 2) who worked there. They were pretty nice. Especially John; he was cool to talk to. He reminds me a bit of Tom. He also has pretty hair. Every time his back was turned, I would just stare at it. It's to the middle of his back, and it's long, and it's black, and it's shiny, and I really want to know what kind of shampoo and conditioner he uses... hmm... Though, I think that the store manager, the one that I opened with, thinks I'm weird or something. Not going to lie, I was one big ball of clumsy today! My nerves were so frazzled! lol

But they were still really nice. I just wish it wasn't so cramped. I turn around and I'm facing the wall. It's kind of claustrophobic... as much as I liked it there, I just hope I don't get transferred there. Naturally, it'd be convienient, but i don't think I could handle the closeness. I hate small spaces. It really ruffles my feathers, ya know?

YAY MIYAVI'S GOING TO BE A DADDY!!!!!!!! *bounces around with joy* CONGRATS MEEVERS!!!!!!<3

OMG i'm so incredibly happy for him... like, tears of joy, you have no idea lol

i had to get this out of my system lol but i'm just so fucking excited for him!!!!!!! yay!

do you think they're going to name the kid something crazy? Or something normal? Cuz a lot of rockstar kids have names like Cash, Dandelion, etc...

JKLAJDFJK AJGHR'ILEHTAGIRAHRW'GIRW'FSZXBLSZ/

is how i feel right now. i'm just so fucking pissed off today. i can't get my hw done because apparently, there's no such thing as silence in this fucking house, i can't read because someone sat on my reading glasses and bent them so out of shape, one of the lenses is threatening to pop out, and i can't even be left alone for 2 fucking minutes. my tolerance and patience is at an all time low. i just want silence. so help the poor asshole that pisses me off.

i think i've been handling this fucked up situation pretty well, and with everything else piled on top, i think i've been doing decent. there's no such thing as silence with my family. and i don't want to talk to anyone about it because it only pisses me off more. i really want to punch a hole through the wall. and i'm at the point where i just might.

So, Dad just bought my brother and me an xbox 360 and a ps2 against our will. One new, one used. But it was against our will. What's wrong with that? I'm actually kind of worried about that.

So, I read his Myspace blog.... not going to lie, it sounds true. I just feel so bad that we had to find out this way and not hear it from him. I understand his frustration....

but i don't know if it IS true.

Well, yesterday during work, I had this feeling come over me, like I felt incredibly lucky. So after work I go play lotto scratch offs. In the end I won 4 Take 5 quick picks after at least 7 rounds. That feeling continued all through today. I didn't win, but I did get all my stuff back from the fire. All my clothes and stuff like that were being O-zoned and I got a lot of things back. I think that's a lot better than winning lotto. I'm so very happy that I got a lot of things back, including my fedora ^__^. I was so miserable with out it, mostly in this kind of weather too...

mood: happy

Just got the results from taxes. Holy fucking shit, man. I owe 148$ to the state and 200-something to the government. Fuck that. AND! I don't qualify for the Stimulus plan, because I "make too much". Fuck that man, I'm working my ass off at a little more than minimum wage 12-15 hours a week AND I'm a college student. Excuse me, but, um, WHAT?! I made less than 5,000 this year. I'm so glad I'm taking up a second job this summer. What about other people who pulled in less than that? Do they qualify because of their race? Is my hard earned money going to an asshole who does nothing but sit on the front porch drinking? Or is it going to something worth while? Excuse me, but I want my fucking money back. I'm not working my ass off to put someone else's kid through school when they don't even pay school taxes or anything of the sort. It happens.

Any way, Fuck that man...

So, it was actually really nice...

My favorite part however, was when mom and I were walking to St. Andrew's via Time's Square, we passed this group of rather young (and most definately wasted) group of girls. First, they try to take a picture, and the girl in the front falls down, that's how I know they were trashed. Then, when they walk across the street, this one chubby girl of the group starts to stumble, and makes a swan dive to kiss the front tire of a taxi. Unfortunately, we all saw up her short mini denim skirt. I don't know if she was wearing underwear or a thong, but damn, honey, get some underwear. Mom had actually said that to her. It was so fucking funny. Then when we were walking back from St. Andy's, this group of young boys kept pace with us. One of them asked "Dude, where's your friend with the alcohol?" "By 80th." Mom turned around and said "80th's the other direction." We were heading to 36th. Douche bags.

I went driving today, and on the street a little past Herzog and Jerusalem, and old man driving kind of tapped into the right side of the mini van. He didn't see it coming but I did, and wailed on the horn. EPIC REASON that old people shouldn't drive: They can't pay attention to their surroundings, even at 15 mph. (Not even that fast... shit, man.)

Btw, I got an industrial. Shit that hurt. That hurt worse than fucking ink, man....

(I have no idea why that's the title... it was the next three songs from my iTunes, and I couldn't think of anything creative. And it sounds really dirty...)

Well, life is seemingly going back to normal here at 135. It's amazing how my parents are trying to get everyone back on a schedule for a sense of normality. But they're really starting to feel the post traumatic stress. Dad came in my room the other night and starting babbling about how the electricity was out (when it wasn't because I was up on the computer). He had a really bad dream about the fire and dreamt he couldn't find me. Which I don't blame him, because I wasn't in my room when it happened. But I was really confused... Mom made soup for him and we stayed up until 2 in the morning. Last night mom said she dreamt she was "almost Joan of Arc". Sunday we had a parade (and naturally, I don't remember much >.> lol) but I do remember we in in a bar and we started talking about how grateful we were that 1) I wasn't home and 2) Chris was home and got everyone out fine, because if he hadn't mom and dad would've been roasty toasty and the I'd be lost. I'm not feeling the same stress as them and Chris is fine... he goes to the gym. It's just hitting me differently which is why I'm so engrossed in my work and studies and cleaning. But I'm actually really cool with everything. Actually, things are feeling like they're in a perpetual dream state, and I don't feel like I'm me. Something actually kind of awesome has happened to me with in the last two weeks since the fire. I'm becoming a picky eater, eating only fresh stuff and/or organic stuff, I haven't had a cup of coffee in two weeks, only water (except for this Sunday), and I've been eating veggies like it's nobody's business. Mom made salad twice this week, and I ate the whole bowl. It's a pretty big salad bowl, too. It's like something decided to switch on... But it's a good thing, I guess... My pants don't fit me anymore, and I've washed them. Normally I'm a 16, but I bought a pair of pants for the parade, and they're huge on me! I don't know if it could be just the pants, though everything should be standard sized, ja?


On the other hand! Rob Thurman's new book, "Deathwish", is FUCKING AWESOME. The style got switched up, so now we can a window into the mind that is Niko's. It's actually pretty exciting.

Well, 135 is pretty habitable, so I'll be moving in shortly. As much as I love my aunt, and I really appreciate how much she's done for me and my family, and for what's she done, I would like to move out of 16. It's not her, she's been absolutely lovely. It's my uncle. I get this feeling like we're some major inconveinence to him, and we are. My mother lives by this mantra: "It's not how people behave in the good times, it's how they behave in the worst." And right now, his true colors are coming through, and it makes me feel really guilty, like I'm a pest or something. It's like he's thinking, "What the fuck are they still doing here?". Last night at dinner I really felt it. It's not like my brother and I are mooching. We help out. We'll do the dishwasher, laundry, anything that needs to be done. And we obey my aunt's rules. Yesterday I went out and shoveled snow and cleaned off everyone's car, even his. What the fuck? Where the fuck was he? I didn't mind doing it, but Aunt Joy came out and help. She wasn't very pleased that he wasn't doing anything. Chris had woken up early, shoveled a path and then went around the neighborhood to make some cash. The other day, the ceiling of the ground floor in my grandma's room started leaking. Eventually the wet part fell. It's not a really big hole, maybe 14 inches across? He flipped a shit. He blamed us, mostly my brother (who's kind of the king of 45 minute showers, but he's been good about it over there). My aunt wouldn't have it. Neither would my mother. How dare he blame us for that. It's been an on going problem. When they refurbished 16, they didn't fix the problem, they just painted over the seal. And if my father hadn't poked at it, the water would've leaked over to the electric fixtures, frying everything. It also gave the water a chance to dry out. If he hadn't poked around, it would've grown into mold and mildew, rotting the wood and eventually cave in the top floor. Aunt Joy doesn't want dad to any more favors for my uncle for as long as he lives (but for her, he has to do everything lol). Dad's helped him out so many times. Dad couldn't stay at 16 because he felt so un-welcomed. He felt so un-welcomed that he spent a few nights over at 55 in the condition it was in. Like, are you fucking kidding me? My dad's done so many favors for you and this is how you're going to treat his family in a time of need? God forbid that anything happens to 16, t but if they were in the scenario we were in, we would let them stay for as long as they needed. No question, and it wouldn't be an inconvience for us. Shit, I'd even let them use my bed provided they don't do anything nasty in it and I would use an aero-bed or the couch.

I understand that my uncles is emotionally fucked up from his childhood. I understand that he's emotionally hardwired differently from the rest of the family. He's a very routined, structured person. But cut us some slack, man. Don't bitch about how much the hole in ceiling and the plumbing job is going to cost. You just sold your house in Seaford and have a nice cushion of money under your ass. You just bought a new car. We lost our home. Our home. He's living at 16 for free. He doesn't own any of it. 16 belongs to my aunt and my mother. The mortgage is totally paid off, and you only have to pay for insurance which is like 50$ a month, and taxes. I could live with paying a 1,000 a month. He's living there for fucking free. We have just as much right to be there as you. Half of it belongs to my mother. Also, he didn't want my grandmother living there. Before she died, it was her home, and she was letting you live there for free as well. She didn't charge you rent... but he didn't want her living there. How dare he. That's my grandmother, your mother in law. When he and Aunt Joy where living in Seaford, his mom lived there in the lower level, just like my grandmother. Aunt Joy didn't have a say whether his mom should stay or go. She stayed. And she was a fucking bitch to my aunt. And I remember he said that he missed grandma more than his own. Besides, if he were so concerned about money, he should go get a REAL job. He's a musician so I think you understand. His gigs don't earn a lot.


I'm really pissed off that he feels this way about us staying at 16 for a while. Right now it's just my brother and I staying there. Mom and dad are at 135. It's not like my brother and I are bothering anyone. My brother has the upstairs green room, and he stays in there most of the time, and I'm in the living room most of the time doing homework and classwork. I would gladly use the downstairs we're I'm staying, but I don't have a desk or a hard surface to use. I don't ask for much, and I'm not spoiled. I hate having things given to me. I love to work for stuff because it makes it that much more rewarding. I do my part every where I go . I'm always offering to do stuff, even for people I don't know. It just really makes me mad and upset that makes me feel like I'm an annoyance. He's been my uncle my whole life, and I don't hate him. He's the only uncle I have. My mother's brother is basically dead to me. I'm really apathetic to the peripheral family, except for my Aunt Liz who at least calls. I'm just really upset that he feels this way. I wouldn't do that, that's not what family does. It's more like he's just tolerating us rather than be welcoming.

So, today I'm going to talk to my mom about it and then tell my aunt that 135 is habitable and that we'll be moving in today. It's not her, and she's not chasing us out. She wants people in the house. She loves it! He's more of a loner, and I don't think he was terribly thrilled with me having my friends over the other night. I'm actually really put off by it. It's not like we're majorly interrupting his schedule either. Before when we were all staying at 16, he bitched to my aunt how 'oh i don't want to go up to the bedroom at 10' when I would go up in to the living room where I was going to be sleeping on the couch. I wasn't chasing anyone out. I just wanted to chill out there because Chris wanted privacy and I didn't want to go to the green room because there's no heat in there. He could've stayed there until 3 in the fucking morning and I would still be up.

Well, bottom line is I'm taking my stuff and Chris' stuff over to 135 today. I just don't want to upset or hurt my aunt in any way, because she's been nothing but gracious and oh so accomidating for us, and I love her dearly.

"The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating- in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. to commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life" - Anne Morriss (I got this from the Starbucks cup I'm drinking out of lol)

location: 135 mood: uncomfortable

So, like I said, we're crashing at my aunt's house and we're trying to find a place to stay. So far, we found two prospective places. one on 10th street, and one on 9th. The one on 9th street almost brought my mother to tears because, although spacious, it was kept shabbily. The one on 10th street is half the size, but 1000X nicer. The only thing is, the guy who owns it, isn't too keen on towfoo. We through in a deal to pay for steamer treatment at the end of the lease, but we haven't even spoken to the guy yet. We are expected to live there for 5-6 months when 55 is habitable. The pictures I took are up on facebook, so if you want, take a look. it's actually a pretty awesome sight. it's better today that it was yesterday when I took them. Upstairs isn't recognizable what so ever.

I just count myself very lucky that I'm surrounded by people who care so much. Really, thank you all so much, it means the world to me. I couldn't ask for better people than you guys <3

Which happens to be the literal interpretation of the hour. So uh, since, people find out eventually, might as well just say it now: last night, about 1/3 of my home burnt down. I don't know how it happened. I was over at Allison's, which was probably the best thing beccause my room had a lot of smoke damage. I guess we're crashing over at my aunt's house for a while, but I don't know what's going to happen after that. No one was hurt, thank god, otherwise I'd be in a mental institution. From what I do know, the fire started from the shed (which is right next to my room), but Chris noticed smoke coming into his room, and proceeded to get my parents up. He grabbed not only his xbox (which I find hilarious) he grabbed both of our macs, and I'm eternally grateful for it. His mentality at the time was grab what ever we can sell. But he did the right thing, and I'm very proud of him, and I'm so glad that my family is alright. When I got the call from my neighbor, I rushed out of Alru's house, and some how, managed to hit every freaking red light on the way home. Just my luck, ne?

So needless to say, I'm completely stunned. We managed to salvage what ever we could at the time. I grabbed most of my clothes, because what used to be my room is now an indoor swimming pool. And I recieved word this morning, that the roof of my room has caved in, and that my brother's is in the process off. My dad just called me and said that they're going to have to do inventory, which means: my mac is going to be confiscated because it's covered in what they call "toxic smoke". I don't want to forfiet it. That has my life on it. Unless they can transfer all my information (including my 4000 songs that I just got back. >.<), then sure, whatever. But all my clothes, my drawings, my ps2+3, all my DMC shit, except for the Vergil figure I got for christmas. That thing goes where I go. Any way, they said repairs can take 4-10 months. I don't know what to do, and I don't know where we're going to stay that allows dogs.

So far, this year fucking sucks.