So.
Bethie's going home.
And I'm very, very envious.
I wish I could go home.
Not because I miss dad or Char or Mark or Knife. No. Heck no. I just miss my room and my stuff.
So I called up my dad and asked him. And he said YES!
I'm leaving for Denver tomorrow. Finally, home, home, home!
Or so they think..
~Essie~
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The Suckiness of it All
I'm here at the Performing Arts school that I told y'all about.
Jeez, I l-o-v-e my roommates.
They're so laid back, unlike Char who had to have everything in a place. And I'm allowed to jump on the beds here. If I were at home, my butt would be beet red from a severe spanking. Yet, Char lets Mark do it all the time. And I can blare my iPod loudly, and no one would yell at me for listening to music with meaning.
But whatever. I'm finally away from Denver and my repulsive family.
I'm really...different from my roommates.
Mandy is girly, and so's Hilarie. I'm NOT girly. They both wear makeup. I try my hardest not to gag.
Bethie's......weird. She's just different. I don't know if it's in the good way. It's hard to tell if she's happy at times or not. Like, no matter how much she smiles, it's always evident that she's sad. I try to get her to laugh, but I can tell it's hard for her.
She's also got a blog!
http://www.elizabethatthefactory.blogspot.com/
In reading her older posts, I fully understand why she's upset. She's been through a lot of heartbreak, with her best friend leaving and her boyfriend treating her like yarn. The popular girls outcasting her into the sea of outcastedness.
Maybe that's why I like this school so much better then my old school. At my old school, I was the weird girl. I had very few friends, and nobody really talked to me unless they were insulting me or telling me to shut up. I even felt like an outcast in my own home, what, with Char and Knife and Mark. Here, nobody's really an outcast because we're all performers. We can be dramatic and artistic without looking like a complete and utter retard.
Maybe I should live here.
~S~
Jeez, I l-o-v-e my roommates.
They're so laid back, unlike Char who had to have everything in a place. And I'm allowed to jump on the beds here. If I were at home, my butt would be beet red from a severe spanking. Yet, Char lets Mark do it all the time. And I can blare my iPod loudly, and no one would yell at me for listening to music with meaning.
But whatever. I'm finally away from Denver and my repulsive family.
I'm really...different from my roommates.
Mandy is girly, and so's Hilarie. I'm NOT girly. They both wear makeup. I try my hardest not to gag.
Bethie's......weird. She's just different. I don't know if it's in the good way. It's hard to tell if she's happy at times or not. Like, no matter how much she smiles, it's always evident that she's sad. I try to get her to laugh, but I can tell it's hard for her.
She's also got a blog!
http://www.elizabethatthefactory.blogspot.com/
In reading her older posts, I fully understand why she's upset. She's been through a lot of heartbreak, with her best friend leaving and her boyfriend treating her like yarn. The popular girls outcasting her into the sea of outcastedness.
Maybe that's why I like this school so much better then my old school. At my old school, I was the weird girl. I had very few friends, and nobody really talked to me unless they were insulting me or telling me to shut up. I even felt like an outcast in my own home, what, with Char and Knife and Mark. Here, nobody's really an outcast because we're all performers. We can be dramatic and artistic without looking like a complete and utter retard.
Maybe I should live here.
~S~
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The Fricking First Post
I shoved my stupid top into my stupid suitcase on my stupid bed in my stupid room. The commotion downstairs. Char yelling at Mark. Reminded me of mom and dad's divorce. Ugh.
Knife slammed on his guitar in the room next to me. His real name was Kevin, but if you called him Kevin he'd strangle you till your face turned blue. I would know. So he insisted that everyone call him Knife.
"Savannah, dear! Supper time!" Char called my name. Char was my step mom. My real mom divorced my dad when I was seven, and then she moved to Maryland. All across the country. My dad remarried a lady, otherwise known as Charlene Joanne Phipps. She was trying to convince me to call her Mom, but I still refused. Char was...ick. Mark was her annoying six year old son who she and my dad had a year after they got married.
"Vannah!" Char called. My mom used to call me Vannah, and I hated when Char did. When Mom called me Vannah it was like the world was calm. When Char called me Vannah, it was like she was trying too hard to be motherly.
I heard Char's footsteps coming up the stairs, and I raced to the door and slammed it shut, then pressed the lock. Char in my room was like a bear in a doll house--irritating.
"Savannah Rae! Open this door up now!" Char hollered as she pounded on my door.
"I'm packing." I lashed out, angrily. Char can shove it. I hated her.
"Eat first!" She said.
I tore my door open and shoved past her. I stomped down the steps and plopped down at the dinner table. Dad had put a piece of chicken already on my plate, and a potato to go along with it.
"Hey, baby!" Dad hugged me.
"Hi Daddy." I hugged him back.
I sat down at the table and waited for Knife, Mark, and Char to come downstairs. When they arrived, I stuffed the chicken in my mouth.
"Eat like a lady, Van." Char said, sternly.
Just to make my point, I shoved another piece of chicken into my mouth and chewed, ferociously, with my mouth open.
If you're wondering what I'm packing FOR, it's this new school. Called Merry Rose Performing Arts Academy. It's all across the county in New Jersey. So I'll be "studying" on the JERSEY FREAKING SHORE!!!!
And farther away from Char. HECK YESSS <33
-Savannah
Knife slammed on his guitar in the room next to me. His real name was Kevin, but if you called him Kevin he'd strangle you till your face turned blue. I would know. So he insisted that everyone call him Knife.
"Savannah, dear! Supper time!" Char called my name. Char was my step mom. My real mom divorced my dad when I was seven, and then she moved to Maryland. All across the country. My dad remarried a lady, otherwise known as Charlene Joanne Phipps. She was trying to convince me to call her Mom, but I still refused. Char was...ick. Mark was her annoying six year old son who she and my dad had a year after they got married.
"Vannah!" Char called. My mom used to call me Vannah, and I hated when Char did. When Mom called me Vannah it was like the world was calm. When Char called me Vannah, it was like she was trying too hard to be motherly.
I heard Char's footsteps coming up the stairs, and I raced to the door and slammed it shut, then pressed the lock. Char in my room was like a bear in a doll house--irritating.
"Savannah Rae! Open this door up now!" Char hollered as she pounded on my door.
"I'm packing." I lashed out, angrily. Char can shove it. I hated her.
"Eat first!" She said.
I tore my door open and shoved past her. I stomped down the steps and plopped down at the dinner table. Dad had put a piece of chicken already on my plate, and a potato to go along with it.
"Hey, baby!" Dad hugged me.
"Hi Daddy." I hugged him back.
I sat down at the table and waited for Knife, Mark, and Char to come downstairs. When they arrived, I stuffed the chicken in my mouth.
"Eat like a lady, Van." Char said, sternly.
Just to make my point, I shoved another piece of chicken into my mouth and chewed, ferociously, with my mouth open.
If you're wondering what I'm packing FOR, it's this new school. Called Merry Rose Performing Arts Academy. It's all across the county in New Jersey. So I'll be "studying" on the JERSEY FREAKING SHORE!!!!
And farther away from Char. HECK YESSS <33
-Savannah
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