Saturday...

I woke up this morning to RAIN.  again... Had a really yummy breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and half a bagel YUMMY. Now, it's time for homework, i'll get back to you later.. Toodles.

SO... Just got back from dinner with Joey. We had Bobby Salazars! Yummmy. His parents are leaving bright and early tomorrow morning, at like 3 am. That is crazy. Then they are heading to LA- then Las Vegas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas Baby. lol Me and my bro will be home all by ourselves, we're gonna party it up... jk. (maybe). It's gonna be a fun weekend. :-D

I hope everyone is enjoying this fine friday afternoon. I'm so glad that the rain has passed and the sun is shining outside! I also hope everyone has enjoyed my story/essay posts. Let me know what you think of them please, so that i can improve my writing skills and get an overall idea of what you do or don't like about what i'm writing. Hope you have a great weekend! I for one am excited for the weekend because I am staying with my lil brother Joey (he's 14, not so little). But to me he is still my younger brother. We are going to have lots of fun this weekend!!! <3

"Remember the Smile"

Here's yet another creative non fiction piece, but it's a bit longer than the other posts. It's still a work in progress...hope you like it.

Remember the Smile

My senior year in high school was one of the most memorable years of school for me. That year, so many things happened, that allowed me to get a new perspective on life. First off, I won a scholarship that gave me over $20,000 for college (including a Dell laptop, and separate money for my book expenses). I was also elected to be one of the board members for my school’s newspaper. I have always had a passion for writing, and being on the newspaper staff would give me more experience in the area that I needed most help in, that would also help me in the future.

 I took writing very seriously that year, and still do. Writing is a major part of my life; after all it is a serious matter. I loved getting caught up in my articles, even when they weren’t interesting writing topics. Often times I would have to write about petty things, such as the color of graduation gowns, and getting new computers in the library, but I still loved the excitement that came when writing my articles. Seeing my name in print on the newspapers gave me much hope that one day, I would see many more published works with my name on them. My writing was someday going to take me somewhere. I just knew it.

I remember one night; I was in my room working on some brainstorming exercises for an article that was due that week. My door was shut, as I always enjoyed doing my homework with no disturbances.  I heard my grandma call both my sister and myself for dinner. I could smell the aroma of the hamburgers my grandma had made, even with the door shut tight. I never liked my grandma’s hamburgers. They were never seasoned properly, and they were always overcooked. I don’t like my beef to “moo” but I don’t like it when it’s burnt either, it needs to be just the right amount of red in order for me to actually enjoy it.

As we sat around the dinner table, we often talked about the day’s events. It was usually boring conversations, about the weather or maybe something that happened at school that day. I noticed that as my grandpa came and sat down to join us, he forgot to turn the television off in the living room. I could hear the news as it played in the background. My mind kept going from the dinner conversation, to the breaking news stories on ABC.

I remember my sister was informing us of something that had happened at school that day, but I was really only half listening. I was trying to listen to the news, because something had caught my attention. The name Krista Pike, and a picture of her now 18 year old self, lay across the screen.

“Natali—can you be quiet for just one minute please?!?!” I asked, not meaning to bite her head off. Something about that name sent a chill through my body that made me burst from my chair, and up from the table into the living room.

I turned the TV up, and listened with full attention. “Family and friends of a young North Valley woman who was murdered this week are saying their goodbyes today. Krista-Rae Pike’s body was found on Monday inside the Madera home she shared with her fiancé and his father. Action news reporter Laurie Penco shows us how people are remembering the victim…”

It was January 16, 2008, two days after the brutal attack on my friend. News of her death was just reaching the community. My knees collapsed from underneath me as I fell to the floor. I could not control the salty tears that fell down my face. My younger sister got up from the table and sat down beside me.

“Sis, did you know that girl Krista?” she asked.

“Yeah… I did… we were friends in elementary school, and junior high. But I haven’t seen her in years.  She switched schools before we went into high school”.

“Oh…Are you going to be ok?” she asked, concerned.

“Ya… It’s just… I’m never going to see her again.” I realized. I got up from the carpeted floor, “Can I be excused, please? I’m not hungry anymore”, I asked my grandma as I went to my room. I really didn’t wait for her to answer; I just left, and shut my bedroom door behind me.

            As I lay in my bed that night, in my own little world of memories, all the details of our friendship came back to me clearer than ever before. It’s not that we were best of friends, or even really close friends. After all, I never really went to find her after she left our school. I never had her phone number, and she never came over to my house for sleepovers. The idea of not being one of her best friends didn’t seem to matter anymore, because she had impacted my life, just by being a friend. These memories that I had collected, even though they were small, and unimportant to someone else, were all that I had left of her. I was never going to be able to run into her at the store, or see her around town, because she was no longer alive… I was never going to see her again.

            That night, I cried with some of my friends on the phone, who shared other memories that they found comforting. Together, we cried, as friends often do. I fell asleep that night with thoughts of Krista in my mind…

I remember the day I met her. She was in Mr. Eicholtz’s 4^th grade class, same as me. Her name was Krista Pike. There was just something about her that I didn’t have. The way that she smiled, the way that she laughed, the way that she walked with confidence… There was a glow about her; a glow that I wish I had. And even though I didn’t know everything there was to know about her, she stood out to me as someone I wanted to be friends with, because I wanted to be like her, full of happiness and joy. That same year, during lunch hour in the cafeteria, I sat next to her, and in that moment we became friends.

In 8^th grade gym, we had to run the mile.  In order to get a passing grade of “c”, we had to get a ten minute time. My teacher Mrs. Wood, had told us earlier that week that we needed to find a partner, so that we could help each other finish the mile, and encourage each other along the way.  On the day of the mile, I hadn’t yet found a partner. I was on my way over to the gym locker rooms to change when Krista caught up to me. She hadn’t found a partner yet either, so she asked me to be hers. In that moment we became each other’s encouragement.

As we were heading to the gym together, Krista asked me to read a story that she had been writing, about her best friend. For a moment, I thought maybe that friend was me. But really, after I thought about it for awhile, Krista and I were not the best of friends. We were just friends, good friends.

As I read her story, I came to realize that her best friend was her dog. Her dog was always there for her to talk to and he was the best listener when she needed him. At the end of the story, I came to know that her dog had just died… and she felt that she had lost her best friend. When I was done reading, I looked up at her, and I remember telling her that she would always have a friend in me, and that if she ever needed anyone to talk to, or lend an ear, I was there for her. I remember telling her “Even if you just need a shoulder, I’ll be there to give you mine, and together, we can cry”.

When Krista and I ran the mile that day, we completed with an 8 minute, some odd second finishing time. Together, we got an A. We finished the mile with a good time, and made it through. I realized though, that as we passed the finish line, Krista was in pain. She fell hard to the black rocky asphalt, her pale face stained with tears. She couldn’t breathe. She gave me her locker combination, between gasps for breath, and I ran as fast as I could, to retrieve her Albuterol inhaler, before things got worse.

As I came back, I saw that she was crying from the pain that resided inside of her. I felt like such a horrible friend. Tears began to stream down my face as well; I was feeling guilty for pushing her too much. What have I done? I had never even realized she was having trouble breathing; she just kept going as if she were having no trouble at all getting through the run. But there she was, lying on the ground, suffering because I kept telling her “Come on Krista, we can do this” and “We’re almost there, we got it”, encouraging her, as was the purpose for having a partner in the first place.

Later that day, in Mr. Archer’s history class, Krista kept reassuring me that it wasn’t my fault for her asthma attack. She was great at that; always being optimistic about everything, even when her friends (like me) had caused her pain. Krista was the kind of girl who never let things get her down. That’s how I always saw her, in good spirits, always happy and smiling, looking at the good stuff about life, rather than the bad things.

Sometime later that same year, I went to the girl’s bathroom during my lunch break. I remember it was a stormy, rainy day. It looked as if the night had taken over the day; the light had disappeared from the sky. It was gloomy outside, as the rain poured down from above. I always dreaded these kinds of days, as it made me sad and gloomy seeing no sunshine in the sky.

As I was doing what people normally do in the bathroom, I heard a voice in the stall next to me, crying. I could tell it was Krista. But she was crying… a side of her I had never seen before; as I was sure it wasn’t something she liked to let show. I asked her if she was alright, and was given the reply “Go away!” I knew she didn’t really mean that. After all, I was her friend. So, I did what any friend would do in this situation. Instead of leaving the bathroom, I went and sat on the counter until she came out of her hiding place. As I waited, I wondered what was wrong with her that caused her such a meltdown.

Once she came out, she filled me in, as friends often do. She told me that her and her boyfriend, who I have forgotten the name of at the moment (after all it was over 7 years ago), were fighting and she feared they were breaking up. I sat there with her on the bathroom counter, as she cried on my shoulder. When we heard the lunch bell rang, we walked to class together, and sat next to each other as well, so that her boyfriend wouldn’t try to sit in the no longer vacant seat beside her.  

When I got to school the next day, everything looked as it had the day before. Nothing had changed. I thought things would be different. I remember when Donovan, a fellow classmate and victim to a car accident, had died the summer before my senior year. And when everyone went back to school at the beginning of the year, everything was different. But today, nothing seemed to have changed as I had expected they would.

            Going into the journalism room that morning, I noticed one of my journalism teachers, Tyler Takeda, in the back of the room by the computers, reading the Fresno Bee. He turned his head, and looked at me as I stood by the door. Our eyes met, and we clicked for a brief moment. I felt as if all the other students in the classroom were staring at me, but I knew they weren’t.

“Tyler…..” I said slowly.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I think I may have found my story…” oh great, here come those salty tears again! I couldn’t stop them. I had no control over the wetness that trailed down my face.

“You sure?” was all he said. Was I sure? Not really…

“Yes… no...” I hesitated. “But it’s a story that needs written… and I think I should do it- For Krista”.

            I went to my desk, and took out a pencil and paper, two main ingredients that all writers need to complete the perfect recipe. I jotted down my working title. “Krista Pike: Murdered at 18”. I sat there for the entire period, staring at my blank paper that consisted of nothing but a title. Could I really do this? I would need contacts and references, and facts. I would need to talk to Friends who knew Krista, and who could justify the great friend that she was. Could I handle the pressure?

As I contemplated how to even begin such an emotionally consuming article, Tyler came and sat down in the vacant desk next to me. He took out his own red pen, crossed out my too blunt of a title, and created something magnificent. It was just what I needed to create this memorial piece: “Krista Pike: Remember the Smile.”

New story!

Sorry I haven't been on since Monday. I have been extremely busy writing this week for my classes. I've had midterms and exams, and essays due. Aside from that I was sick for a few days, and slept most the time. But I do have some goodies to post for you. Firsto off, is a short lyric essay I just finished. Enjoy! <3

White Fluffy Goodness

White and full of life, these fluffy puffs of goodness fill the sky as I lay on the cement ground that is warmed by the rays of the sunlight beaming down on me.

They take on many forms: dinosaurs, castles, animals, people, but they only take form to those who believe in their magic. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder; the viewer only see’s what they want to see when it comes to these cotton puffs.

They look like cotton candy with no food coloring- just pure white cotton puffs that surround the blue sky above. The viewer sees cotton candy in the sky because she wants to- but really clouds have no resemblance to cotton candy whatsoever. We always seem to see things the way we want to see them, even if what we see isn’t really the reality. Someone looking at a cloud and seeing a white sheep, see’s a white sheep because they want to, not because the cloud really takes that form. It all depends on the person viewing the cloud, and the mood that they are in.

Clouds take many different forms. You have only to look up into the sky to try your luck at weather forecasting to see the different forms. Clouds give us a clue about what is going on in our atmosphere and how the weather might change in the hours or even days to come. Each type of cloud forms in a different way, and each brings its own kind of weather. 

Clouds are water. We can find water in three forms: liquid, solid and gas. Water as a gas is called water vapor. Clouds form when water vapor turns back into liquid water droplets. This is condensation. We get a sight of condensation when looking at a cold glass of water. Unlike the drops on the side of your glass though, the droplets of water in a cloud are so small that it takes about one million of them to form a single raindrop.  Most clouds form this way, but the cooling comes not from ice in a glass, but as the air rises and cools high in the sky. Each tiny cloud droplet is light enough to float in the air, just as a little cloud floats out from your breath on a cold winter day. 

When I look into the sky and see a ball of puff, all it really is, is water. When I was eight, I learned that clouds weren’t the cotton candy I thought them up to be. My imagination came crumbling down, all because of a road trip I took with my family. We were heading up to the mountains, and we were at a high enough elevation to where we were surrounded by thick patches of fog. I remember, as my grandpa was driving he told me “Shannon, you see that? We are high in the clouds.” From that day on, I thought that my mind was faulty because I had always thought that clouds were made of cotton.  The whole trip home I was in a state of sadness because my imagination had tricked me into thinking that clouds could really be made of cotton.

Twelve years down the road, I still view clouds as being white fluffy goodness in the sky. I love letting my mind wander through the sky, finding a cat reading a book, or the Kellogg’s frosted flakes tiger doing the same thing I was-- lying down, staring up into the blueness of the sky in search for characters changing forms. But really-- the sky isn’t blue is it? No, our eyes just perceive it to be that color. That’s a completely different story all together; let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

Rain Rain, Go away!

So... It's raining outside, and i'm sick. I really wish it wasnt raining because I have to go to class at 1 pm. My boyfriend changed his schedule of when he comes to see me, so rather than coming out today, wednesday and friday, he will be coming out tuesday, thursday and friday, so that he can go to bible study on Wednesday nights.

I'm working on my revisions for the essay I will be submitting for the creative non-fiction writing contest. I'm really excited about it, actually. My uncle Terry has helped me to improve my writing so much, and he is helping me with this project. There's a $100 prize involved, so I really want to WIN.

Not much else to report at the moment, but I will be back soon. Hugs (( <3 ))

What I Learned in Church today.

Today in church Pastor Karl went over the second commandment. For those of you who do not know the ten commandments the second one says " you shall not make any idols. You must never bow to any image or worship it in any way". Alot of the times, we think of our "idols" to be people- famous movie stars or actors, people we want to resemble in some way. But really, an idol can be ANYTHING, whether it's a hobby or a person or object. An idol is anything that takes the focus off of God, puts it on something else. Take a look at your life- do you have idols?

I know for me there are things that i sometimes will put in place of God. I will be doing something rather than reading my bible, or focusing on him. Sometimes, I think we forgot that God sees all- he see's everything we do, and he is with us always. Deuteronomy 4:15 says "for your own good then, make certain that you do not sin by making yourself an idol in any form at all.." Because idols will continue to diappoint you. God, on the other hand promises to never disappoint you.

Just a reminder that God should always come first- no matter what it is we think may be more important than him. There is nothing more important than God :-)

So i really want to write something for this writing contest, but I have no idea what to write about... any suggestions? It could be creative fiction or non fiction... There are so many options I could write about but for some reason, my brain can't think of anything. It's like there is a block forbidding me to brainstorm. I hate when that happens. I guess  I will have to think harder... I will come back when I have found a possible idea.

I am so glad that today is Friday. It has been a very long week. On tuesday, it felt like it should already be thursday. Do you ever feel that way? I'm not sure what i am doing this weekend. I have alot of homework to work on, and brainstorming for the creative non fiction writing contest that is going on at my school. I really want to enter. i could win $100. I need to create a piece that is more than 10 pages though. I've got alot of "works in progress" that i could probaby fix up to make that long. We shall see... Hope everyone has a great weekend. I will probably be back sometime this weekend. For now- its goodbye. :-)

Its been a busy couple of weeks for me... The stress of midterms is upon me. Taking three english classes is alot of work. I cant wait for next semester.... where, (surprise!) I'm taking 4 english classes... I think. We will see how that goes. I've been working on a couple different creative non fiction peices. I posted my first one already. My second one is almost nearly complete. I want it to be perfect before i post it up for everyone to see.

I'm going to be minoring in creative writing, ive decided. I'm really excited to see how that will change my outlook on my major. I will be an english major, with a creative writing minor :-) it has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

My eyelids are closing on me. I'm falling asleep as I am writing this to you... any minute now and i will be asleep. So i guess i better say goodbye- sorry for the "not saying so much" part in this blog. I will try and do better.. I promise.

Our 2 year Anniversary

March 13th was our 2 year anniversary. Me and boyfriend got together in 2009. He is the greatest guy i have ever known. On sunday night we went to olive garden and ordered the unlimited soup/salad/breadsticks combo. It was so scrumptious :-) Then we went back to my dorm and played a board game, it was really cute. It was a couples game, kind of like Monopoly. There were spaces that said "kiss your partner on the cheek" or "Hug your partner", it was fun! Cheesy, but still fun. Then yesterday we went to Red Robin and went to watch Red Riding Hood. All in all, it was a really great weekend.

Rango!

Going to see "Rango" at 5 its a new animated movie that is out, about a lizzard. It's gonna be fun!

hmmmm.... its now 12:05 and I found myself lost in the design template creating a new blog design.. what do you think?? I really gotta go to bed now... goodnight my friends!

Hello again! So sorry for the lacking of posts this weekend. I have been busy, doing nothing... I just forgot to post stuff. I'm thinking about cutting all junk food out starting wednesday... I need to lose like 15 pounds. If I could get down 15 pounds I would be happy. And junk food is my problem.. I love to snack!!! I just can't help it. So wish me luck on this adventure! Also, I had a new years resolution to hit the gym at least twice a week, but that has yet to happen (and it's already March)!!! So i will begin that adventure as well this week. Well, its 11:29pm, and I have an 8 am class tomorrow, stay tuned! ~ Shannon

Hey, check out my previous post, and tell me what you think! Please :-) I know it's a little long... but please just bare with me, and try :-0 Thanks! Let me know what you think, any suggestions, comments on revisions would be appreciated.

First Attempt at Creative Non fiction; Title: Definition of Success

Life, some would call it a game… Doesn’t it seem that way? You think you’re finally going to win, and then just like that you fall back, get knocked down, and lose. Well I for one, have been the one in last place; the one that feels so lost, out of place, and broken. So when you are that person remember this: you are never in last place, until you give up.

My younger sister posted that a few weeks ago on Facebook as her status. But isn’t that the truth? You can’t truly lose at anything until you give up. Giving up, for me, has never been an option. There have been times where I have wanted to give up; I felt that I was failing at everything I tried to accomplish, and that I was never going to be good enough for anyone. I realized though, that you can’t give up and hope to accomplish something good. It just doesn’t happen that way. In the years I have been alive, I have felt “lost, out of place, and broken”.  I have had to endure hardships just like any other person, but my hardships always seemed worse than everyone else’s. …

I don’t think these feelings we get are genetic. I think that everyone goes through those same feeling of being in last place, at some time in their life. Most oftentimes when I’ve felt this way, it was because something in my life just wasn’t working (and I imagine it was the same for my sister). I always seemed to feel bad about myself, that I wasn’t good enough for anybody, especially my grandparents, who adopted me, and that no matter what I did, it was never going to be enough or to their (or anyone else’s for that matter) expectations.

“Congratulations, you have been selected to be a recipient of the Dell Scholarship.” The Dell Scholarship: an opportunity for every individual to succeed. They look not at the need for money, but at the individual and the person they want to become. “It starts with you… you control your life…You can succeed”.

A once in a lifetime chance, changed my entire future. If not for this scholarship (and for my teacher’s persistence for me to apply), I wasn’t able to go to a 4 year college; I wasn’t able to make something of myself. By Going to college I could prove that I could do something with my life, and that my past wasn’t going to reflect the person I would become in the future.  This scholarship granted me $20,000 for a 4 year school, and included a brand new laptop w/ printer, and money for my school books.

My grandparents always had this idea in their heads’ that I and my sister were going to be just like our parents. This idea, however, was highly opinionated and not worthy of understanding. It was unreal to think that my grandpa could even say, basically, that it didn’t matter what we did in life, we were going to end up like our parents. What did they think; that because our parents, at the time, were unable to take care of us, that they were never going to change? I couldn’t even grasp such a concept.

“Hi, this is Chandra, can I please talk to my girls. I have respected your wishes and stayed away, and now I would just like to talk to them. Can I please have that chance?”.

“Hang on, you will have to talk to Dale”, I heard grandma say, as she took the phone to grandpa.

“Hello”

“Hello Dale. It’s Chandra. I was calling to see if I could have your permission to talk to Shannon please.”

“I don’t give a damn who Shannon talks to. She’s 18 years old; she can talk to whoever the hell she wants. (He now gets off the phone, and grandma takes the phone to my room).

“Shannon, telephone”, my grandma said, as she handed me the phone.

“Hello”

“Hello Shannon, it’s your mom”

“Yeah…Hi.” I answered, stunned as to why she would be calling me now.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this…” my mom said, hysterically. “How are you?”

“I’m Good.”

“I love you and think about you every day. I was calling to see if we could maybe get together for lunch or something sometime. I could leave you my number so you can call me if you want to, and when you are ready we could do something together”.

“Um I’m not sure. I am leaving for college in a few days. Maybe you can give me your email?”

“I won’t be near a computer for a few days” she said, sounding disappointed.”But I will look forward to getting your message when I return”.

“I need to get settled in at my dorm, but once I’m settled in, I will email you.”

“Ok, I hope to hear from you soon baby.” And we hung up our phones.

I was angry with my grandma for handing me that phone, not really giving me a choice of talking to my mother or not. Looking back, I don’t regret talking to her. I hadn’t talked to her since I was 8 years old, and ten years after, I finally got to do that, because I was an adult and could make my own choices. At least, that’s what my grandparents always told me. That it was my choice to let my parents back into my life. Somehow though, I could feel their jealousy or bitterness toward her (my mom) as I continued to make contact with my mother after I left for college.

It will have been three years since I began talking to and letting my mom back into my life. We are making up for all those years that she wasn’t in my life, and wasn’t able to be there. Although I don’t need help growing up, I still need my mother. Although I don’t need help doing the things I once did when I was young, I still need her opinion and advice on matters of life. And now, I am able to talk to her about anything; she is there for me, and I never have to feel like I’m ever going to lose her again. We may have ten years to make up for, but we have a lifetime of memories to make.

My mom had changed. She was no longer the person she was all those years ago. It was a change for the better. She realized that she had to change, in order to get us (my sister and I) back in her life. There was a hole in her heart (and mine), but now, that hole is gone. She no longer had to prove to my grandparents that she was a mom who changed her life, to get her girls back. She didn’t have to prove to anyone, as far as that goes, that she made a difference in her life so that she could gain the everlasting friendships that reside between a mother and her daughters. I definitely wasn’t looking for proof that she had changed. I could see it, even between the emails and short visits. I didn’t need for her to prove herself or anything else to me. That wasn’t what I was looking for. The past is the past, and as I’ve told my grandparents many times before, “people can change. It may take awhile, but they can change.”

 

Shannon. Jerry is in the hospital. Steven beat him with a baseball bat and he is in ICU. Grandpa just found out. (Steven was my dad’s step son.)

Is he ok? What happened?

All I know is that he is in ICU. The Dr.’s don’t know if he will survive. He was hit really hard.

(My hands are shaking. I can’t think straight. That’s my dad. I haven’t talked to him in 6 years. )

Shannon... Are you ok? Are you going to the hospital? We are already on our way. I told grandpa I wanted to see him, and he said that it was my choice.

Ya. I think I’m going to go.

It was May 24, 2010. I was supposed to make dinner at my boyfriend’s house. But the texts from my sister caught me off guard. I hadn’t seen my dad since I was 14; it was Halloween, and we went trick or treating. We had talked briefly in times since that but the relationship between us, like it had been with my mom, was broken. If my dad were to die, I needed to make things better between us. I wasn’t going to let him down.  I needed him… I had to go see him. He needed me there.

I spent every day next to his side, as he lay there in the hospital. He looked so helpless. He was helpless. The first day or so was rough. He couldn’t talk, or move really. I still have the pictures saved on my phone of the damage that was done to his face. He wasn’t even recognizable. I remember just looking at him as he slept; and thinking to myself “that’s my dad… and I can’t even tell that it’s him.” I spent every moment I could with him. Most of the time, it seemed as if I was there by myself. Family and friends would come around for short visits. My sister and grandparents came by in the mornings.  But I made sure, that I was there in case he needed me, for anything.  

When he was moved out of ICU, I could tell he was getting better. He had fought it, and he was winning. He wasn’t in last place, even though he was broken, he made it through. Those days I spent in the hospital at my dad’s bedside, were life changing moments for me. Even though the circumstances of us getting back together were horrifying, from that moment, I had my dad back. And nothing was going to change that.

Having my dad back in my life means everything to me. I love to see how much he has changed, not only for me, but for himself. We are making up for lost times as well. I have my daddy back, and nobody is ever going to take him away from me again. Even though he is tired a lot, and is still recuperating from his injury, my dad is succeeding in being a dad. Today, and every day, I am proud of him for all that he has accomplished. He never gave up, even when he felt as if he was the one in last place, and for that I will forever be grateful.

I am so glad that I have my parents back in my life, its an amazing feeling! That was my Facebook status on February 8, 2011, to which I got many replies.

My sister replied: Me too!!!! I love my parentals hehe.

My mother replied: I love you both so much… I love all the things we do together and the closeness that we share... I am so blessed.

Lastly, my dad replied: and I am so glad that you and Natali are in my life!  Love you both more than words can ever say!

These statuses and comments may not have any significance to you, but believe me, throughout my life, living with my grandparents, and living up to their expectations, was a hard thing to do. Having people in my life, that love and care for me, and are proud of my accomplishments means more to me, than anything else in the world. I’ve worked hard and have dealt with a lot and I deserve recognition for sticking it out. Hearing the words “I love you” means a great deal to me, as my grandparents hardly ever say it. Hearing the words “I am proud of you” makes me only want to strive harder at the things that I accomplish. Success doesn’t have the same connotation to me, as it may to someone else. Success to me, is reaching out and striving for something, in which you accomplish; Whether it’s being a great daughter, a loving mom or dad, or even a little sister. Success to me, is believing that you can achieve anything, even when obstacles get put in your way. Success is having control over your life, doing what you want to do, in order to receive a better outcome in the future, and being happy with yourself for sticking it out- knowing that one day, you’re life will be so much better.

Stress Level just went down a tad.. only a tad.

So my english lit analysis professor just informed the class that we do not have to have a complete paper for her on friday, as long a we have at least 3 pages. 3 pages I can definately handle! We are doing a workshop that day, and I was so afraid I wasn't going to get the 6-7 pages done by Friday. And now I don't have to.. YAY!

So it's Wednesday... and I have bible study tonight, but I am not sure I will get to go. It really all depends on how much of my English 105 essay I get done. Its due on Friday, but tomorrow is going to be a pretty full day, so I am not sure how much I will get done tomorrow. You wanna know what I'm doing tomorrow, don't you??? Haha, too bad. You get to find out tomorrow night when I blog about it :-) Time to head to class. toodles.

UGH

Life is so stressful right now... It makes me sad. I have so much do this week. And last week was miserable as well... But as my boyfriend pointed out "That sounds like college" to him. I am so overwhelmed, at times I want to just give up, and hide under my blankets forever. Do you ever feel like that? I'm sure I am not the only one who feels this way. On a happy note, I just spent the entire day revising two essays, and I am finally DONE. However, I have one more essay to write by Friday, and I havent even started it yet... so basically my night of gruesome essay-writing is not over... Get back to you in a bit... BLEH!

OHMYGOODNESS. I woke up this morning, aroud 5 am. And could not go back to sleep. I had a major headache. And so  I woke up, and took a shower, and now I'm studying. My head hurts so bad, I cant think straight. It's just pounding so hard. I took some Tylenol/ Ibuprofen, but it's not helping. Good Morning anyways! Hope everyone has a fabulous day <3