WARNING

The following blog post may contain content that could be upsetting or disturbing to some people. I am warning you now, if you feel that you may be one of these people to not read this blog. Thanks.

IT STARTED OUT LIKE THIS ..
We were sitting at dinner. Cody, Terry, Sam, 2 female staff, and me. We were having a pretty civil discussion, but Cody got pissed off. You see it went not-so-civil when Sam, Terry, and I got annoyed with Cody for acting like he knew everything. He screamed "Shut the f*** up Terry" and totally lost it, assaulting us with insults. We all looked at eachother like, "Wow, this is saaaad," and the staff then stepped in. They asked Cody to leave too cool off, and when he got to the door, he "had his last word". One staff, starting to get fed up herself, got more firm.

She sat up and said, "Do I need to escort you out, or are you going to go on your own. Cody started punching at them! Both the staff. I don't know exactly what happened, but something in the past made Terry very protective of women. I know he and I share a lot of past experiences, but that's about it. He got up, knife in hand. He just stood there. I walked over, took the knife out of his hands, and led him to the other side of the room, where Sam was. I could actually feel how tence his back was; it was scary almost. I don't even know how I staid as calm as I did. Eventually Cody stormed out of the room.

It was over. It was then time to go back to the "main key" as we called it. That's when Sam, Terry, and I let of our own steam. We all said that if he so much as looked at a person wrong again he was getting jumped. The staff didn't look surprised or even disagreeing. You could tell they wanted to join in. But they couldn't because, surprise! They're staff. After a few swear words, we all stormed into our rooms.

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Idk why I remembered this. I just did. That was only a few months ago. Later Terry said, "Holly sh!t, Rebecca, how did you manage staying so calm?!?!" I really really don't know. But I'm damn glad I did.

Ce Finie!

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I know, I suck at singing. This is to my mamma. I love you mom.

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My dad and I had a nice weekend. First we went to Walmart where he gave me a nice surprise of $50.00. I was shocked. I bought .. wait .. rimmel london stay matte compact powder foundation, maybelline LLC metalic mauve lipstick, rimmel london colour rush duo eye shadow, cute artificial nails and a nail file, and some nice cute summery earings. Here's a pics of the makeup:







I'm sure you could care less though, right? Sooo .. after that we went to McDonalds (ha ha ha Mary!) where I had some fries. Then we went home and then swimming in Charleston Lake. It was a lot of fun. Then we went back home. But then I got really bored, so my dad let me use the Interactive TV playing Monopoly! I won. The stupid computer oponent traded me Boardwalk for St. Charles Place, and I already had Park Place!! Wtf? And then I went to bed, and then today we went to Tim Hortons to get a donut and an Iced Capucino. Yuuuum!!

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I also added some outlines to the downloads page. I am also in the middle of adding a PSDs page. It should be published later today. So CHECK BACK!!

Yours Truely,
Rebecca.

EDIT://

I have finished putting up the psds. Check it out!!

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Soo .. I'm 9 days late. Gee, if I wasn't a virgin, I'd think I was pregnant. I get my pieriod every 24-28th of the month, and my cycle is irregularly regular, so I should have got it on the 26th according to a calender I keep. And usually I'd be, like, phyced about this, like yaaaay I don't have my pieriod, but this is different. I'm still bloated and cramping and it's been like this for the full 9 days. I'm worried I have like a tampon up there or something. Sorry, I supose I'm getting a tad graphic (an understatment), I am just so annoyed.

So it's the 4th of July. You know what that means; Independence Day in America. I can see the fireworks in Watertown, New York from my house. That's because we live on the border. I can even hear them!! But I can't see them as well as I'd like to because of a huge tree in front of my window, but whatever. I would post a picture, but my mom said no because she's paranoid. I think it runs in the family. I have a [great]aunt that's got severe scytzofrenia. She would go into her work in like a space suit looking thing because she thought her work was trying to gas her with brainwashing gasses or something. Understandably the company bought her off. Scytzofrenia is really serious. All mental illness is. The thing is, though, that I don't think many people realise that. I myself have Depression (possibally a mild form of Bipolar to be exact), Post Traumatic Stress, and apparently Terets, which is terribally unlikely. Stupid doctor. Anyways ..

People often make jokes about mental illness, and I, although not easily offended, get offended by that. I am a previous cutter, and so it cuts my heart like the razors did my flesh to hear all the hurtful comments. I met a girl a few weeks ago that saw my scars and said, "Are you emo?" as if that was more than just a shallow steriotype. Emo stands for emotive hardcore, and so if you bite down the definition, I supose I WAS, but she ment emo as in steriotypically, not by defenition. And that hurts. I don't want to be labeled, especially for something I already regret beyond belief, something I want to forget. So the fact that this girl so casually said this, to be quite blunt, made me want to punch her face in.

I'm going to see my dad again tomorow. I talked to him about going to a waterpark or something. But honestly I know he'd just sit there and watch me pretend to have fun but be far from it because he's just sitting there. It seems like my parents couldn't care less that I'm alive, like I'm just a decoration they pretend to love and nurture to apeal to the public's eye. They act like I'm a human, but a human that they'd pass by the street and give a casual "hello" to, not a, "hello Rebecca, how was your day at school?" It drives me nuts. Most teenage girls wouldn't want their parents attention like I, and probably would envy me, but I never really got that. All my life I was trying for their aproval. Like I was screaming out "I'm here, I love you, why don't you love me?!?!" I remember hitting my head off the wall and coming crying to my mom when I was about 4 because she was so busy helping my stepsiblings with homework and never paid attention to me. That was comon too. And she'd just give me an ice pack or something and that'd be that.

I basically had to raise myself. Coming from a family with parents too busy and without enough time for me, I had no choice. Sure I had some good times, but usually I was on my own. I basically taught myself how to read. I was speaking at 8 months old. I didn't have a choice. It made me independent though. And for that I am greatful.

Well I'd best get some sleep.

Yours Truely,
Rebecca.

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I figured to make some money first off I'd post this tee hee. I was thinking I would post a few of my favorite songs. All of them are sad, and some may be with WITH MATURE CONTENT, so view with discression.










I dedicate this song to my mother. I love you mom. Oh god, I'm crying now. For some reason this song just brought back all the horrid memories more than usual. Maybe I should tell my story.

When I was 2 years old my mother married a man named Randy. He seemed real nice until it was love in writing. Then he turn ugly. His alcohaulism showed. He was drunk more often than he was sober. He smoked and drank away all the money we had. We were forced into a trailer park.

He chose to take his anger out on me. He was good at hiding it. He knew never to hit me in the face because that would be too obious. I mean, he was more subtle. His favorite place to hit me was the back of the head, knowing that nobody would be able to see the bruises. Other than that he'd kick me in the legs, grab my arms, and shove me.

When I was 6 (almost 7) he turned on my mother. She almost died. I didn't know what he was doing because I knew it from such a young age I didn't know other kids didn't go through that, that it wasn't normal. I now know.

PLEASE NOTE: I didn't change his name as I couldn't care less about his safety. Want his address too?

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