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| A few days ago (or was it a few weeks?), I got an email from xanga, encrouraging me to come back on xanga. Looking back... My last post was in OCTOBER of... not 2007, but 2006! Time has been flying by so fast! I've been quite irresponsible with my xanga, I suppose. I only have a mere, what, 6 posts? Pathetic! And I started so long ago, too! Although, Miss Coppelia Tannenbaum was the one who dragged me into this, and she isn't updating much either. In fact, her last post was in October of 2006 as well. I admit, though, her site looks much cooler than mine. (And she's much cooler than me in person, I would say.) There are changes in all of our lives (and Xanga), obviously. Dyre's parents didn't get a divorce, but they did divide the house into two, with the help of some white masking tape. He still comes to the house often though--family issues, still, especially since his brother is hitting puberty too. But my parents are becoming suspicious... as... as... as... Fine, I'll say it: Dyre's my boyfriend. It's not like that's going to make that much of a difference to say the truth. My parents are a bit paranoid, though. It wouldn't surprise me if they start installing surveillance cameras. In which case, I would have to propose a move-out. (Is that right? "Move-out?" what I mean is that I would tell them that I'll move out of the house.) Coppelia, if you're reading this (if you, after an 1 1/2 hiatus frm xanga, decided to revive it) right at this momnt, I'd just like to say, SEE YOU IN 24 HOURS! Yay, this was fun. Coming back to xanga, I mean. Although, I don't know when's the next time I'll be back. | | |
| Dyre is sitting beside me attempting to read what I'm typing here right now. Wait, rewind. Why is Dyre at my house at this time, you ask?
Well, apparently, he had this huge fight four hours ago with his father about, of all things, soccer players. Or, I should say, it started because of a puny disagreement in their preferences. I won't go into details here, as I'm afraid I might embarrass Dyre. But then the fight got worse, and his father got extremely ... "heated," and started accusing Dyre of neglecting homework/housework and all that stuff. Which is when Dyre ran out of the house and which why a minute or two later, I found Dyre pounding on our door asking my mom if he could stay for the night. Now, at this point, I think I should mention that my parents are crazy about Dyre. They loved him like a son. I'm not sure it is a.) because Dyre has some family issues and is always at the doorway after a particularly bad fight (like the one today) since he was eight or b.) we've known him since he and I were three, so my parents think that there would be no harm in my spending time with him, unlike other boys. Either way, that's a bit of Dyre history. For the last three hours, we've been slaving over our homework, as we've decided to spend tomorrow having another movie marathon (yes, Coppelia--and Mike, both of you are invited!). The plus side in the homework swamp is that we had some of that mango sundae that my mom was so enthusiastic to try out. Here's to the first actual update on my life after the long creepy silence! | | |
| Xanga has changed so much since the last time I was on here! (which is a long time ago anyway). Sorry for the cruel absence; I've been busy... | | |
| ... I haven't posted for such a long time. Okay. I got through the "DEAD WEEK."
But then right after that, I was wisked off to... DENMARK.
Yes, all the way to Denmark.
My dad had decided that it would be a nice time to visit his college friend Mr. Rayner.
I spent my Christmas and New Year's in Denmark. Which is quite nice, by the way. But no internet access there, at least for me. Which means... no posting on Xanga's. And for that, I am very sorry, my dear Xangans.
Why is there no Internet access, you ask? Well, my sister Katie just happened to have to borrow my dad's laptop for her computer camp or whatever that is. Some kind of extreme geek camp, anyway. We WERE staying with the Rayner family (they have such a huge AND elegant house), but there were actually only two computers there (not counting Mr. Rayner's personal laptop) that are constantly hogged by two of the Rayner teenagers.
My mom and dad were very wrong about me getting along with the Mr. Rayner's five kids (including a pair of twins). They thought that just because we're all teenagers, we'll all get along. Very wrong.
Now, I would like to spend a long time talking about my time at Denmark, but I have to leave now because my dad really needs to use the family computer now (Katie is still at computer camp. She should be back soon). It would take a few parts to finish my Denmark tale, so call this post part one if you like.
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| I've been a busy bee this week. Or maybe I'm not actually that busy, but I'm just making everything all organzied and complicated. Not much good for me either, so why am I being so organized, anyway? I don't know. I never know the answer.
THE DYRE DYE DRAMA:
This is apparently, as far as I can tell, what happened. And I have to agree with you, Coppelia, that I don't get why Jessie actually likes that Jozef guy.
Okay, according to Dyre, Jozef thought Dyre was looking at Jessie (while he was actually looking for me--I don't know why, maybe to pounce on me). Honestly, though, Jozef is like way to sensitive or something. I mean, just for looking at his, well, girlfriend.
And beating up Dyre? That is just... just... just... (I don't know how to describe all these sudden emotions.) Really, beating up Dyre. I feel like punching him right now just because I'm typing this, but, of course, I can't because I'm nowhere near him right now. Thanks to Jozef's brother though. Cedric really is a whole mile nicer.
Anyway, here's something that people may find funny:
Teen Poverty in America
We just spent several hours observing teenagers hanging out at our local mall. We came to the conclusion many teenagers in America today are living in poverty. Most young men We observed didn't even own a belt; there was not one among the whole group.
But that wasn't the sad part. Many were wearing their daddy's jeans. Some jeans were so big and baggy they hung low on their hips, exposing their underwear. I know some must have been ashamed their daddy was short, because his jeans hardly went below their knees. They weren't even their daddies' good jeans, for most had holes ripped in the knees and a dirty look to them.
It grieved us, in a modern, affluent society like America, there are those who can't afford a decent pair of jeans. I was thinking about asking my church to start a jeans drive for "poor kids at the mall." Then on Christmas Eve, we could go Christmas caroling and distribute jeans to these poor teenagers.
But here is the saddest part...it was the girls they were hanging out with that disturbed us most. Never, in all of our lives, have we seen such poverty-stricken girls. These girls had the opposite problem of the guys. They all had to wear their little sister's clothes. Their jeans were about 5 sizes too small! I don't know how they could get them on, let alone button them up. Their jeans barely went over their hipbones. Most also had on their little sister's top; it hardly covered their midsections. Oh, they were trying to hold their heads up with pride, but it was a sad sight to see these almost grown women wearing children's clothes.
However, it was their underwear that bothered us most. They, like the boys, because of the improper fitting of their clothes, they had their underwear exposed. We had never seen anything like it. It looked like their underwear was only held together by a single piece of string.
We know it saddens your heart to receive this report on condition of our American teenagers. While we go to bed every night with a closets full of clothes nearby, there are millions of "mall girls" who barely have enough material to keep it together. We think their "poorness" is why these 2 groups gather at the mall; boys with their short daddies' ripped jeans, and girls wearing their younger sisters' clothes. The mall is one place where they can find acceptance. So, next time you are at the mall, doing your shopping , and you pass by some of these poor teenagers, would you say a prayer for them?
And one more thing.
Will you pray the guys' pants won't fall down, and the girls' strings won't break?
We thank you all,
Two Concerned Grandmothers | | |
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