Why, hello there.

So my name is Megan. Not to say that anyone is listening or cares but for the slight chance that there is someone, there ya go. I guess I started this thing as sort of a public diary. I have 3 diaries, pages filled with memories. They are in bad condition though and I figure this will be easier to keep track of. I'm not so sure as to what exactly I will write about. But, believe me the way my life twists and turns, I'll have no problem hacking up loads bullshit for you to read about. Oh, perhaps that's something you should know...I curse, here and there. If you don't like it, read someone else's candy coated blog.

Originally I was born in California. I think that's where my heart will always belong. After 7 years of sweet, supreme, sunshine and fear of running into crime everywhere, my mother moved my sister and I up to Slowfax, Washington (Colfax, Washington). Population approximately 1,500. Tiny in comparison to my prior heavily populated city. We didn't have much of a choice because my mom was leaving my dad and her family was in Colfax. He was addicted to crack cocaine and lied constantly. It caused a huge strain on our relationship because he would write letters every once and awhile but it was nothing like a dad being there. Things changed because we got word that my father was in intensive care because he had been stabbed in a road rage incident. My mom flew down to take care of him despite their differences. In the 2 weeks that she was there they had solved their differences and my dad promised to join us in Washington once he was fully healed. My father moved up to reunite with my mother and there wasn't much job opportunity for a contractor. Thank God, because I was harassed intensely by the fellow students. Tall, gawky, crooked teeth and hand-me-down clothing. Total dork. Let's just say the normal, blonde, farmer's daughters didn't exactly accept me. Actually they did everything in their power to not make me feel welcome. They made fun of my appearance. If they saw me wearing something that they had given away to the local thrift store, I was unmercifully taunted. The boys weren't charming either, no surprise there. They threw rocks at me when I walked home from school. So saying I was thrilled when I found out we were moving would be a major understatement. We moved to a larger community Post Falls, Idaho. I had no problem at all making friends there. I was still in an "awkward" stage shall we say, but a dual income household meant NEW clothes. Our stay there was short lived though. We moved again 10 minutes away into a new house where my dad was going to base his business. Starting over hadn't become any easier for me. I went to 5th grade, and met an amazing best friend who had some similar life experiences that I had. Cecilia and I were tied at the hip, it was a wonderful year. I started middle school, saying goodbye to all the friends I had made that last year of elementary, including Sissy. The first 2 months of being at Woodland, I ate my lunch in the bathroom stall and then proceeded to read until the bell rang. Pathetic. I know. After pulling this routine for awhile a girl started to notice, she kind of took me under her wing and introduced me to the rest of her 'group'. I realized they were the wrong kind of group to be hanging out with, almost immeadiately. Some of them were sexually active. Some were experimenting with drinking and drugs at the tender age of 11. But, I was in no postion to pass up friends, so I maintained hanging out with them even though I never involved myself with any of their bad habits.