A Friday night to remember.

This last Friday I got screwed. Big time. Here's what happened:

I had plans to hang out with my friend *George*. He had already told me I could stay the night because his mom usually didn't care but, they fell through (his mom said I couldn't stay that night because they had early plans in the morning). My phone was broken mind you, for some retarded reason it wouldn't charge, so I couldn't even look at contacts to call on it obviously cause the battery is dead. Anyway *George* texted his sis *Cindy* the bad news because my phone wouldn't recieve the message he assumed I wouldn't need a ride back to my house for some reason so he had already taken off to some far away bar. *Cindy* and I were hanging out with my cousin *Patty* who had planned to have a party while her parents were away for the night (she's underaged). *Cindy* had to go home because she was going to sneak out later to join the disasterous charade. Meanwhile *Patty* was sweet talking her mom to not come get the kids that she'd be fine blah blah etc etc. I kept telling her it was a bad idea, that the cops were gonna bust it or her mom was gonna find out. She kept shrugging me off saying that it wouldn't. I asked to use her phone and called the two friends' numbers that I had memorized. Neither answered. the only other number I had memorized was my mom's but *Patty* insisted that people were coming over and I couldn't call her. She refused to let me use the phone again. People started to arrive, i sat outside smoking completely stressed out trying to think of some way to get out of there. Too far to walk, and no one I knew nearby, I tried formulating some sort of escape plan. Unfortunately I couldn't come up with anything. Things got out of hand according to *Patty* she had only invited 20 people but close to 70 ended up showing up. The cops and *Patty's* mother arrived pounding on the door and with first instinct I took off with *Cindy* (who had just gotten there). We ran through neighbors yards to get to her house down the street. She snuck me into her house to have a place to stay. In the rushed exit I had left my three bags there (my purse, my makeup kit, overnight bag I had packed to stay with *George*). The next morning I snuck out of *Cindy's* place to go back to the house to retrieve my things. The back door was unlocked so I let myself in. I went to all 3 places in the house where my bags were left to find that none of them were there. Confused and frazzled not knowing what to do I sat there and began to cry. My work uniform, my ID, my over a $100 worth of makeup, GONE. Just like that. 20 minutes later *Patty's* mom dropped *Patty* and the rest of the siblings off so she could go to work and *Patty* could start her punishment (cleaning the whole house). I told *Patty* that I couldn't find my things and she informed me that out of sheer rage for the incident her mother had grabbed anything she could find. I waited til her mom got home, pitched my apology and plea to get my things back. She denied having anything, with a smug smile on her face, and blamed me fer the party because I was the oldest one there. I DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE! I DIDN'T PARTICIPATE IN ANYWAY. So now the entire family who has only heard bitch mega cunt *Patty's* mom's side of the story hates me and holds me responsible. Ugh I have the worst luck sometimes.

To add some imagery to your imagination.

As you read about my life and such I thought it would be neat to give you some imagery to paint a picture in your head of what the people look like. I may put a part 2 to this...

This is me. A total complete wreck. Catastrophe. Whirlwind of Crazy. Megan Disaster.

This is Cecilia. I met her in the 5th grade and we've lost contact loads of times but we're still great friends. I love her to death.

Pictured above is the prettiest little piece of ghetto you ever did see. Katrina Ann Bondra otherwise known as my Lafawnduh. I'm her Shanaynay just in case you were wondering.

Yeah. More to come...

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.