To you

Dear Ryne,
Have you ever missed someone so much you cried every night, asking your ever-so-absent “god” why-oh-why he would take this precious person away from you? It was as if “god” was cutting out a part of me and leaving my wounds bloody and infected.
That's how it felt when my dad moved away.
I don't remember how long he was gone, and I don't remember why he left, I just remember the fact that he was not present in my life for a seemingly long period of time.
AND I HATED HIM FOR IT. He left me. Me. Amber. His little girl. His angel. His baby. He left me with my mom and my grandparents. Like he didn't care for me. Like he didn't love me. He just packed his bags and left, with no regards to how I felt about it. Without anything. He just left, and my mom was glad. I hated her for being glad. I wanted to scream and yell at her asking “Why did you just let him leave me alone?!?!” I felt like I had no one. I felt like I could trust no one. Without my dad my whole world was crumbling down, falling apart, the pages of my life being ripped and burned to ashes, and stomped on, and consumed, and thrown up again. I felt my world spinning. And I couldn't do anything. I just cried and wished he would have taken him with me, wish he could whisk me away from the torment my life had become without him.
But at the same time I didn't.
After all, he left me. But even though I felt like I resented him, I didn't. I questioned his love for me, but I didn't hate him. After all, he was my father, and I knew my dad, and he didn't do things for no apparent reason. There was something behind his whole situation, why he left me, and even though I didn't know the reason at the time, I already suspected my mom was the reason. And from there, my resentment for my mom began.

Since Dad left and Mom had no back-up plan, really, we moved in with my grandparents who I call Nana and Papa. They live in South Whittier, near Ceres Elementary School, the school I attended from kindergarten to fifth grade.
The only significant event that ever really happened in Elementary school was in first grade, the day I met Arturo Quintanilla. I hung out with a group of guys basically, and one other girl who was just like me, accept taller, named Danielle. We always played on the jungle gym and pretended to be super hero's, cowboys, spacemen, and other various characters. We were also in the same class, Mrs. Scott's class. One day Mrs. Scott announced that we had a new student named Arturo Quintanilla. I was the only student who had an empty desk next to me, so naturally he sat next to me, and naturally, Mrs. Scott said that it was my job to make sure Arturo was to get well acquainted with other students and that I teach him how to behave, and on top of all of that, I had to show him where to go for lunch and how to line up for recess and other things. This was a big responsibility, and being the lazy student I was, I didn't like it. But I smiled and I was polite, and I taught him every necessary lesson to survive at Ceres Elementary School.
But I eventually grew on him. I found out he was obsessed with Pokemon like I was, he collected cards like I did, he liked reading like I did, he played the same kinds of adventure games with his friends from his old school like I did with my friends at this school. I was so amazed that someone had all of these similar qualities that, naturally, he became my best friend. We went everywhere together, did everything together, until the teasing started.
“Arturo and Amber sitting in a tree, K-I-S-SI-N-G!” Kids would shout when they saw us. Surprisingly Arturo ignored people promptly, and nothing changed in our relationship. I was so confused, I thought I would lose him to his other guy friends and he would just ignore me, but he didn't. He didn't care that we were being teased. It was just Arturo and Amber against the world of six-year-old brats, side-by-side in our Pokemon-loving splendor.
And our friendship grew from there. The next year he was put in a different class, but our friendship still thrived. Then in third grade we were put in the same class and our friendship strengthened. Then we were in the same class in fourth grade, and by then I was thinking that we were always going to be friends until, one day, in the middle of the school year, he told me “I'm moving after this summer.”
I can't tell you how long I cried. My Arturo, my bestest friend ever, was moving away. Just like my dad. But Arturo cried right along with me. He didn't want to move. He argued with his mom for days, telling her he can't move because we were both supposed to go to Granada Middle School together and then Cal Hi. His mom, unfortunately took him away still, all the way to Texas, and our friendship was severed.
The last memento I have from him, in my fourth grade yearbook, is an insult, followed with a 'just kidding'. That made my year. Then he moved, and I haven't seen him since.
So, you see, Ryne, Arturo was my best friend until you strolled along. I haven't had a best friend since fourth grade. I was so afraid they would leave me high and dry, so to speak, without a backwards glance. You waltzed into my life though, your knowledge of video games and your lack of knowledge about music drew me in. I trust you. I know you. And I know you won't leave me high and dry, because, well, your not a fourth grader, and you just aren't that kind of guy.

After that I got new friends, I sulked over Arturo, I ate, I drank, I slept, I played. Then my dad came back into my life. He rented an apartment by the Jack-In-The-Box on the corner of Telegraph and Lefingwell. To be closer to me, I suppose. He worked at Suzuki. Every Wednesday we would go to La Mirada Park and play tennis, or roller blade, or do something fun.
Then Mom informed me that her, Dad, and I would be moving to an apartment in La Habra. I was so excited! I would be able to see my dad every day! I wouldn't have to worry about losing him because he would always be there with me.
So we lived in those apartments for about a year or so. I got my own PC, a huge, ugly one with OS Windows 95. At the time it was the best thing ever. This is where my internet addiction started. I looked at all kinds of things, but I mainly listened to music. I was into all sorts of generes of music, especially Hilary Duff. Then I find out Mom is pregnant. At first I was excited, then I was a little perplexed that I would be acquiring a sibling at the age of nine. It was strange, but I was still excited.
So my brother, Adam, is born. Everyone is so excited. I remember the first time I changed his diaper, I undid the sticky little tabs, and doing! My little baby brother has a boner. I panicked and yelled “Mom!” Mom came rushing in and saw me, wide-eyed and afraid, and then she glanced down at my brother, little penis sticking up. She laughed and told me that to go in the other room as she changed his diaper.
Then the apartment buildings we lived in burned to a crisp. I remember the night that happened, too. My mom and dad freaked out. My dad yelled at me to get up and to bring my blanket. I grabbed my Beanie Baby cat, Nip, instead, and we ran outside of the apartments. My mom was holding Adam, and she was crying. I looked at the building in horror as the firefighters pulled up and started doing whatever they needed to do. Mom, Adam, and I drove to Nana and Papa's. Dad wasn't allowed there, so I don't know where he went.
Later we were told that the apartment above ours is where the fire started. Something about a fan, I don't really know the details. But it messed with some pipes so all of the apartments on the ground floor were flooded, including ours. We packed all of our things and moved back in with Nana and Papa.
A few months later my mom told me that she was pregnant again. This time, with a girl. I was so shocked and confused, because I thought my mom got surgery to “tie her tubes” I heard time and time again. Turns out she didn't. Dad was pissed, but he got over it.
On January 8th, 2003, my little sister, who I got to name Emily, was born. Mom wouldn't let me name her Autumn so I chose a simple, yet sweet, sounding name. Emily fit that category.
After that life was a fog. Adam and Emily grew up. I grew up. Mom didn't grow up, Dad was staying with my grandma. It was all good until Nana and Papa threw us out.
My mom and dad weren't together. They never got re-married, yet they were still divorced. They had their problems, whatever. But Adam and Emily were often pawned off on my Nana and Papa because Mom couldn't afford Day Care and Dad was too busy working. Then Adam and Emily became “problem children,” according to Nana and Papa, and sure enough, yeah, they were, but they blamed it on my dad, who rarely saw them. I was always defensive when it came to my dad so I argued with Nana and Papa all of the time, because they always told my mom, and pretty much everyone on that side of the family that my dad was a bad person and that he was a bad father. Blah, blah, blah. None of this was true! Dad always cared about us, and he always told the truth to his kids, and yes, he went away when I was little, but it was my mom's fault that he did. But no one ever listened to me. I was only ten years old, I didn't know the facts. (However, I did know the facts, just not as in-depth as I know them now.) My dad relented Nana and Papa's lies with the fact that he wasn't allowed to raise his own children, Nana and Papa did, so they must have learned to behave they way they were behaving from Nana and Papa, not him. Eventually my mom took his side resulting in Nana and Papa throwing us out, and we all moved in together, again, except this time we moved into a house (where I currently live). Being mixed in with this stuff was heavy, but things got better. Mom wanted to be close to Nana and Papa, Dad hated this idea, but since my mom was buying the house, he would have to deal with whatever decision she made. She decided to move into this okay-looking townhouse in a gated community. Dad hated this house. He wanted us to have our own yard, he wanted us to have our own private little house, surrounded by a fence. But in order to be close to Whittier, and still have a house she could afford, this would have to do.
The house was an okay house. The drama subsided. Everything was great. I was dealing with not being the only child, or the baby of my extended family. Now I was the first born child, and in a way, a surrogate mother, if you will. Things were looking good.

Cheese.

Have you ever seen life through the lens of a camera? I haven't, but I wish I could. Maybe everything would be crystal clear for once. Yeah, sometimes things get out of focus, and there are weird settings that can be a huge nuisance, but its so easy to fix that you can't even stress over it. You just have to tap the capture button lightly to get everything back in focus or you can just turn the negative settings off that's making all of the colors abnormal. And if you find an odd setting, you could always just go with the flow and see how the picture turns out. If you don't like it, throw it out. There's a setting for everyone's taste.
Have you ever been in love? It's amazing, it really is. It's complicated, funny, daring, sweet, skeptical, the most heart breaking, love making, chance taking experience you will ever have. One minute you are saying 'I love you, baby' to that special someone, the next minute one of you makes a mistake and you see the ugly side of the other. But it isn't ugly, it's wonderful, and even though you are either extremely annoyed, tremendously jealous, or irrecoverably pissed off, you always smile in the end. Always. It's truly beautiful.
Have you ever been on a roller coaster? I used to hate them. Now I love them. Well, some of them. Some roller coasters I will never touch. But every other one, watch out. Standing in the hot sun with a bunch of strangers for an hour plus is totally worth it. When you get on that roller coaster, your heart starts beating fast, anticipating the moment you launch to an exhilarating experience not of this world. Oh, but it is of this world, and screaming your head off while your stomach jumps up into your throat and your heart skips a few beats is what it's all about. Those who are squeamish from roller coasters, I have much sympathy for you. Those who share my true wonder and enjoyment, you are truly awesome.
Have you ever been to another country? I have, once, when I was nine. No where special though, just Mexico. We went camping. I remember sleeping in the car, then playing on a playground, the golden ball in the sky burning through my skin. The best part of that trip would have to be the night swimming, though. I got a little green bathing suit that was sparkly all over and me and my mom went night swimming with our cousins. The pool was warm and it had lights. It was the best time I have ever had. But how do I wish I was older when this trip occurred! I wish I could remember the people! I wish I could remember the name of the camp! I wish I could still feel the warm sun on my are skin!. It was amazing. And I imagine the same experience for many others going to other countries. Seeing entirely different people in an entirely different place with entirely different customs. It must be mesmerizing. Yeah, sure, the locals would probably laugh and call me a tourist, but I don't even care. I would be so happy and willing to try to understand their ways that their profane nature would be muted by my overwhelming thirst for knowledge.
Have you ever seen The Reader? I'm not sure how the book is, but my very best friend informs me it is sensational. I'm not going to give away the story, but I feel for you, Michael Berg. The story made me laugh, made me angry, made me confused, made me cry, and it just made me realize that life is so fucked up, in a not-so-fucked up way.
And I just realized some things. Taking pictures is fun. Love is wonderful. Roller coasters are fantastic. Visiting other countries is life changing and movies like The Reader that give you a big smack to the forehead (complimented with the ever-so-humorous Homer Simpson DOH!), asking “What the heck were you thinking?” are to be treasured. However, I don't think I would ever want to see life through the lens of a camera. What would be the fun in that?

Vampires, blahh.

Just before sunset she awoke. The red-orange star still blazed like fire on her skin, but it was less painful, for you could see less than half barely ablaze on the horizon. She didn't yawn, nor rub her eyes. She just sat straight up and watched the suns last moments in the sky, or at least until it rose again. A playful smile danced along the edges of her lips as she stretched her arms over her head. Tonight would be a night for feasting, since she hadn't eaten in weeks. Marc was still fast asleep on the other side of the room, sitting in his chair. Her eyes steadily watched him breathing. His sleeping face was incredibly handsome. A lot more attractive than when he's yelling, She thought. She looked back at the horizon, sun no longer visible, the night air already starting to smell like young human flesh. The scent sifted through the air like smoke, and spread throughout the room until it filled both her and Marc's nostrils. A few seconds later Marc's eyelids flew open, eagerness filling them.
"Hungry?" She asked.

crazy bettcchh :)

okay, background notes:
my cousin broke up with this girl because she was so controlling and wanted to be with him 24/7 and always wanted to know where he was, what he was doing, and who he was with
it was getting on his nerves so he dumped her hard
and she STILL has tons of pictures of them on her profile
okay, heres my bulliten




-----
kayy. heres the story. i have a picture with my cousin and i on my profile and the caption says:

"my cousin and i (we were playing halo but he had to text his girlfriend)"

and my cousins ex girlfriend decided to comment saying "wow you guys look strange"

and i was like huh....and i said "thanks :) i know we do, but i still love that picuture. do you have a problem with me or something?"

and shes like "i think that caption is rude"

and i was like "oh sorry, i mean every five seconds we had to pause the game because he would have to text his NOW EX. it was really annoying at the time"
(but its not llike i said this in a caption...so yeah??)

and she says "So cuz he was txting his used to be girlfriend wat you don't fucken own him and u can't tell him wat he culd and culdnt do. "

i was like "im not trying to control him."

and five hours later i have a message from her on my cell (lol idk how she got my number....)
"dont fucken mess with me" she says

and i say "oh are you going to kick my ass or something? please, get a life."
ok now heres it in easier format to read (word for word)

her: no u i never did anything to u and u have to be a fucken bitch like that u need to get a life cuz i have one bitch

me: lol :). you're so funny. idk what your talking about but okay. whatever

her: just stay out of mine and kyles business between me and him and ur not in it so back off our business

me:how are you even offended by me? you have issues. serious ones

her:cuz u need to stay out of mine and kyles fucken business (now im thinking that she needs to learn how to spell...)

me:im not in it last time i checked. if my cousin wants to be with a psycho bitch thats fine wih me

her:im not a psyco bitch you dont even fucken know me dumbass

me:lol i dont have to know you to see that you are freaking out over a picture caption that says "my cousin and i (we were playing halo but he had to text his gf)

her:ya im the gf you are reffering to

me:yeah...and?

her:ya u need to stop saying shit

me: lol okay? how are you offended my me again? was my typing tone mean

her: ya it was hella mean

me:lol you're insane. i wasnt even trying to be mean but now i am. its just too hilarious to stop

her:u were always trying to be mean and guess what ur a waste of my time bye bitch

me: oh so now you can read minds. you know you're psycho when you say those sorts of things. bye crazy lady :)




i wonder if she'll text me back....

idk! do you guys think my caption is mean?! lol i just meant that we stopped and took that picture while he was texting his gf. do you not get that? lol

how interesting

my family is, and my families family who isnt related to me. and how random and spontaneous they are. and how i
ve never met certain people ever, and how they lead their own lives, and if you really think about it, you probably woulsd never im[pact them in the first place even if they met you like ten years ago because you are not that important. i thought i would just try and express that feeling that i feel right now because i cant exactly say it out loud. and and and and i almost came out to my family. :)
almost, not quite. I'm thinking about it, but i'm not sure. Maybe i will maybe i won't. its probahly the wrong thing to try asnd hide it from my family.

but who knows how they will react?! its all just guessing games from here on out.

and dammit i still have to read....


The Scarlet Letter and
On Writing