Sunday June 1st, 2003

I hate Sundays. Sundays mean that all of the foster kids are home, or are coming home from their weekend home visits. I hate it when everyone is here. Both of my foster moms, Bonnie and Marge are always stressed out when everyone is here. All they do is yell at people. I like it when it is just us here. Well, I guess its never really just us. After Ashley, Stephanie, and Shandelle go home for the weekend, it leaves me, Bonnie, Marge, and Emily. Emily is Marge's 4 year old daughter that she adopted from one of her previous foster girls. Emily is the spoiled, stuck up kind of girl. She drives me crazy. When ever I have to babysit, she never listens to me. When ever I tell her to do something she would always say how she did not have to listen to me and that her mommy lets her do what ever she wants. UGH! I don't know how to handle that crap yet. I have only been here for a little over a year, so I am not well adjusted to having a "sister" type figure in my life yet. Plus, I am only 14, I am not used to the whole babysitter role.

On a lighter note, my 16 year old brother Jason, who is my biological brother, moved in to my foster home! After I came here, he befriended Bonnie and they hit it off immediately. My biological mother did not like the fact that he was going to be living here. She hates Bonnie. I think it is because she is jealous that Bonnie takes better care of me than she did. She is a very childish woman. She claims that she wants to get me back, but she is simply showing no effort to the court. She was court ordered to attend parenting classes and anger management classes, but she never showed up to any of them. She doesn't think she did anything wrong, she thinks that the "system" screwed her over. Yeah, right! Like those bruises got on my body by themselves. She admitted to beating me that day at the police station, the day I got taken away. So why is she denying it now? I think its because her reputation has been tainted, since this whole situation did run in the newspaper. She knows she did wrong, but she likes to try to cover everything up.

Also, a good friend of mine, Dave, also moved in with us. He is one of Bonnie's old foster boys. I met him through my mom a few years ago. My mom was friends with his mom and we immediately became friends. He was just getting release from Bonnie's foster home when I met him. It is such a weird situation. Also, his brother, Eric, moved in as well. He was in a detention center for not going to school, or something like that. He had been doing weekend visits here at the foster home for some time now, just to see how the situation will work out. The court decided to release him from the detention center and place him here at Bonnie's permanently since his brother was going to be living here too. Eric is not a bad kid, I don't think the courts were right in placing him in a detention center. He just didn't go to school, that's all he did. He didn't need to be in placement, he just needed a swift kick in the ass if you ask me. He is a smart kid and he is full of potential, but he has no motivation. I think it is because of his weight problem. He is only 15 and weighs 310. He doesn't appear to have very much confidence in himself, but I will try to help him with that as much as possible.

Today, Bonnie and Marge opened up the pool. I helped them clean it out and put shock in it. I cannot wait till we are able to swim, but mostly I cannot wait until school is over. I hate the kids in my school. I go to Moria High. It is in the middle of a town where there are more cows than people. Its a nice town, but all of the kids are jerks. They look down on me because I am a foster kid. They think I am a problem child and that's what landed me in a foster home. Kids are so ignorant and quick to judge. Being in a foster home doesn't always mean that the kid is at fault. In my case, I was abused and when I try to tell my story to people who have the wrong idea, they think that I am a weirdo. One kid said to me, "Great, now he is going to go crazy and we will all end up like Columbine." All of his little cronies laughed and I just walked away. I realized that making any real friends was a lost cause. The funny thing was, I didn't seem to mind. I got enough love and friendship back at my new home. Plus, I enjoyed being alone. That was how I lived practically my whole life after Jason moved away to live with his dad. It was just me and my biological mom. She worked really late hours, so I would come home to an empty house. I loved being alone. It was my time to relax and enjoy my independence. I cooked for myself and I cleaned the house. I also did laundry all on my own. I had been doing that since I was seven or eight. I just loved my solitude and I loved doing things for myself. I guess I never really got out of the, "I do it myself!" stage.

School tomorrow should be interesting. We are winding down now. I cannot believe that I am almost done with 8th grade. Ninth grade should be interesting. The dances are so much better for freshman year. Our dances are only 7th-8th grade whereas the 9th-12th grades share the dance floor. The upperclassmen aren't allowed at our dances, and we are not allowed at theirs. I cannot wait to be closer to different people. Maybe I will get the courage to ask a girl to the dance. I have had my eye on this girl for some time now. The only problem is, she is dating a sports freak that everyone likes. I am dead to these people. I know that I don't have an ice cube's chance in hell with her, but for some reason I am still attracted to her. I have never felt this way about a girl before. Maybe its just puppy love as some people call it? I don't know. I have been wanting to say hi or something to her for a while. Maybe I will try to make a peep at her tomorrow. I say that I will try all the time, but when the moment comes and I see her, I completely freak and walk away very fast. I think what is stopping me is the fact that I am a little intimidated by her social status. I hate the fact that everyone is all about labeling people in this school. In my old school, it was not like this one bit. I was friends with everyone, and I had a lot of girlfriends too. I think I went through all of the girls in 6th grade. Then, I come here, and I am treated like an outcast. I know it is because I am in a foster home, that is the only think that I can think of that would justify why I am treated like I don't exist. I am a nice, normal kid. I don't understand. Oh, well.

I guess I will just hang back in the shadows until a true friendship opportunity shows itself...