Melissa

(*Sniff*) So my friend Melissa, one of my BFFs, is moving to Bolivia! So I will make a point to say, Melissa, I will miss you, have fun in Bolivia, and DON’T FORGET ME!

Love Ya!

I got a letter back!

If you have been reading my blog for a while, you will have read the entry I did a long time ago. It was Bush. Asshole?

Well, in that entry, I wrote about writing a letter to President Bush. I personally, am a democratic, but think of Bush as another human being. So, I got a letter back and a picture of Bush! Here is what the letter said:

Dear Audrey,

Thank you for writing. I always enjoy hearing from young Americans. (What if I’m not american?)

During this important time in our history, you can help America by setting high goals, working hard in school, and helping in your community. Our country needs your idelism, hope, and energy.

I also encourage you to stive to learn something new every day. You can read more about issues that intrest you, current events, and history of our country by visiting your library or by logging onto www.whitehousekids.gov and www.whitehouse.gov. By understaning the events of today and learning about our past, you can become a responsible citizen and make the world a better place.

Mrs. Bush and I send our best wishes for your success.

(Then there was a signiture and print underneath)

Very encouraging letter!

I know, I know, you want me to tell you what I wrote in the letter to him. Truth is, I don’t remember myself! All I know is that I talked about myself a bit, asked a couple of questions, (Not expecting them to be answered) but an encouraging letter is always nice!

Well, I hung the letter on my wall, The picture was to much, I couldn’t put a picture of Gerorge Bush on my wall, I think he is a nice guy, but a picture on my wall is going to far.

Now… What to do with the picture…

Dance

So I do a kind of dance called Modern Dance, and I have been doing it since I was five or six years old. Now, I am in the preformance group which is the highest you can go in Judith Komoroske’s Class. It’s a wonderful class, on the first day, I learned something intresting.

Ever noticed that wall you put up when your the center of attention? Like your not being yourself, you know? We have all felt that, like, we need to be someone we’re not to have friends!

During dance, while the music was going, Judith told the class to stop and go to the back of the room and face her and the other teacher Elaina. We did, and she told us to walk toward her, then walk away, notice if we were looking down, if we were, to look up. She then asked if we felt her eyes on our back, and to notice the wall we had put up to try to block her, and to let it go, and continue dancing.

This, was the most fantastic thing I had ever felt! When I danced, I didn’t worry about what people thought of me, I knew everything was going to be fine in the end, and I felt that I could truly be myself! I have not felt that for a long time.

Afterwards we talked about it and Judith said something that I will always remember. “When you’re comfortable in your own skin, everything looks good on you.”

The Crucible

Well, our class is learning about The Witches of Salem. We did a couple of packets and worksheets, and are now reading The Crucible, By Arthur Miller. It is a play with a setting in 1692, when The Witches of Salem happened. About a few girls who mess with magic, and, when discovered, lie and say that they are being controlled by the devil, and say the names of people in the town, accusing them of being witches. The worsed part is that it all happened. Or at least the story did.

I like it so far, and I will see what happens next soon, I am about to start Act III.

Back

I’m back from camping! My second to last camping trip w/ my class! OMG!

Looking forward to wrote more!!!

Camping

I’m going camping for a week w/ my class in a few minutes! Love Ya All!

Comments

Wow! that’s a lot of cool comments! Thanks to all who are giving me comments! People, if you haven’t already checked thise out, do so! Thanks everybody!

Life.

Well, lifes normal. But dad keeps interogating me when I dont write 4 a while, so…

My Sister

Kathryn wants me to write an entry about her so here I go.

She is 5.7′ now, and she is taller then me and mom, and she is only 11! She plays piano and is a great singer!

Kathryn Loves to annoy me, but I love her anyway so thats a good thing. We have gotten each other out of a lot of trouble too!

Ok! I gotta go! Love Ya Kathryn!

A Story! Everybody Loves Stories!

I wrote this for a school asssinment, a short story assinment, it turned out well so I kept it.

Scarlet Fever is the most horrible disease in the world. Scarlet Fever is the reason I have a story.
My father, Julius Fangarie Wellington, was a great man, he never had much money, but he was the happiest man in the world. I never understood why, for we were very poor, with no family connections and no Tiffany.
My mother, Tiffany Jewel Wellington, died of Scarlet Fever. Her side of the family believed it was father’s fault that she died because he did not go near her till the doctor came. He had warned me against it. “If you go near your mother, you catch it, and then our whole family will have it.”
On father’s side of the family, there was a long chain of rich, proper, old fashioned, and as father said, “Stuck up” people.
Unlike the rest of his family, my father was like mother, very modern. My father always encouraged me to be myself.
My grandfather, Mortamus Wellington II., had two sons. Mortamus Wellington III. and my father. Since my father wasn’t very much like what the family wanted, my grandfather left everything to my uncle nothing to my father.
On dark stormy nights, after mother died, I would say, “If we were wealthier, everything would be easier!” But father always said, “We are wealthy Cappy, we have each other.” “But we are not as wealthy as Uncle Mortamus, are we?” I would ask. “He is one of the poorest men in the world.” My father would then hug me.
A fortnight before Christmas, my father got scarlet fever. Since my mother was dead, I was alone in the house. I knew what my father had said, not to go near someone with Scarlet fever unless you are a doctor. I called the doctor immediately. The doctor said he needed an adult present. He told me to call a family member. I picked up father’s phone book and dialed the only relative in there.
“Wellington’s residents, Mrs. Wellington speaking.” I rush of tears flooded into my eyes as I said, “Please! Please let me speak to your husband!” The woman on the other line dropped the phone and in just a couple of seconds it was picked up by a man. “Mr. Wellington here, please don’t bother me unless this is important.”
I practically jumped to the door when I heard the doorbell. Mr. Mortamus Wellington III. stepped into my home and walked silently to my father’s room, as if he had seen where it was before. A woman came in after him.
My father died on January 12th. In his will said that everything belonged to me. As for whom would take care of me, he had listed no one. Not a surprise, for no family was in touch with him. The adults who milled around me decided on Uncle Mortamus, for he was the only family my father had any information about.
My aunt stayed at the house with me while Uncle Mortamus went home to England to make arrangements. I was very surprised for I didn’t think he would help at all in the first place.
My aunt Mary and I boarded a boat, (She refused to fly) and we started our travel from France to where all my family lived, England.
The mansion that my Uncle lived in was about as big as the roller coaster in a small theme park in France.
I was escorted up to my room by my Uncle Mortamus himself. I had an extravagant room with a canapé bed and a make up table and an enormous armor, and on the bed was a small package.
The door closed behind me. I walked slowly around the room. Finally, I got the courage to open the package. Inside was a letter, and two silver lockets. One had a picture of my father inside, and the other with my uncle. The letter said:
Dear Cappalila, I am sorry about not writing to you for so long. How is your father? Julius and I used to get along so well, but after he married your mother, and my late father disgraced him for it, Julius believed I had something to do with it. Oh dear Cappalila, I have picked up this letter many times, I wonder how old you must be, for I can not remember the exact year which I came to see you last. You were maybe, oh, two months old? I don’t know. I wish to see you and your father again soon, if that is all right, for I have missed him terribly. Please ask your father, for he has my number.
Love, Uncle Mortamus

Tears had started to fall, and I lay on my new bed, and wept.
Uncle Mortamus was barley ever home, but my aunt Mary was always there, she took me into London to buy new clothes, she went to designer stores, and any other store I wanted, I ended up with so many clothes and things, it seemed like I was swimming in shopping bags.
But once I got home, and put my stuff away, my aunt took me out to find a piano teacher, so that I could continue with my piano. “But I don’t play piano,” I said, and my aunt Mary looked aghast. “But you said you could play an instrument!” she cried. “I play guitar.” I replied. She ended up giving me lessons in both.
I started school in a private school in a campus close to the Wellington mansion. I was well known when I got there. The other girls pointed and whispered. One girl was kicking a little girl that looked like she was maybe five. The other girl was about my age. Maybe thirteen, with no kind father to bring her up. I felt hot tears in my eyes and walked quickly to class, leaving the little five year old girl to herself.
When lunch came I walked into the cafeteria to find all the tables filled with girls, I would have to sit with someone. I walked forward slowly. I looked to the right and saw the little five year old running and crying and screaming help. No one deserves to be hurt. If you see someone in trouble Cappy, you must help. My father’s voice came to me as the bigger girl made a running jump, she was going to land on the five year old girl! I ran in and pushed the little girl out of the way and the big girl landed on the floor.
“What do you think your doing! Sara can’t have no one messing up Sara’s kills!” The lunch lady’s were gone, I wondered where they had gone. “It’s, I can not have anybody messing up my bullying.” I replied, with more bravery in my voice then I felt. Sara made punch at me, but I blocked it with a move my father taught me. Sara screamed. My fist had hit her so that it bounced back and hit herself in the nose, giving her a bloody nose.
The lunch ladies had come back and I was dragged to the principal’s office.
Later, Joseph, the butler, drove up in a car while I was in detention. he came into the classroom. “The master would like Miss Wellington home immediately,” he said. As I got into the car, I said “thanks for getting me out of detention Joseph.” Joseph looked over at me and said, “I didn’t get you out of detention for no reason.”
My aunt was lying in bed calling out, “No! I need water! Who will take care of Cappalila? Will you Mr. Wellington? Will you?” I knew that weepy voice and look in those eyes. Scarlet Fever had hit again.
I suddenly remembered Aunt Mary cleaning father’s room. She must have touched everything in that room!
Uncle Mortamus had a tearful expression, and held my aunt’s hand tightly. the doctor was near. I realized that he had given my uncle a rubber glove. That made me feel a little better about all this.
Aunt Mary was dead in three weeks. I stood with Uncle Mortamus and morned her death, then, my father’s. Then I mourned all the people who die of scarlet fever.
So I lived in that big house for the next five months, with everything I could ever want, but I was not happy, I was not satisfied. I had no one to talk to. Uncle Mortamus barley ever spoke to me.
One night, I woke a little hungry. I walked down to the kitchen and pulled out a bowl of Fruit Loops. I sat eating for a little while in the dark until uncle Mortamus walked in and opened a cubard. He rummaged around for a moment, then, not finding what he was looking for, turned around.
“Bughh!” He yelled with surprise. “Looking for these?” I said holding up the box of Fruit Loops. He took them and poured himself a bowl. “You eat them without milk? So do I!” I said, smiling. He smiled back. “Cappalila…” He started. “Please, call me Cappy,” I said. He blushed and said, “ I feel so terrible about not seeing you all these years I want to take you somewhere tomorrow, how about the park?” I smiled and said, “Yes, I would love to.” I thought of my father, A person who does not talk, may have a lot to say. The words came floating through my mind.
Fifteen years later, I walked down the isle to my groom, arm and arm with my Uncle Mortamus. He was smiling one of his huge proud smiles and as we got to the alter, he stopped and lifted my vale. I kissed him on both cheeks, and he walked to the side.
I could remember those first few months living in England after I had lost my father very well. How I had everything I could ever want, except a family, that was the same with Uncle Mortamus, until we found each other. I guess my father was right. Wealth does not bring happiness, but happiness, brings wealth.