Well...

Don't have time for an update tonight but, Betty is pregnant. She's due May 23rd. More tomorrow.

Vickey

Options

Damien told his mom and Betty told hers. Her dad doesn't know yet. Betty and my mom are kinda close so Betty called Mom and they talked. Mom said that if Betty gives the baby up for adoption, the baby can go to Mom.  I've got about fifty billion questions but, none of them are really my concern. Stuff like who's gonna name the baby? What last name will it have? (Damien's, Betty's, or Mom's?) Will the baby know his/her mother is Betty? Will Damien know the baby? What will this baby call me? Legally, it'll be my half-sibling but, Betty and I have known for years that we'll be like aunts to each others children so will it be my little sibling or my neice or nephew? Obviously Samantha and Betty's baby would be raised as siblings. There's a lot of questions I have and none of them are really things that have to be thought of until some time down the road and certainly none of them really are my business. They're between Betty and Mom and Ray or whatever other couple she chooses to raise her child. Betty's not in favor of abortion and never has been. She also realizes that it would be nearly impossible to raise her baby herself and wants what is best for her child. Mind you, none of this is for sure. She still hasn't been to the doctor to confirm or deny her pregnancy. Thanks, y'all for listening to this. I'm gonna go repack my bag since I'm going to Lindz's tonight.

The Saga Continues...

I talked to Damien today about Betty. Mind you, it was on the bus so we were basically talking in code. But he asked if I still wanted to give him that speech and I told him no. It's as much Betty's fault as his. And if there are "reprocutions" (aka if she's preggers), he'd be getting a speech and much more from me. Betty came over after school. Well, around 7:30, she got here. And she took a test. And it had a bold line to show it was working... and a faint one that meant... she's pregnant. She's 15! I don't know what she's gonna do but, for one, she's gonna get a dr. to tell her if it's right or not. Then she's got three choices: keep it, abort it, or give it up for adoption. And I have no clue how to advise her. All I know is that my mom was 15 when she had my older brother. She had to give him up 6 months later when she couldn't keep up with school and take care of him. Then 1 1/2 after she gave him up, along I came. I just want what is best for Betty in the long run. What that is, God only knows. (And she doesn't know this last part but, I've known or at least highly suspected she was for a while. Ever since she said that her stomach was hard. Which, I believe, is how Bernadette found out about Pey.)

Daddy's Little Girl...

I was Daddy's Little Girl. Some part of me always will be. And part of me is returning there. I used to hear this song and want to barf because I "hate him so much". Now, I hear it and wish I were seven again and Daddy's Little Girl. I think it killed my parents when they went from Mommy and Daddy to Mom and Dad. Daddy changed slower though. Is it pride that's keeping me from how I (sometimes) want to act? To be sweet and innocent and Daddy's Little Girl? To call him "Daddy" instead of the "Father I whip out when I'm especially pissed? Damn pride.

I have a business call to make tomorrow (to my lawyer) so I need some rest. Good night, y'all.
Vickey

sex

I have a friend that might be pregnant. For the sake of this entry, I'm going to call her Betty. Her name is not Betty and I don't know anyone named Betty which makes this a perfect pseudo-name. So a few days ago Betty rode my bus because she didn't know what her bus number was. The bus was packed and I got on before her (she stopped to talk to a friend) so when she got on she had to sit on this guy's lap. We'll call this guy Damien because I don't know anyone named Damien and it's not his name so it makes a perfect pseudo-name. We both know Damien and he thinks of me as a little sister. Not so with Betty. He's got the hots for Betty and she knows it. Well, Betty decided to go hang out with Damien instead of coming to my house til her dad could pick her up. While they were hanging out, somehow they decided to have sex. So now Betty lost her virginity, might have STD's (Damien is sexually active and probably hasn't been tested), and there's a chance she might be pregnant. She has to get to a clinic to get tested for STD's and pregnancy and she wants me to go with her. Until then, she's worried out of her gourd and her parents think she was at my house and we went out walking and because her dad was gonna pick her up in a few minutes, I went home and she waited on one of the "main" intersections in the complex for him. (I'm going along with this story to protect her.) If it turns out that Betty is pregnant or she does have an STD, I don't know what I'm going to do. Hopefully, she's not and she doesn't but, what if always nags at the back of my head when I think about that. I started ragging on Damien and asked him "why" and he refused to talk about it on the bus. I totally respected him for that and I totally love him for it. Had he been totally willing to get into a discussion on the bus for all the world to hear, I'd have killed him. I've gotta go get ready for my eye doctor appointment now. Thanks for listening.

...

When I don't type these directly into here, I write them on paper and then type them up. I throw the papers on the ground and I pick them up when I'm all done and I burn them so Dad can't read them. Apparently, I missed one. I wrote an entry a while ago in my public journal called Fairy Tales and Happiness that I had written down then typed up. Dad was looking in his calendar and flipped to the back. I saw a sheet of paper that had my writing on it and asked him what it was. "Oh nothing." Yeah, right. So when he was out, I looked. I found my Christmas list and at first thought that was it. Then I remembered I saw the word "Mommy" written on it. So I looked about 2 seconds more and found it. My writing. The original copy of that entry. He hasn't approached me about it and I doubt he will. I haven't mentioned it to him and I won't. But I can't believe he took my writing after saying so many times that he doesn't read my journals, that he doesn't read those entries I throw on the ground. At least it was one of the ones that *didn't* deal with cutting. I know he knows but if he had found one of them, I'd just die.

Gotta go. The lights are flickering and it's thundering. Time for Gone With the Wind. Oh, and as I mentioned in most of my public journals, I will be gone until the 28th. See you when I get back. Love you!

Blame

I don't blame myself. As a matter of course, when it comes to things with my parents, I don't blame myself. When they got seperated (the last time because they kept us sheltered from the first few with excuses) and when they got divorced, they made sure to tell Joey and I that it wasn't our fault. That we didn't do anything wrong. And never once did it even cross my mind that I might be to blame. But this week, from yesterday after court to Thursday, I'm supposed to be at Mom's. Well, I told the law guardian I wanted to live with Dad and Mom got that fact out of me (I could see how much it hurt her and that killed me). So when Mom called and said that Ray has to go to Jersey for a gig and the ford broke (again), I couldn't help it. She told me that "this [had] nothing to do with what [I] told [my] law guardian". Didn't matter. She could have said that for eternity, sworn on the Holy Bible, but I wouldn't have believed it. It felt like it was because of what I said. It felt like it was my fault. I choked back my tears and finished the conversation. Then I had to make my face less I'm-trying-desperatly-not-to-cry to give the phone to Dad. That night, I finished my Godiva ice cream. I've been nursing that pint for over a month. A spoonful here, a spoonful there. I ate about 3/8 of the container that night. And still felt horrible. I know that it's probably not my fault but, it feels like it.