| My shitted life: I was born in a small town of Mariupol in the Donetsk area if anybody would actually know. My father died in a car accident when I was 2 years old. And from that time the hate(more or less) of the two sides of my parents started. My dad's mom somehow blames my mom for the death of my father. But I still love my second grandma(that's the one from my dad's side). I'm the only thing left to her now. And I love being with her. She treats me so good that I feel like I'm in heaven. She is willing to give up anything for me. And one special thing that I actuallly thought of not too long ago is that I am actually the only person that she allows to sleep on my father's bed. I spend 6 years of my life there and then left to live in my mother's home town Odessa. A much bigger city. Beauty, culture, history and serenity belonged to that city full of life, love and kindness. It is often said that Odessa always smiles. It's is often known for the good comedians. I lived there for 3 years. I went to first grade there. Those are one of the best memories in my life. I was the coolest girl in school, I had the coolest guy in the school for a boyfriend and I still fancied him. I was loved by my teacher. A lot of guys liked me and I had so many friends(well I also have a lot of friends now too but Russians have a special way of sence and respect for a lot of peopel). After 3 years there , a maraculous thing happened to me in my life. And that thing is that I'm living here right now. How did I get here? Well, my grandma got married again(her first husband(my mommie's daddy) became reckless and a drunk. Like many men(notice I said many not ALL). They play all goody, goody before marriage and in the beggining and then they decide to just do what they want. So my grandma divorced him and lived much more happier without him.). Well, anyway, so she got married again to a really nice mad in Odessa and then his relatives in California send him a letter that they want him to come and live with them in America. But the guy was so in love with my grandma that when he came to her he got on his kneees and asked her to go with him. He said that if she will say no then he will rip up this letter and stay here with her. My granmda thought long about it and we all finally decided to go. When we went to Moscow for the documents we took the train. Which were old and stuffy. But since my 'grandpa' was old he had problems like and average person. We passed the test and got permit to go live in America, but when we were going back from a heaven's trip, my grandpa died in the train. Right in front of my eyes. We had to stop at some little countryside-like-town at the hospital there and there he was officially pronouced dead. We slept in the room that was provided for people that had to stay in the hospital for emergency. I was you could say scared to death of that place. I clearly remember how they put my grandpa on the floor of the doctor's room and he bend down and checked him and then looked at us and then walked out with my parents to tell them. I don't remember how I found out. For the rest of the days, I can't remember or probably just don't want to. When we finally got back to Odessa we shortly sold all our belongings that we didn't want to or couldn't bring to America with us. Because my grandpa died, his relatives decided they didn't want to take care of us so they handed us over to Nayana. The organization that help newcomer immigrants like we were then. They decided to send us to New York. And wow, I wonder sometimes, what would my life be like if I really was living in California right now? And finally we left in the summer of 1996. August 11. We arrived in New York on August 11. Nayana allowed us to stay in a hotel for 2 weeks and they are going to pay for our stay. While we were in the hotel we had to find a house or apartment or we would be out on the street. We found a 1 bedroom apartment in Bensonhurst. It's actually in the same house I am living in right now but only on the forth floor(now I'm in a 2 bedroom apartment). We lived there for like a year and a half and then an apartment Current: Well, let's start. I'm almost always depressed. Not many people know... maybe even no one. 'Cause lately I became much more closed up. My best friend is saying that I have trouble making friends which I just have to laugh at every time I hear her say that. Why? Becuase I have absolutely no problem. I make new friends hourly if yoiu may. She just doesn't know it. Just becuase I hate a few people and don't feel like making friends with annoying and boring people she says I have problems. It's only a few people, calm down. I just don't want to waste my time in life on blant and vacuos people. I have much more cool and very interesting, intelligent people to be with rather then them. To her views, everybody has to be like her. Yes, if you are reading this, then you could finally read what I really think. You critisize everything too much and don't keep it in yourself. That's one thing that I don't like about people, is when they can't keep rude comments in themselfs and have to share it with almost everyone. That's just plain sad. ...I'll finish my huge story later. And edit it up a bit more. Add things, whatever. |