“ Today was a very hectic day. For starters, I agreed to baby-sit Bradford, this spoiled little brat that Debbie baby-sat. Actually, it was only one day. Anyway, I already knew how this kids worked, I have seen him in action at Debbie’s . It all started kind of smoothly, but after the first hour, talk about jungle life!! All the kid wanted me to do was to carry (all the time). I decided to straighten him out...so what I did was I ignored his yelling – boy was it hard – until he finally stopped. It went on like this for 9 hours, I couldn’t stand it. I’m supposed to baby-sit him tomorrow and the day after, but I told the lady that I couldn’t stand him anymore, and that I wouldn’t baby-sit him anymore. Of course she wasn’t very happy, but what was I supposed to do? “
Sometimes I was cruel, but only a bit. I really didn’t mean to be, sometimes what I felt at a given moment just came out, I didn’t see it as a bad thing. Most of the time, I was very quiet and reserved. This is one of those traits I still have. I was always very skeptic about taking, I prefer writing, but sometimes, if something really ticks me off, I might say a few words I regret later.
Debbie was our next door neighbor. She was British and lived with her husband and their two kids: Martin and Lucy, I still remember both of their pretty faces as if it was today. They were both very blond and had big blue eyes. They were beautiful children, and a great company. We became very close to this family almost from the first day they moved into the neighborhood. I still miss them a lot, but never heard from them since we left the U.S. to live in Portugal, the place where I have been living in since then.
The following pages of my diary have nothing relevant. But I just came to the part where my first true love story began. The first trace of this story is referred in a diary dated July.
Sometimes I was cruel, but only a bit. I really didn’t mean to be, sometimes what I felt at a given moment just came out, I didn’t see it as a bad thing. Most of the time, I was very quiet and reserved. This is one of those traits I still have. I was always very skeptic about taking, I prefer writing, but sometimes, if something really ticks me off, I might say a few words I regret later.
Debbie was our next door neighbor. She was British and lived with her husband and their two kids: Martin and Lucy, I still remember both of their pretty faces as if it was today. They were both very blond and had big blue eyes. They were beautiful children, and a great company. We became very close to this family almost from the first day they moved into the neighborhood. I still miss them a lot, but never heard from them since we left the U.S. to live in Portugal, the place where I have been living in since then.
The following pages of my diary have nothing relevant. But I just came to the part where my first true love story began. The first trace of this story is referred in a diary dated July.