I was born on April, 15th in 1986, at the Grace General Hospital in Winnipeg Manitoba. Although I only lived there until I was 14 months, before moving to Victoria, I was always happy with the fact that I was born elsewhere. My mom, along with most of her mother and father, and most of their family, were all from Winnipeg. My grandmother (my mom's mom) and her family was Ukranian, and my grandfather (my mom's dad) originated from Whales, so whatever thing-o-mojigger that might make them. I'm not sure about my father, I know he's french, and he and his family have lived in Quebec and Nova Scotia, among other places, but my mother was born and raised in Winnipeg. When she was around my age now, or younger, somthing happened in the family between my grandmother, and my Baba (her mom) that me, and most others in my family still aren't aware of. It resulted in my grandparents moving my mom and her brother to Victoria, where the kids of my grandma's dead brother lived. When my mom graduated, her and a friend moved straight back to Winnipeg. There, she met my dad and they got married. They moved back to Victoria again, but it only lasted about a year or so, so they moved back again. My mom then had me, and I lived with her and my dad, until they divorced (not sure how old I was), and I lived with my mom for a while in a tiny apartment in Winnipeg before moving back to Victoria once again. All through my childhood, I felt a sense of home in Winnipeg. With all of my family, and my father, still being there, I of course visited every year, somtimes twice a year, starting from the summer after I had moved. I knew all along that Winnipeg was my true home. Elementry school was a tough time for me. I changed schools in the third grade, and also moved, yet again. My mom, my moms boyfriend and I finally stayed put in a small but cute mobile home near my new school. I had moved around 9 times already in my 7 years of living. Seems like a lot, but I didn't know the difference, I was too young, and didn't know how to get attatched. Well, after about 3 years of living at the trailor, which we actually owned, I felt we were going to be staying there for quite a while, even after my mom and her boyfriend split, we still felt we'd be there for a long time, and we were. We lived there for 6 years, which is a very extremely long time for me. I learned how to get attatched, and just as I did, we had to move out. Not really the big suprise most people thought it would be for me. There was a lot of shock in there though, somewhere, but I couldn't find it because it was underneith the rest of my mixed emotions. I had spent a good portion of my life growing up in that trailor, I grew, learned and changed the most in that trailor. I had friends who lived in the park, ones I had known for half of my life by the time I moved, ones that I had gotten so used to just, walking over to their houses whenever I chose to, and going wherever with those people. My school friends were a bit of a struggle to keep steady. My best friend from 3rd grade moved away, and I was left alone. In the 4th grade I made a new group of about 4 friends that remained my best friends until grade 6, when "the group", who were, known as the popular ones, took me in. Its a long story about how I got there, but not so long of one about how I got out. In grade 6 and 7, it was fun and games. I was popular, it was a big deal, I was hanging with the cool kids, the top of the social chain. Although not everyone from the group liked me, a lot accepted me, very suprisingly, because I was nothing like them. I only wanted to hang out with them so that I would feel wanted, and cool, and fit in. I never actually did fit in though. And by the time I got to juniour high, I realized that. They slowly started to ignore me, and talk across me like I wasn't even there, and would never do anything social with me outside of school. I realized I was just another one of the "un-cool" kids that they had found cool for a while, and were finally ready to dump for some new ones just like me. A lot of people spend their whole high school years wanting to be cool, and trying to be in that one group of kids who is known as the "popular" group. Every grade has one of those groups, and on occasion, the grades join together. I'm not sure what or who it was who determined who was cool, and who wasn't. For all we know, the "nerds" could actually be a lot more cool then the "popular, cool" kids. And in my opinion, they are. Every person in every clique at my school is popular in a way. They have a lot of friends, just not anyone "cool." So what? They still have a lot of friends, so that makes them popular too. I plan on spending my teen years trying to not be sucked into their trap again. The majority of them are nice people, and don't set out to hurt anyone, but they end up doing so. I talk to some popular people, and am even friends with some, I have nothing against them, I just don't want to be them. I don't want to have to wear a certain type of clothing, a certain name brand, and like smoking pot to have my friends like me. My friends and I are all different, and none of us would not accept someone, or one another just for a certain preferance in cloths, or music. We're so open minded, its not even funny, and I'm proud to be friends with who I am friends with right now. We may tease eachother somtimes, but we accept eachother, and everyone else, for who we, and they all are. Discriminating against someone for their lifestyle, is just as bad as discriminating against someone for race, gender, sexuallity, age, weight, etc. And thats just plain old wrong.