hey everyone.
I wanted to write a book about my life experiences, but I need feedback. Please give me honest feedback...were you bored while reading it? did it capture your attention? Its still a working progess, so dont mind the grammerical errors.

I NEED FEEDBACK!!!

Chapter One
The beginning of an idea

My name is Jennifer Dawn Gertrude Vidrih, and I am 20 years old. Two decades is a very long time for me. I have seen twenty years worth of stories, but this is my story.
I decided to write this book after reading a book called “The Last lecture” by Randy Pausch. One could say that he opened my eyes…a LOT. I also must add that I admire his bravery. He was dying of pancreatic cancer, and was living a wife, and three children on this world, not to mention so many others. To know the inevitable is coming and to still embrace life is amazing. I also admire his wife. Even though the times were tough, they stuck by each others sides. That, my friends, is true love. And after reading just half of the book, I began to think about myself, and what I had dreamed about as a kid. They were as follows:

-be an actress
-graduate at the top of my class
-win awards
-help animals in need
-have a family
-write a novel, and a children’s book.
-Be published
-To save a life
-To be remembered by many people.

And so I would begin to write.

Well, I was in quite a few school plays, but I was never the lead. I must say though, to have children recognize me in the local Wal-Mart for my acting is a great feeling. So, that’s a half-done dream because I am not going to give up on that yet. I did graduate, but not as the Valedictorian, my best friend was the class valedictorian, and he my prom date. I’ve won awards, my favorite being for acting. My mother would say that her favorite is my two math awards. I would always tell her “But I got them in the “dumb” math class”. Later, I soon realized that there is no such word, or thing as “dumb” and we will get into that a little more in a later chapter.

Here I am, twenty years old, and I have helped so many animals. I lived out of town, by an airport, where people would constantly drop off animals that they no longer wanted, or were too sick and couldn’t pay for the medical bills. So I would take them in, and help the animal get better. The biggest abandoned animal was a horse. I know what you must be thinking; how in could someone abandon a horse? I cannot answer that, but it is a pretty funny story. At first, I thought she was a female...and then my sister pointed “something” out to me. Whoops. But fortunately, the name Nelly could be used for either a male or female animal. I was in my glory with this horse. This horse was an angel with hooves. He had saved me from suicide. He never ran away. He would always stay around the house, and wait for me to come out. But I knew that we couldn’t keep a horse, so we found him a home with a man named Rocky. Rocky told me that I could visit Nelly any time I wanted. For that I was thankful. I did visit my Nelly once. It was so hard to leave him there, but it was best for him. He even had a “girlfriend”. I recognized Nelly instantly when I saw him. He had the beautiful face of a pony, and my hand fit in the diamond on his forehead like a glove. I must have hugged him for a good thirty minutes and cried. I still often think about my Nelly.

The most horrible find, was when my sister and I came upon a dog that someone shot in the head. They used a strong, orange plastic rope to tie it up to the tree. I recognize the rope, because I’ve seen it in my dad’s garage. What I did next, was something that moved people, and still comes up. I was about, 10 and I wrote a very heart-felt letter to the Editor in our town’s newspaper called the “Parklander”. And it was published. There is another dream. I have yet to have a family because I am only twenty years old, and I would like to experience things a little more before settling down. And I am fulfilling one dream right now, as I write. I’ve actually written several children’s books (none have been published, yet), one being called “Amanda the Monkey. It’s about my sister. No, she is not a monkey, but her nickname is “Monkey Manda” because of a face she does.
I don’t think I have saved a life, unless you count the many animals that have lived with me. This statement brings me to my family. I had a pretty good childhood. My parents divorced by the time I was in grade one, and that was hard. But everyone around me was very supportive of what I wanted to do. I have 3 older sisters, 2 older brothers, and one younger brother. One brother and sister are “step”, which means nothing to me, because I feel as if I’ve known my “step” sister forever.


Chapter 2
Family and friends


My grandparents are awesome, as well. My grandma Gertie is great, and still is. My Grandpa Don, is such a nice man. I love how he smells of Brandy and deodorant. It’s a smell that now comforts me. Those two always took me camping as a child, and spoiled me rotten! My Grandpa Henry and Grandma Mary are also great people. My Grandpa Henry is a great wood-worker! He made me a tiny coffin, with a cross on the lid for my most beloved Hamster (named Ickarus) when he died. It was prefect, and fit for a king. My grandma Mary always had gum, and that was great. She had the regular Juicy fruit gum, which came to be known by me as “grandma gum”.

Now, I guess I will explain my siblings. Their names are Michelle, Rob, Kirk, Brittany, Amanda, and Briant. The one I am most definitely closest to is Amanda. She is my best friend in so many ways. She would come down on the bus from Edmonton to Hinton so we could go to “punk shows” together. That is a 4 hour bus ride. But she would suck it up, and get down here so we could see our favorite band play. This band is also from Hinton, and I once had a crush on the lead singer. I’m pretty sure he knew it too. But back to my sister…her and I would do everything together, talk about anything, and were pretty much attached at the hip. Don’t get me wrong, I remember throwing a pink plastic Barbie couch at her and making her head “bounce” between the seats of our van a couple of times. But she is my sister, and not matter how mad I got at her, I could never stop loving her.

I get along with my entire web of siblings pretty well. There is an age difference of almost 10 years between my eldest sister and I, which could be pretty hard at times, and still is. We do not see eye to eye on a lot of issues. One thing we do agree on is her kids.
Their names are Taylor and Darion. They are a great joy in my life, and I love watching them grow a bit each day. Taylor is an actress. I am sure she gets that from me. Her blonde hair and blue eyes are stunningly gorgeous. I could only compare them to the sun, and the baby blue sky in the peak of the afternoon. Darion is a very tenacious girl. She questions everything, and expects NOTHING but the truth. She is definitely an “auntie’s girl”. Taylor and I are close as well, but she tends to lean towards her grandma more than Darion does. One thing I am so proud of is being able to say that I taught Taylor to sew, and I taught Darion to ride her “two-wheeler” bike.

My mom and I have a very special bond. I know that all parent-children relationships are deemed special. But my mother and I have come to a very certain and particular understanding of each other. She has had three back surgeries; one to correct a bulged disc, one to remove the previously operated disc completely, and one to have a fusion done. None of them did her wonders. Many times I had to help her in and out of bed, the shower, get dressed, and even helping her master the stairs. In return, she takes care of me. She knows what to do when I have an “attack” of dizzy spells, or when to tell me to grow up. I cannot believe that she puts up with my “animal rehabilitation” efforts.

We have had 15 different animals all at once, living in our house. My two hamsters were a surprise on her. I was given them by a very dear teacher in my old school. He said I could have them if I wanted. I hastily said yes, before consulting my mom. She was okay with it, after about a month. We still had to break it to my step-dad. In the end, my two hamsters were finally “mine”. I named them Eva and Ickarus. My mom loves to spoil me. She says that I am in fact not spoiled at all, just well loved. She bought me my first designer purse. It was a large…no, HUGE pink Baby Phat purse. I wore it out.

My dad is a special man. His dad died when he was young from Oat-cell carcinoma, due to the fact that he was exposed to asbestos every day. His name was Tony Vidrih Before I get into my dad a bit, I will tell you the bit that I know about my late grandfather. He came from Slovenia with his cousin. The reason I bring up my grandfather, was because I knew nothing about him for a long time, and people don’t talk about him. I guess you could say that this is a small ode to his life. He was a very handsome man, with dark hair, and hazel eyes. I would have loved to meet him. My dad doesn’t like to bring him up. I can understand why. My dad looks like him, as do my aunts from my father’s side of the family.

How can I explain my father? He is a pusher, and always expected me to do my best, and nothing less. I owe him for a lot of great accomplishments. He is a very busy man. He worked at the local pulp mill for most of my life. He also D.J’s, and is a volunteer firefighter. I love knowing that my dad saves lives. I can remember hearing a story about him, and it is by far my favorite story of him. He saved a man at a local carnival. This man was having a seizure and my dad knew what to do! He gave the man his jacket, and lifted his head and was I ever proud. That was all my friends heard of for several weeks. I love how people compare me to my dad. The truth is that I am nothing like my dad because I just don’t think I have that much stamina. He is the apple of my eye, and the greatest man in my life. I feel sorry for my future husband because he has some great shoes to fill!

This leaves me to my friends. I wouldn’t say I was the “popular” girl in school. For many years, I was bullied to the point of me wanting to end my life (we will cover the rest of that later on). Grade 12 was the best year ever. There were four girls in my class. There was Sierra, Maria, Amy, and I. Sierra is this great person that I admire for so many reasons. She seems to have it “together”, and knows what she wants and who she is. I wish I were that lucky. Maria is this tiny little Filipino woman who has this great laugh. It’s so infectious, that you cannot help but laugh yourself. Amy is so tough. She always kind of scared me, because if she had something on her mind, you would know. She was so confident, and out-going, and that is what I loved most about her. The four of us were so different from each other. It was like a pillar of water, oil, vinegar, and me.

Chapter 3- Manda and I: A very special Bond

I have to put this in. This person is very dear to me, and she needed a chapter of her own, just to explain how much I love her.
My sister Amanda and I are very close. We are the couple on the phone at the end of a long conversation saying “you hang up” “no you hang up”.
If you have ever seen the movie Practical Magic with Sandra Bullock, you will understand my sister and me; except we are not “witches”. My mom probably would have liked to call us that a few times, because as kids we got into quite a bit of trouble. We would annoy our older siblings, dump our unwanted food onto our little brothers’ plate at dinner, and pick fights with the kids on our bus. Often we knew it would end badly, but I was bound determined to go where she went.

I wanted to be just like her, dress like her, walk like her, and have the same social group. She is, after all my hero. We are like two peas in a pod, my sister and I. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes we fight like crazy, and in the earlier year’s people probably often wondered why our mom didn’t send us to boot camp. But it never takes us more than a few days to become the best of friends again. Manda and I don’t have the same fathers. I have always felt that she was the stronger one, because she never met her real father. This woman that I speak of may be tiny in stature, but her bones are made of steel, and her skin is as thick as hide. She is not afraid to tell it like it is.

She and I are very different people. To name a few examples; she knows how to have fun and I don’t. She is a cat person, and I am more of a hamster person. I can remember my first hamster. Manda gave him to me. His name was Hammie. A lot of things in my life come from her, and not just material things. After a horrible experience at a house party with her friends, she was quite upset with me. But instead of losing her cool, she looked at me (I of course was crying my eyes out) and asked me if I had regretted anything I had done. I told her yes, because I hurt her, and she told me to never regret my decisions. I didn’t have sex with someone, if that is what you are thinking. But what I did was nonetheless immature. She has been there for me through it all. She has confided in me, as I have to her.
Not many people would dare to push me around. The few boys in grade school that did were sent crying by my sister. She even kicked the out of the one boy because he called me a cow. I was bullied so badly in school I wanted to die. I even had a hate letter written about me, and this was in grade 6. People wrote things above a drawn picture of me, one of them saying that I was a 2-cent hooker. These people were supposed to be my friends. When Amanda found out about the hate letter, these kids RAN. I know this is nothing to brag about, but I felt so much safer when she was around.


PLEASE give me honest feedback...I dont want to write a book that puts people to sleep!!!!