I know they say you should never start to tell your story to someone by starting off with a question but it just seems to help explain if I do. So here we go. Why exactly do people change for other people? I know a funny question but let me go back and tell you may story as if you were there. Believe me it's not 100% tragic or amusing but you may learn something... ~July 14th, 2008 "We are officially in Miami!" My dad exclaimed as we passed the ' Welcome to Miami ' sign posted to the left of the highway. I love how he seemed so excited on the outside but in reality, on the inside he was practically screaming at the top of his lungs "God I hate my father for dragging my family out here just because his 7th wife died!" I just rolled my eyes and put my hands up in fake excitment. "Yay...." came the tiny yet manly voice of my 17 year old brother, Tyler. I just chuckled as my mother looked back at us with her 'I know you're mad but could you try not to be such a brat about this?' face. Next was to come her stupid lecture on reacting to a situation accordingly was the key to getting through it blah blah blah. "Now, Tyler, Cleo, both of you need to get over this anger against the entire Miami idea. I know you liked Newport but come on this is Miami! Beaches, carnivals.." The rest I tuned out because she said my name. Oh yes I am the charming Cleo Cal, daughter of Jack Cal and Rose Cal and little sister to Tyler. I've lived in Newport, Texas for the last 15 years, basically all of my life. And now just because my grandfather is 'morning' over the death of his 300th wife, my life gets to be turned completly upside down, because he just can't live alone and he certaintly can't love again. I looked out the window of out Escallade to see palm tree after palm tree after palm tree. I am definately NEVER going to like those retched trees. After changing the song on my iPod to a One Direction song my dad turned into a HUGE beyond HUGE beach house about a block from the Ocean. Maybe Miami wouldn't be so bad after all.