she's not what you'd expect.  or maybe she is.  i suppose... i suppose you could say that.  she's not tall.  she's not short either.  she's...

umm...

when i was young, i used to play make believe.  steriotypical barbie and ken.  he was a prince.  she was a child.  a slave sometimes.  what did that mean?  i fantasize about being controlled, but is that what i really want?  he is weak though i want him to be strong.  i want him to be strong, but i pick the weak ones.  why?

she is not tall.  i suppose, being somewhat on the shorter side, i would rather not be towered over.  clothes matter more then the face.  anyone and everyone is beautiful.  it's true.  they all tell me, i have no taste in guys.  i like the short, the unattractive, the unpopular, the football players, the tall blond adonis' it's all the same to me.  i see within.  it sounds so stupid.  oh well.  but about me...

umm... i'm 17.  that's a good place to start.  i was born in a year when Ronald Regan was presedent.  it didn't seem important at the time.  i don't fit in.  but i can accept that.  i do fit in, just not into the normal place.  i no longer try to squeeze into the square shaped holes, or feel as though I should.  But I am happy with my circles.  They are hard to come by, but exist.

i don't know.  how do i explain myself?  i don't even know what i'm talking about.  if you saw me, you wouldn't see this.  i guess i'm pretty normal looking.  if you see me laughing and joking with my friends, you might think

that looks like a neat girl.  fun to be around.  bad teeth though.

if you saw me walking down a street, in a long grey coat with a black horn case at my side, it might be something totally different.  you might think

she looks like a bitch.  self centered, stuck up rich bitch.

i'd nrather not be either of these things.  the swiss might think i'm stupid but i'm not.  the americans might think i'm harmless, but i'm not.  i'm dangerous.  i'm not just saying that.  what do you do with someone who thinks, but isn't a genius?

the normal questions, not to be revealed to just anyone

birthdate: march 20, 1983

physical discription: on the short side, not skinny but suites her body well.  hair was red blond, now red black, blue grey eyes hidden behind thin rimmed granny glasses or thick black buddy holly frames.  freckles and oft redish (due to blush, sun burn or heat) very pale skin.  nails range from bitten to long and painted.  scabs are fairly common on back and face, if it's a bad week.  generally clear skin.  clothing varies from prep to semi goth to scuzzy.  

height: 157 cm

wieght: approx 126 lbs/57 kilos

favorite colours: black, off white, light blue (it compliments my eyes, as I'm told), gray

fav articles of clothing: my lenscrafters sunglasses, tie died tank top and the blue paper hat I got in germany.  long black and blue flowered dress my mom gave me.  torn up black goth skirt once part of concert band uniform.

parents: john and gaye van dyke, divorced

hometown: calistoga california

favorite movie: the matrix, star wars, playing by heart, mrs. brown, men in tights

favorite music: classical, blues, hard rock

languages: english, franch (a little), german (imperfect but understandable) swiss german (only able to understand it, but that's saying a lot!) and germish, a lovely mix of german and english featuring phrases such as 'you're ein arschloch' and 'i have it lieblings.'  i am not kidding, i actually use this with some exchange student friends.

possible futures: early tragic, forgettable death (hey, it's possible), billionare spenster with many cats, mother of 5 - 12 children (no more then 2 biological thank you), international globe trotter, first female hornist in the vienna philharmonica, head of the United Nations, secretary of state of the U.S. or possible some other country, i don't know yet, international terrorist.  you know how the old mcdonald's catchline goes.  hey, it could happen.

number of true loves (so far): 2-6 depending on how you count it

number of visible scars: 21

siblings: 1

what i really think of her: exactly what i say.  i say what i mean and i mean what i say

number of actual relationships: 2

time it is as i am typing: 18:05 on a monday evening.

time i have to get up tomorrow morning: 6:30

what i had for breakfast: sunday bread with peach jam.  orange juice.  strawberries and yogurt.

what i am wearing:  purple sarong i baught at a street fair in germany.  a black, threequarter GAP shirt my host parents brought back from america.  the granny glasses.

mood at the moment: relaxed.  i sip italian red wine and listen to chopan piano conchertos, with the window open to a early june thunderstorm.  schön...  i think about little.  perhaps the boyfriend, or whether i should go to the bathroom or not.  es ist scheiss egal.

 

~Redemption~