A little about me

An introduction, of sorts
What would you like to know? I suppose I should start with the basics. I was born November 18, 1972 in Oxnard, California. I am the oldest of seven children ranging from 25 to 4 years old. I am 5'4", have long curly dark hair, hazel green eyes, and a pale complexion. One of my favorite hobbies is cooking, so unfortunately, I'm not even close to a thin woman. Not that any one in my family is! I have a really wild sense of humor. People always wonder if I am being serious.

Past
My parents were divorced when I was two and a half years old, my mother was seven months pregnant with my younger sister at the time. We moved from Mississippi to California to live with my mother's parents. My mother has never re-married, but my father is on his third wife. I like her a lot, she isn't afraid to tell you just how she feels. When I was 15 I met a guy at a local dance, and we became an item. Eight months later I discovered I was pregnant. His parents told me to have it aborted, I told them they could rot in hell. When I was three months pregnant, he called me one day and said he wasn't ready to be a father. I informed him that I wasn't exactly ready to be a mother, but I didn't have much of a choice. I was angry and hurt, but I went on. My son, Andrew, was born August 15, 1989. And I have never once regretted my decision to keep my child. While I was pregnant, I ran into an old friend, and we got together. I married him when Andrew was 8 months old. We moved away, and began our lives as husband and wife. At first everything was great, then he became very possessive. I was no longer allowed to even go to the grocery store without him. Then he became abusive. He would come home every day, and beat me for any reason he could think of. (If a dirty glass was sitting in the sink, I needed to be "punished" for being lazy.) One night he sent me upstairs in our complex to get something from his mother. When I returned, I found that Andrew had thrown a ball and broken a picture on the wall. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, and covered in bruises. My husband had beaten him severly for breaking a piece of glass that might have cost ten dollars to replace. I had had enough, I snapped. I went to the kitchen, took the biggest knife I had, and proceeded to chase him around the apartment complex for the next two hours. I gave up, finally, and went back inside. Later, I pretended to go to sleep, and waited until he was asleep, then I tied him up in the sheet, and gave him a taste of his own medicine with a baseball bat. Even then, I didn't leave him. I don't really know why, but I stayed until I found that I was pregnant again. He told me to get rid of it, or he would. And strangely enough, I was three months pregnant when I left him. Something about the third month of pregnancy! I came back home, and gave birth to my daughter, Katherine, on October 30, 1991. I moved out again, and lived with friends for three years. Then I met another man. We lived together for another three years, until he started becoming possessive. I ran like a scared rabbit.

Present
I am now living back at home with my mother and sister. I'm currently looking for a job, I was taking care of my grandmother when I first moved back here, but she has passed on. I am also writing a book, which I hope to eventually finish and publish. I also enjoy writing poetry, reading, crochet, and obvoiusly animals. As of now, we have eleven cats, seven dogs, one hamster, one guinea pig, two parakeets, and two cockatiels. Needless to say, we are suckers for strays. I plan to go back to school, but I think it would help if I knew what I wanted to study.
Well, that's pretty much it. And I think that for a person who started out without a clue as to what to write, I've said a mouthful! I hope you have enjoyed my web page, and please don't forget to sign my guestbook! Thanks!

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Email: weaselbitesback@deathsdoor.com