Long Bio:
I guess this is where I should start telling you about myself. I'm 23 years old and I live in Daytona Beach, FL. I work for an answering service, and let me tell you something, you need to start being nicer to us operators. You haven't the slightest idea of the things we are responsible for -- including your life if you just so happen to be at the emergency room and the nurses need your doctor to get there asap! Well, this isn't a ranting page so I won't go on about that anymore. I guess I'll just start at the begining.
I was born in Perth Amboy hospital in New Jersey, but Middletown was my hometown. I didn't live there for long. My parents are from Uruguay and they decided to move back there when I was only 5 years old.
I didn't have a problem with language since I was taught both english and spanish at the same time. I made friends quickly and was sent to a private, british, roman catholic school in the city called St.Catherines. Most people would say that's a drag, but I wouldn't change any of it. I did a lot of things that I really loved there. I was on the gymnastics team, the hockey team, and chorus. Most people go to school for a couple of hours. I was there for 10 hours a day. Sometimes that included Saturdays.
When I wasn't in school I was either taking ballet lessons, piano or doing something productive with my time.
Mostly I hung out with my piano teacher. I loved talking with her because she never treated me as a child and she opened up my eyes to a lot of things that my parents would never have talked about. She had lived all over the world and always told me stories of her times in France, Germany or some other amazing place she'd visited or lived in. I really miss her and all this reminissing has reminded me to give her a call.
As for my brothers, only two of them moved back to Uruguay with us. The other two remained here in the US so I missed out on that, but we always kept in touch so when the years started flying by it didn't really bother me at all.
I was just about to turn 12 when my mother informed me we were coming back here and by that point I really didn't want to. I knew everyone in Uruguay. My friends and family were there. My school was there. My life was there.
Of course, who listens to you when you are twelve anyways?
We moved back to New Jersey and stayed with my brother Nelson, his wife Loraine and my baby nefew Michael. We were cramped but it was really good to see my older brothers again. I love kids so I was really entertained all of the time and I didn't really feel sad at all.
A few months went by and my parents decided that Florida would be a better place for us. So they loaded us all up into a mini van and drove us here -- dog came too! We stopped in Boynton Beach and lived in a hotel for a month while my father searched for a commercial property of some sort. He found nothing he liked so my mother suggested Daytona Beach. This is how we ended up here.
I wasn't happy about it at all. I felt that every time I started to get comfortable somewhere, they just yanked me out of there, but at the same time I was used to it since we constantly moved around like nomads. I don't resent them for it because I got to know a lot of people and places that way.
So Daytona Beach it was. We lived in a hotel for a month again while my father did the same thing. My mother got a job as a maid at the hotel across the street from the one we were staying in so that we could have some extra income and not spend everything we had in the savings account.
Finally my father found an apartment that would rent to us with 6 people and a dog without having to sign a lease, but it was in a terrible neighbourhood. I had never lived in such a terrible place before. Going from having everything you could ever think of, to having nothing is very strange when you're that young. Especially when you finally go to school and you're no longer the popular chick everyone wants to know.
School was also a shock for me. Kids where loud and yelled at their teachers, and OMG! Teachers SCREAMED in your face and were totally unfair. I was sent to the office for asking for a rubber -- you'd think an english teacher would have more sense! How could she not have realized I was asking for an erraser?
So this is where the change set it. I went from straight A's to straight FAILING EVERY CLASS. I HATED school so much that I would litterally raise hell in the morning before having to go there. Somehow I made it through the first two years and by the time I ended up in High School I felt like a normal person again. Well, as normal as I'll ever be. I just mean that I was finally comfortable in my own skin.
We only stayed in that terrible apartment for 2 months until my father purchased a house in a good neighbourhood in South Daytona. Nothing fancy, but after the dumps I'd been staying in for the previous 4 months it was the nicest house I'd ever seen! LOL!
We still live in that house now. It's strange though, because I always feel like it's time to move on. Maybe it was all that moving around as a kid that makes it feel strange when you've been somewhere for longer than 3 years.
When I turned 16 my parents got me a car. I was so happy. I thought everything was just perfect. I had a great boyfriend, a job, a high school diploma and I could go shopping once a week.
I started college when I was 16 as well. I was doing great at first. Had a 4.0 average and I was making a lot of money at the company I was working for. Then my so called 'great boyfriend' moved to NY without me. I became really depressed and litterally flunked out of school. I couldn't sit in class because it was too quiet and I would just keep thinking about him, so instead I would sit outside by the library and talk to people.
The upside to this is that it gave me the oportunity to meet my best friends. You know, the lifelong one's that will always be there, even if you all move away to parts unknown. I got through it all because of them.
I ended up getting married to one of my friends. We were great together at first but after we actually did the marriage thing we found that we just weren't meant to be together. We wanted many different things and there were many outside influences that sabotaged our plans. I guess it was too much of a strain on the relationship and we just grew apart.
After the divorce I picked up a lot of hobbies. One of them being writing, which was always a hobby but I went a bit further with it. I also started going to conventions and traveling a lot more often.
I remained single until November 5th of 2003 which is when I met Chris. The story is short and sweet but really we just fell in love and got married on March 19th, 2004. We then relocated to California to take care of my friend Katies baby boy while she was on deployment.
Things started to go very wrong then. At first I wasn't sure what was going on but Chris started to act strange. He wasn't sleeping very well and always seemed like he was nervous about something. I tried talking to him but he just wouldn't admit that anything was wrong.
I left it alone for a few weeks thinking it was just his way of adjusting to this new situation. Of course, things only started to get worse. He would get upset over everything and sometimes he would scream for no reason or just cry. I asked again, this time swearing I would do anything I could to help him but still he just wouldn't talk. Then he said it was because he missed his son, the one he had with Tara. Supposedly this girl went behind his back, had the baby and gave it away in an open adoption to a family in Texas and that he never had a say. He says he didn't sign anything.
Of course, I felt terrible about this. So I tried to help him find out more information about his baby. He called the mother and spoke with her family to get more info. They did say a lot of things. I was listening on the other line and found out that he had been given a choice before the baby was born to have a say but he didn't want anything to do with it or her at all.
So with that I figured he was regretting things now and still felt quite bad for him.