This is my personal page. It is just some personal information about myself. Chances are, you won't want to read this, so you can hit your browser's "back" button now to exit.
First some notes about "me".
I'm 39 years old. I'm "divorced" and have 2 wonderful kids. I have blonde hair, and brown eyes. I'm 5' 5" tall, and weigh in the mid-100 pounds. I'm "average" looking. My sister (who is adopted) is the beauty queen of the family, but I wouldn't consider myself an ogre. I love animals, especially horses. I do live on a small farm with lots of different animals.
It is hard for me to describe my own personality, but I'll try.
I'm fairly easy going. I try to "agree to dis-agree" with other people. I can be opinionated, but I try not to be "soap-boxy". I have some morals, and I try my best to stick to them. I believe in God and Jesus. I believe that Jesus is my savior, and died on the cross to save me. I would say that I'm caring. I don't have a LOT of friends, but the friends I do have are cherished. I am protective. If someone tries to hurt a friend of family memeber I will do anything in my power to protect them. I feel like I'm a strong person. I seem to be able to handle stress fairly well. I also find it hard to tolerate weak people, but then again, I also try to help them. I think I have an average I.Q., but little common sense. I tend to be rather blunt on opinions, but also try not to be offensive when handing out those opinions. I'm a "care-giver". If someone close to me is sick or ill or just needs someone, I'm there for them. I feel I have some artistic abilities. I like to draw and paint. I'm a sexual person. I like having sex and have never used it as "punishment". What I mean is that I never told my partner that he couldn't or wouldn't get "any" because I was mad at him. I don't feel that is fair. I wouldn't consider myself kinky, but I would say I'm adventuresome. I will try just about anything once. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty. I will repair the plumbing, the floors, the walls, or even the fence. I'm not afraid to try repairing anything, unless it is electrical. I am a handy-woman, of sorts, and will try to "help" anyway I can. I'm not afraid of power tools, I own an electric drill and circular saw. I don't mind mowing the grass as well. Well, as long as I can use my riding lawnmower. I DON'T like it when a man tells me what I CAN or CANNOT do. I can tell you, if a man does one of those things, chances are I will. I don't like being told "you should" or "shouldn't". Unless you have a good reason to tell me this, and haven't been able to convince me right away, DON'T keep telling me that. I'm open to suggestions, it is just that when I feel strongly about something it is VERY hard for me to be convinced differently. I am a Gemini. I will agree that I do tend to have "two" personalities at the same time. I can (not always, but can) run hot and cold in the blink of an eye. Those darn twins just don't know when to get along sometimes. I can be lazy sometimes. Sometimes I just wanna sit in the house and do absolutely NOTHING. I love the internet. I have made some great "net" friends that I care A LOT about. Some more than others, but I suppose that is how it is with all friends.
How friends might describe me? Well let me see....
Going by what I have been told I have been described as: friendly, willing to help people, out going, strong, fun, "handy", honest, "motherly", practical, and I know my way around horses (though I will add, I am NO professional).
How enemies might describe me? Sheesh, this is kinda hard really.
My ex used to say I was stupid, worthless, could/would never be loved by another man. I was a poor excuse for a mother, much less a wife. I am ugly, and I might as well hide under a rock for the rest of my life. I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag (he really said those words!) Basically, I was useless and a waste of oxygen.
Other "enemies" might say that I'm just a bitch.
This is just some personal notes that some might find interesting, maybe even helpful. But it is all about me. I will use no "original" names here, as that would be unfair. I will go by "QZ", my ex will go by "John", my daughter will go by "Jane", and my son will go by "Jack". I know that there will be one or two people out there that will know who the real people are, but they won't be telling.
My 2 kids are the most important thing in my life. They both love me dearly (as I do them). They both want a "new" dad. They want their mom to be happy, and not alone.
I suppose I should start more from the beginning.....
In 1988, I was home from college working as a waitress at a truck stop. I didn't need a lot of money, just enough to help mom out with the bills, and pay for my horses' room and board during the summer.
After a couple of months waitressing, I noticed a nice looking young man that kept sitting in my "sections". It didn't matter which section I was working at night, but when he came in, he made it a point to sit in my section so that I would have to wait on him.
One night I noticed that he was wearing a uniform that the mechanics at our truck stop wore. So I asked him if he was a mechanic (I know, real observent huh?). Anyway, he said yeah, and started chatting with me. So I said to him, "If your a mechanic, what is wrong with my car?". Of course he looked at me kinda funny, and said that he didn't know, he would have to look at it first. He told me that if I would bring it in for him to look at he would let me know what was going wrong.
So, when I got off of work that morning, I went home, got my car, and took it up to him to look at. I can't remember what it was that was wrong, but he fixed it. I asked him how much I owed him for looking at it, and he said, if you will cut my hair, that will be payment enough. I gave him directions to my house, and later that afternoon he showed up for me to cut his hair.
Well, one thing led to another, and we started seeing each other on a regular basis. I would go to his house after work, or before work to see him. There were days that he worked differnt hours than I did, so we had to set up appointments to see each other.
One night, he told me to meet him at his place at a certain time. I showed up, and he wasn't there. I had to work that night, so I waited for him until I had to leave so as not to be late for work. He showed up at my work about 5 hours after I had been there.
I could tell he had been drinking. And his eyes were bloodshot. I asked him if I was supposed to have met him earlier that night. Of course I acted "dumb", what else do you expect? He said, yeah, but he had decided to go out with some friends instead. Well, I forgave him, and didn't think anything about it.
After about 3 months, we managed to sleep together. Yeah, it was awkward, but it happened. After about 5 months of dating (and having sex on a daily basis) he asked me to move in with him. I finally agreed.
We lived together for about a year, and I got pregnant with our daughter. John would go out with his buddies straight from work. He wouldn't call me and let me know he was going, or where he was going. He just wouldn't show up. Forget having dinner on the table cuz you never knew if he would be there for it or not. Though that was one of his gripes, me not having dinner ready when he got home.
There was one night he came home drunk, I was already in bed, and he woke me up to fix him something to eat. I told him dinner was in the frige, and he could just heat it up in the microwave. BIG mistake! He not so nicely, grabbed my arm, jerked me out of bed, and threw me on the floor. When I sat up, he slapped me in the face, and told me I had BETTER go fix his dinner! So, I did. When he finally came in to eat, a half hour AFTER it was ready, he said it was cold, and threw the plate at me. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep. I had to clean up the mess, fix him another plate, and deliver it to him in bed, and when he was done, I cleaned the dishes and sat on the couch and finished my "pity party".
One night, he didn't get home from work until much later than he should have, and I asked him about it. He told me that I had no business asking him. It was his life he was living, and to leave him alone cuz he was drunk.
I called my mom, and told her I was going to come there to spend the night. Another BIG mistake! He went ballistic on me. He knocked me down some steps and poured a half a bag of pig food on my head as I was laying on the ground. Yelling and screaming at me like some kind of dog or something.
I sat on the couch in the living room crying, and waited for him to go to sleep. Once he was asleep, I went to my moms. She told me to leave him cuz he had no right to treat me that way. I told her no, that I didn't want to raise a baby without a dad, and I wasn't going to give the baby up for adoption. So I went home the next day.
I fed the horses, and the other animals, and cleaned house while he was at work. When he came home, he told me he was sorry, and wouldn't do it again. I believed him.
There was one time when I was around 6 months pregnant my horse cut his leg real badly. For some reason the vet put a cast on him after stiching up the cut. Well I wasn't working at the time (I was pregnant and I wasn't "allowed" to work). My horse got down one day, and couldn't get back up. His casted foot was under him, and he couldn't get a grip to get up. I called John at work, and told him about the horse. He told me it was my horse, therefore it was my problem. He didn't even try to help me get him up!
So, after a week of feeding my horse laying down, and making sure he drank, I just couldn't stand it any more. I went outside with a pair of scissors, a hacksaw and blades, and a bucket of water. I sat for over 8 hours and cut, sawed and soaked the fiberglass cast. I finally got it off and got him up on his feet again. He was so poor, and had "bed sores" all over his side. I doctored him, and did everything in my power to get him well. My beloved horse, that I had raised from a baby, died of a bone infection due to him being down so long and the bed sores being infected. John didn't care.
Well, I went thru several pushings and slaps, but nothing that I would have called "abuse" really. He degraded me a lot too.
Well, two weeks after having my daughter, my grandmother went home. Things had seemed fine. Then, one day, I was running out of formula for her, and I called him at work and told him he needed to bring some home when he got off of work. I called him at 2 pm. He got off of work at 3 pm. By 4, I wondered where he was. I called him at work again, but was told he left already. By 5, he still wasn't home. I called his work again. I was then told that he had left work with a friend of his. Well, to make a long story shorter, he had gone out drinking with his friend, while I sat at home with my screaming, hungry baby. I finally got ahold of him the next morning at work. He had been at his friends house all night. I had even called there, and his friend had told me that he hadn't seen him.
That was one of the bad times. The VERY first time he really punched me, my daughter was in my arms, and only about a month and a half old. His sister had come to visit. He decided to take his sister out on the town. I told him that my mom would baby sit for us so I could go too. He said no, cuz it was his sister, and he wanted to spend time with her. I said fine. I told him I was going to call my mom, and have her come pick me up so I wouldn't be alone. He told me that I BETTER be home when he got there. I told him I would try. Well that sent him over the edge, and he pushed me down while I was holding my daughter, and punched me in the mouth with his fist. Blood was everywhere. Talk about dizzy! It took me several minutes to get a grip on where I was. That scared me! I didn't know what to do, so I took my screaming daughter to her room, got her a change of clothes, and then bathed my blood off of her and dressed her. My ex and his sister left. I changed my clothes, and sat on the couch crying, wondering what I had done wrong.
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