A little back history:

I grew up in a small, stuck-up town in western Massachusetts. Well, I almost did. I didn’t quite make it because they threw me out when I was fifteen. On the streets? To a friend’s place? To a relative’s? Nope. Worse than that. Got sent to a funny farm and doped up like a guinea pig. Guess I was a bit too moody. My parents weren’t always very nice to me, you see. They were pretty domineering and sometimes downright cruel! Enough to make anyone depressed and a bundle of nerves. I even tried to kill myself, too! Cut my wrists and threw myself out a window and broke my upper arm in half – ouch! I don’t recommend it. Stay away from the window when life gets tough!

After I got out of the funny farm and a residential school that was more like a residential prison, I put up with my folks at their place for another year. My tyrant sister and her one-year-old daughter were there at the time, too. She moved back after spending some time down in Texas. As for the brother – we hadn’t spoken to him in some time because he was a jerk.

When I was twenty, I left my psychotic family and moved out on my own. After working as a housekeeper for over a year, I was out of work and on disability from 1986 – 1994. What did I do with my time? Oh, I spent a lot of it on the phone making prank phone calls and having to go to court for that. After about fifty traps I ended up on probation for a year. They made me see a therapist too, but by then I was used to those and had even come to look forward to gabbing with them. There’s nothing like knowing you can just sit and complain about life’s BS to someone who’s paid to listen to you and know they’re not going to complain that you talk too much!

My health problems consisted mainly of asthma and allergies, and I couldn’t quit smoking until 1997. I was born without one ear and deaf in it, too. In the 70s in Boston, I had surgery to build the outer ear. They did a lousy job.

In my early 20s, I was too nice, didn’t know how to say no, and settled for the wrong people, so I messed around with a couple of guys till I decided it was time to be a dedicated lesbian. After all, I always did have an attraction to women. Some of them, anyway.

By 1992, I had had it with the wet, cold New England weather, and its old, rundown buildings. My parents flew me out to Arizona where I stood with a friend till I got my own apartment and a job as a topless dancer. Two years later I was married and off of disability (so much for being a dedicated lesbian!). I married a really cool dude who’s quite different than me. We believe, unlike most people who tend to seek out their duplicates, that opposites are more fun. I had a feeling all along that I was sterile and time proved me right about that one. After bawling my eyes out over that for three or four years, I came to accept it, even appreciate the good in it (I certainly wouldn’t have the time to write this, and my story, if I had had a kid). I haven’t spoken to my parents in a few years now, because we just could never see eye to eye.

So now I live happily ever after in the desert, even if I still have to deal with life’s headaches. I collect dolls and rodents, love to read, work out and listen to music. I’ve been keeping a journal for almost fifteen years. I had braces to straighten out my teeth, and ear surgery, too. They dismantled the botched frame job they did in Boston, drilled an ear canal, and built an eardrum. Can’t hear much out of that ear, though.

I guess my writing this goes to show just how much I like to write since nothing I send you will ever get published. Anyhow, hope your life was better than mine!

That which you have read above is my joke of a bio (although everything I said is true) that the publishing agency wanted. I wrote it just for fun, though, and I don’t intend to send that, or my story, to any agency. Why send something I know is destined to get rejected? If Tom and Mary didn’t like the story very much, then a publishing agency would definitely reject it.

Later...

Tom said there were tons of lizards everywhere when he was out earlier. There’s another kind we’ve been seeing lately that’s not as big as the iguanas, but they’re still pretty big. They’re dark and fat and brave. Tom said he saw one whimpering like a dog and saw some screwing, too.