I am going to try to elaborate on the 100 things about me. I will of course do this is several parts so I don't bore all of you.
I was blessed to be given the best parents (besides Eduardo's). My father a mixture of Slovak, Irish and other European descents and my mother full blooded Puerto Rican. My dad's side of the family was not happy with the mixed relationship. Needless to say they told my father he was going to have "black" children. I don't mean to offend anyone here, but I share this ignorance with you because it caused a great rift in the family relations. I also have to mention that my mother is the whitest Puerto Rican you have ever seen.
My parents marry, they go oversees (he is in the army), and well I was conceived. I was born white in color, imagine that, my mother comes back to the States when I am three months old, and lives with her in-laws until my father comes back home.
I am an only child for seven years then my brother is born. Not exactly planned, however as I listed as #3, I believe everything happens for a reason.
Our family practices the Catholic faith (I currently do not), I attended a parochial school, and I receive all of my sacraments. By attending a parochial school I was able to participate in many activities. I also was raised not only by my parents, but taught at school as well, the morals and values that I would need later in life.
I attend a public high school, a large school, and well I had some fun. (So good for those morals and values, huh?) I of course had to be part of that "in crowd", I hung out with upper classes, and well I attended many parties I probably do not remember. Let me mention only alcohol was consumed. I never took part of any illegal narcotics. In fact, I never remember them being around.
The eve of my 16th birthday, which was a Friday night, I am at a party. It is a pretty big party. A big enough party that the cops were called. Of course everyone takes off except for me who is too scared to jump off the 2nd floor deck onto the snow. There is probably a good twenty of us in the house, some hiding in places, others passed out. The police are giving breathalyzers and when they come to me I just say I had 1 wine cooler. Apparently that settled with them and I didn't have to blow. They still take me to the local jail and call my parents. By this time, it is my birthday when my parents pick me up. My father is furious, did I mention an alcoholic as well?
We get past that. I realize some things about the "in crowd". I am still able to chat with them in school, but I become more involved in youth group at church. I meet Number Twelve at a Diocesan retreat and we've remained in-touch ever since. Who knew when we were teens that in our thirties we would live in the same city and become more like family as our children adored one another.