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Here ill try to provide as much information as possible in order for you to get a picture of what she looks like. If there is anything you want to ask me feel free to pm me for any extra details you may need 3nodding
____Profile
Name: Meave
Nicknames: Eve, evee
Age 21
Gender: Female
Height: 5'2
Weight: 126lbs
Blood type: O+
Eye colour: Greyish, with long eyelashes
Hair colour: "Rich russet red" (Not entirely natrual but she never admits it)
Skin Color: Tanned
Distinguishing Marks: A scar on her abdomen just below the bellybutton from an operation to remove her apendix when she was a child. A tattoo of a butterfly which rests upon her ankle/.
Race: Human
Personality: Meave is allergic to commitment. Happy with her career, she breaks out in a rash whenever she passes a buggy. Most of the time she feel's like she's worked her way through all the available men in the city. And some of the unavailable, but she is neither stupid nor that self deluded to get herself involved in someone who is taken.
She only appears glamorous because of her red hair, and even that isnt, ahem, entirely natrual, although thats not something he makes a habit of telling people. She has even been known to adopt an Irish accent from time to time.
Loves: Her job, Attention, Her mum
Pet hates: Being ignored, People who overcomplicate things, Commitment
<img src="http://img92.exs.cx/img92/7537/untitled2jf.png" align=right border =0> If you really must have an avatar to base it off this is the closest i can find, however.. i would prefer if she didnt look entirely like a gaia avatar
General appearance Meave likes to take care of her appearance, she is toned and slim (but not too slim she likes to call it "just right" wink Her hair is a rich red colour and is straightened daily, it rests just below her shoulders, most days it is tied back with a simple hair slide with a few strands dangling down. Her clothes are plain but smart. She wears a simple black skirt, her legs clad in fishnet tights or sheer stockings, paired with a belt with silver buttons around it. Her top half is usually a white shirt with a few buttons undone to reveal a small amount of ample cleavage (not too much mind, she is well endowed.. but she doesnt flaunt it) Or if she's dressing down she'll wear a simple black t-shirt. A pair of square frames rest upon the bridge of her nose (mostly there for accesorizing, as she has good eyesight) Her shoes are plain black high heels.
___Story
This is the story as to how she gets pregnant (which will provide the background for me getting the appointment) It isnt entirely neccesary to read it, but it may give you some idea's
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{{ The story
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There are references to female menstruation so if you feel uncomfortable with it i suggest you skip this part</center>
Im not interested in babies, and im not interested in talking about babies. I could say they're not a part of my life, but unfortunately they have affected my life, as every time a friend rings me up to tell me excitedly she's pregnant, Im expected to jump up and down with joy, when in fact my heart plummets to the floor.
And another one crossed off the Christmas card list, for I know exactly what will happen. The more sensitive friends will carry on a normal conversation. we will talk about work, friends, life and men, although not necessarily in that order. I might as how they are feeling, and they will say fine, and that'll be that. The less sensitive will sit there all evening and presume I am desperate to hear about their scans. They will presume I am fascinated by tales of morning sickness, swollen feet, bladder problems. Banging on and on and on about babies and pregnancy, and nursery decoration, And ill be sitting there mentally checking off the minutes wondering how soon I can leave.
Although by that stage im not even sure I care.
However sensitive the friend, the final outcome is always the same. You send the obligatory card and flowers when the baby is born, and are then expected to pay a visit. You sit there bored to tears, as they cuddle a screaming infant, an try to look interested as you listen to them recounting their birth story for the hundredth time that week.
You go home filled with sadness, because however close you are, you know that?s another friend you wont be seeing any more. You wont have anything in common, since you are not interested in babies, and they are no longer interested in life.
I shudder even thinking about it.
My amateur psychologist friends (the ones without babies) claim im protecting myself from being hurt. I associate commitment, children, with my parents, and my parents with the pain I felt when my father walked out of my life never to return. They say i don?t want to get married or have children because im scared.
I say its because i have more important things to do.
And its not as if i had a horrible upbringing, terrible parents, and don?t want to inflict that on any children of mine. Sure, the first year was tough. My mother was, to put it mildly, devastated. Id bring her Ribena when she was crying, and curl up next to her on the sofa, stroking her hair because that was what she used to do to me when i was upset, and i didn?t know what else to do.
Eventually she cried less and less, and soon there was a series of friends passing in and out the door, none of whom was a permanent fixture in my life, but all of whom helped to keep a smile on my mothers face most of the time
'Not "uncles",' she'd say to me, when i questioned why friends of mine were allowed to call their mum's friends 'uncle', and why her friends were just Bob. Or Michael. Or Richard. I understand now, of course. She didn?t want to be married. She didn?t want commitment. Been there, done that, she'd laugh merrily. She wanted fun. She wanted to feel beautiful, and she wanted to be treated well. Naturally there was sex involved, but it was far more about the attention. And when she felt their attention waning, she'd move on.
The older i grew, the closer my mother and I became. Some said it was unhealthy, that their ought to be boundaries between a parent and child, but i loved the fact that i could call her Viv and she didn?t mind; that she'd borrow my ra-ra skirts and id borrow her jodhpurs; that when i decided to go on the pill at fifteen (not because i was actually doing anything, but because i was hopeful), the person who accompanied me to the family planning clinic was my mother.
I loved the fact that after our respective dates had gone home, be it that night or the morning after, we would sit together on the sofa recount every detail, giggle together, drink vodka an tonics when we were happy, and eat giant-sized fruit "n" nut when we were sad.
So maybe it wasn?t such as a surprise when years later, i had become my mother. Series of friends came and went. And i lived my life in the fast lane. Balancing men, work, family, friends on one hand. Its quite possible to say that i was unhappy, greatly so in fact. But i couldn?t help it, my mother's lifestyle had rubbed off on me and imposed itself. I tried to keep my men, and at first it was brilliant. I found myself beginning to think this is the one, the man i can settle down with and live in happily married bliss. But i just couldn?t do it, if i wasn?t the centre of their world. All eyes on me id find myself going into self destruct mode. And within a week he'd be out, and another guy would make his way into my life. I sometimes wonder if my mother can really truly be happy with this lifestyle. There are times when i think she ought to settle down, then maybe I?ll be able to. Because the older you get, the harder it is on your own, and because i think she deserves someone to look after to her. But she has her friends, her dog, and me of course. Which is why she's coming up to see me this weekend.
"So come on cagey" She's had the guided tour of my flat (Which took all of five minutes i may add), and has now whisked me up to town to do some shopping.
"Come on what?"
"Ive seen the flat, Ive seen how well this place suits you, Ive heard all about your work, but i haven?t heard a murmur about your love life"
Hah! She'll be lucky.. "What love life?" i mutter, because that?s the one area that hasn?t been going too smoothly. In fact since that one episode in the alleyway with Mark, there?s been nothing. And really, i cant count that. Yeah i found him incredibly sexy, But it was a one night stand, and not something either of us will be repeating.
"Didn?t you mention something about a man at work?"
s**t! i forgot id rung her up the very next day and told her all about him "Nothings going on" i sigh "He's got a girlfriend and he's at work so it would be complicated. Can we please drop this now?"
"Funny isn?t it." She turns to me "I always thought if i moved to the city id find a man.."
"What do you mean, you through you'd find a man? You never wanted a man remember?"
She smiles "Ah, is that what i said? I suppose i never found a man who matched my requirements" And its scary.. because that?s exactly my excuse. "But I?d be lying if i say im unhappy" she added "I had you, and we built a lovely life together, but would i have been happier with a man in our lives?" she shrug?s sadly "I suppose ill never know."
"But you're my role model" I feel confused and im not altogether sure why. "You're the reason i give as to why i don?t want to get married. I tell everyone about you, and about how you didn?t need anyone, and about being happy as long as you have a support structure of family and friends." There?s a pause before my mother answers "Are you happy here love? Do you have friends? A good social life? Im not saying you need a man to be happy, because that would be hypocritical. But i know how lonely life can be on your own. But don?t sacrifice a wonderful man because of your principles, whatever they are."
"Pfft." I snort "Chance would be a fine thing. This place, as you can see" I gesture out of the window "Is not paved with eligible men. Not even when you work in television. Now come on, lets get some shopping done." I say standing up and hopping off the bus.
I love that my mother doesn?t even bother looking at the shops a woman of her age is supposed to be in. No, we head straight up to the second floor of Selfridges, and hit the funkier, younger stuff. Within minutes ive got a tight green cardigan to try on, a hot pink stretchy top, and a pair of navy straight-legged narrow trousers. My mothers holding back a lace shirt that should be far too young for her, but looks fabulous anyway, and a tight black shirt.
We share a changing room, and decide it isn?t big enough for the both of us, but its much more fun doing everything in pairs, so she perches on a stool while i try on the tops "Well.. that?s weird," I say, because the cardigan, my normal size 12, is gaping between each button, showing large expanses of white flesh.
"Have you put on some weight?"
"I didn?t think so, although.." As i think about it, I realize that my clothes defiantly have been feeling tighter. Just the other day, after lunch, I actually had to unbutton the waistband of my trousers to get comfortable. And strange only because my weight hasn?t fluctuated since i was a teenager. Im a size 12, no more, no less.
Except clearly i am not. Any more.
I try on the trousers and turn to my mother with confusion, because they aren?t even meeting. "They must be the wrong size. The must have labelled them wrongly." I swivel to see the label which is tucked inside at the back "Bugger. They are a 12. What do you think? Have i put on weight?" I feel a panic ive never felt before, because ive never put on weight, and this is an entirely new problem for me.
"Well, you are looking a tiny bit bigger. But tiny, Hardly noticeable" We both look at the clothes, then at my body. "Your boobs are rather big though" She says peering closely "You're not by any chance pre-menstrual?"
I start to laugh "That?s why love you, Mum," I give her a hug. the buttons now almost popping off the cardigan "I completely forgot" I lean down to pull my diary out my bag, because i am completely crap at remembering when im due.
"s**t."
"What?s the matter?"
"I must of forgotten again." I flick back to the last period wrote down, which was six weeks ago. Which would mean im due in two weeks' time. No, that cant be right. I flick back trying to work it out again
"So when are you due?"
"I don?t know." I hand the diary to my mother "You work it out. Look my period was on the 12th of February, so i would have had another 9th of March, which means its due on the 3rd Of April, so why have I got all the symptoms now?"
She looks at the diary then all the blank spaces "You did have a period didn?t you?"
"Of course i did, didn?t i?" I sit down on the stool with a thump. "Didn?t i? Of ********. Mum. I don?t know. I cant remember." I start to feel panic rising up my body.
"Look, if you remember stuff you did around then, you might remember whether you had a period or not. Okay?"
I nod, my head trying to ignore the fact that me heart is now thumping like a mad person's.
"9th March - Meeting with Mike" I shake my head. "You had a drink with someone called Johnny that evening"
"Oh, i remember that! But i don?t remember having my period."
"10th you were in the edit suite"
"Nope."
"Evening you had a meeting with Stella?"
"Nope its all blank. I don?t remember."
There?s a small silence as my mum studies the diary once last time then closes it slowly "I think my darling" she says through gritted teeth "that after this we ought to pay a visit to the pregnancy clinic"
<center>My heart threatens to jump right out of my mouth.</center>
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