doing farah's 30 day character challenge, you should too: http://www.polyvore.com/thirty_day_character_challenge/group.show?id=140402
i might do them every now and then with daria (after 3 years, it'd be good to go back to her past a bit more so i have more to write about). but i decided to mainly stick with monty from a chicago story, because she was a great character and i'd love to write again. i might also do it for kasia too, if i finish this one.
oh, there's no way i can make a set every day, so i'm knocking over a few questions in each set.
Day 01 – Introduce yourself, in great detail
• Name, Age, Birthday, Physical traits, Ethnicity, etc.
My name is Montana Eloise Spiess, also widely known as Monty, and variations on that (Monny, Monty pie, etc.). I’m 23 years old, born on December 23 – yes, almost Christmas, I’m well aware. I’m told I was born somewhere in the Midwest, but my mother gave me up for adoption as soon as she was released from the hospital. Luckily, I was an adorable baby, and adopted almost immediately by an incredibly eccentric pair of Europeans whom I consider to be my real parents. Honestly, I don’t know my ethnicity. It’s not a big part of my life. My parents have spoken to me in three different languages since I was born, and I picked them up pretty easily. It’s not uncommon to hear me talk in German or French.
My physical traits... well. I’m tall and lanky and overall gangly, I’ve been compared to a baby giraffe on more than one occasion (often by the people who love me most). I’m very awkward and occasionally clumsy, my limbs never seem to want to work together. I have blonde hair and big eyes. People always tell me that I look younger than I am, which is... a compliment, I guess? But I’ve never been one of the ‘pretty girls’. Granted, I have been told that I’ve gotten more attractive since junior high, but I’m not sure if that one is a compliment.
Day 02 – Your first love, in great detail
• Your first kiss, past relationships, your view on love, relationships, and men
My first kiss was with a kid in my biology class when I was 16. Thankfully, it happened outside the classroom – I’ve always been a bio nerd, and this guy, Trey, asked me to be his tutor. In typical teenage fashion, it was under the guise of having a crush on me, and we were in the park one day studying when he jumped on me, kissing me. I was horrified – he had this weird patchy facial hair going on, because he was too young to grow a real beard, and his breath smelled like mayonnaise. I ran away from him pretty quickly, and didn’t return to bio class for about a week.
I’ve only really had two relationships, one of which I’m still in. The first was in sophomore year of college with a fellow zoologist, Spencer. We dated for two or three months, but we worked much better as friends, and we both realised it pretty quickly. I’m glad, though, because now he’s like a brother to me. Admittedly, a brother I’ve slept with, so – wait, no, I don’t want to go down that path.
Anyway, I met my current boyfriend, Andy, on the first day of middle school. He was an ass. We went to high school together, and he became a little more endearing as he got older, but it wasn’t until I ran into him at college that I really thought of him in a romantic way. We kissed once when we were drunk, and started dating not long after. After college, he went to Quantico for nine months for FBI training, and we were meant to be taking a ‘break’ but he was back in Chicago as often as possible to see me. When he did finally come back, we moved in together, and that’s how we’ve been ever since.
Andy and I have our bad moments, but most of the time, we’re a perfect match. I’m not romantic at all, I’m not huge on talking about love, and either is he. We know it’s implied that we love each other; we don’t have to buy expensive presents or say it every day. Love is weird and awkward and messy, but so am I. I don’t think about marriage, but I can’t imagine ever not living with Andy. Above all, he makes me laugh, which is so important to me. I’ve always been shy around guys, but he brings me out of my shell.
Day 03 – Your parents, in great detail
• Who are they, what do they do, where they were born, how they were when you were a kid and now, how they act with other people and you and your sibling/s
My parents are absolute weirdos. I have no hesitation in saying that. But they’re my weirdos, and they’ve made me who I am today, and I couldn’t possibly love them any more than I do. My father, Johann, grew up in a small town in Baden-Württemberg (in Germany), where he’d play soccer every day with his siblings. He was alright at it, and eventually made his way up to the Bundesliga – but his success stopped at the Bayern reserve bench. He didn’t see many major league games. He was forced to retire, eventually, and secured a job with a national German newspaper as a soccer columnist, but it turned out to be more of a gossip column. He hated it, which was part of his motivation for moving to America.
My mother, Sabine, has always been a writer, from her days as a middle-class youth living just outside Paris. She studied literature at university in France, but once she graduated, she found that Paris was already rife with pseudo-intellectual authors (in hindsight, I have no idea why she was surprised. Writers in France, who would have thought!?). She interned many publishing houses until she finally landed a job ghost-writing autobiographies for French celebrities (and a few English ones). She also despised her job, and jumped at the chance to move to Chicago. They decided to go into the hotel business, and bought a quirky little establishment uptown called The Lincoln. That’s where they live now, with a bevy of eccentric guests. It really fits them – they’re bizarre, sometimes a little unhinged, but very generous in their love, to everyone. Except for when they encounter dumb Americans, which is when they’ll switch to French or German and insult them quite loudly.
I don’t know my birth parents, and I’ve never really wanted to find them. I’m curious, of course, because I’d like to know a little about my history, but I don’t think you can get more interesting than my adopted family – my real family. My maternal grandmother also lives here, but she’s holed up permanently in a fancy nursing home because she has Alzheimer’s. Most of the time she’s okay, but every now and then she’ll convince herself that I’m a Nazi spy and start abusing me. Mostly, it’s hilarious, but also kind of sad – for her, not me, I can take the abuse. I don’t have any siblings, so I was a little spoiled when I was a child. I think sometimes my mother was perplexed by me, because I wasn’t a graceful swan like her, but I know my parents love me unconditionally.