Name: Mary Jane Wilmington
NickName: I like Jane or Janie really. Some people call me MJ but I hate that… Just don’t do anything about it is all.
Gender: Female
Age: 21 years old
Species: Human
Birthplace: Portland, Indiana
Occupation: Part-time Model, Part time Auto Mechanic at a small shop.
Physical Description: People tell me I look like my mother, but that’s about all we have in common. My hair is long, with a slight wave that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what I do, and is a sandy brown color that isn’t quite blond. My eyes are usually a light slate blue, but because they’re gray, they can also reflect greens as well. It usually depends on what I’m wearing and what my surroundings look like.
I like to wear just simple clothing when I’m not at a photo shoot, but I know how to take advantage of my body. I’m almost tall, standing at 5’6” and though I’m not over weight, I’m not a fricking twig like some of the girls I work with. At 150 I’m actually at a healthy weight thank you.
People say I’m pretty and I get a lot of attention from guys. But I hate it. I’ve never liked being ‘pretty’ because men never really respect you for anything else. I know most can’t get past the face. Or the breasts.
Snapshot of Me: I said I don’t like being thought of as pretty and attracting a lot of attention, so why do I model? Simple. I like the money. If people think I’m pretty, why shouldn’t I take advantage of that? Why shouldn’t I try to use it to make my situation better? This world is hard to get by, and though I won’t be like my mother and do just about anything, I don’t think a few pictures of me modeling someone’s clothing or jewelry or an add for something is too bad.
Besides, my dad’s actually proud of me and glad that he can say his daughter’s a model and a good looking one at that. Just for grins, I have all my fan mail from guys sent to his house rather than my flat.
I love cars, antique ones are the best, but my prize and beauty is a 1984 Chevrolet Monte Carlo. It used to belong to my dad and it was a Sweet 16 present. It’s my baby, my boyfriend and my one true love. I treat my car better than I treat me sometimes and I’ve been known to hold off on buying groceries when money was tight so I could do something to it that wasn’t really an absolute necessity. It’s older than me, but it runs like a beauty. I will never get rid of it.
History: I had a mother, and a father, but neither of them were really ever around. My mom and dad never got along and I never even knew why they got married. She was never home when I was little, usually at work at the local grocery store or at her other ‘job’ as this other guys mistress. I would see my dad on occasions, but I think that he was kind of upset he had a daughter rather than a son, though he never said it.
But he must have gotten over it because he decided to take me to live with him when I was eight years old, because my mother was getting in even worse with this man who was already married and he didn’t want me in that sort of environment. I had two older half brothers (Five and 3 years) older than me and a younger (by one year) one, all by my dad’s girlfriend. And she never really liked me because the fact my mother was a cheating woman and she wasn’t even sure I was my fathers daughter. But I know I was. We acted too much alike not to be related after all. I was probably conceived during one bad night or something because my parents had been separated for years before. But my dad never seemed to care.
But I grew up around a bunch of guys, so that was how it was. I love to watch football, I’ll play when I can. I learned how to fix cars and take care of things like that too because well, you just pick that kind of stuff up when you grow up around the ‘he-man’ types.
However there was no denying I was still a girl. Needless to say, in Indiana I had a lot of guys after me, but with four brothers, I never had a boyfriend. The guys didn’t even get to meet my dad because none of the guys ever felt like being interrogated by them. I hated it then, but now I wish I was still down there so I didn’t have to worry about it.
When I was 18 I decided to try my hand in college, and found one somewhere different. I decided to go up to Demaitre, Canada. I always loved the cold weather and I figured a change of scenery would be nice. But I found out rather quickly that school wasn’t my thing. So I found a vocational school where I could actually be certified in automotive repair and bodywork and did that instead. The classes were a breeze and I actually got to meet guys with an interest in the things I liked. Real Football, cars, drinking and dancing, things like that. I found a few good friends and they quickly became like my brothers up here. None of them had any interest in me as a girl friend of course, because they were all older than me and a couple even had girlfriends already, and they understood that I wasn’t really looking for a relationship.
I found a home here, and I really like Canada a lot. My dad wants me to come back home, and I kind of want to, but not forever. I’m happy in Demaitre and I have to say I’ve made a nice life for myself here.
