User Profile

I'm an adult woman. I have a great husband, just had a baby, Jonas, and a "successful" business. I spend my life doing all kinds of grownup things:
* If I don't shop, we don't eat.
* If I don't do wash, then we go naked.
* If I don't work, the mortgage doesn't get paid.
* If I make really bad choices at work, people are laid off and whole families don’t eat.

That's a hefty load of grownup responsibilities.

So when am I going to feel like a grownup? Why do I identify more with the eight-year-old girl lying on grass, looking up at the clouds and imagining the woman she would become than the actual, real, grey-at-the-roots, but pretty decent woman that I am?

The short answer is: the eight-year-old is way more fun. The longer answer involves probing hopes and fears, inner turmoil, expectations -vs- reality and might possibly result in psychotropic drugs and facing the Real Me. If you don't mind, I'll stick with the short answer - eight-year-olds are way more fun.

At Lunchtime - A Story of Love

When the busstopped suddenly to avoid
damaging a mother and child in the road, the
younglady in the greenhat sitting opposite
was thrown across me, and not being one to
miss an opportunity i started to makelove
with all my body.

At first she resisted saying that it
was tooearly in the morning and toosoon
after breakfast and that anyway she found
me repulsive. But when I explained that
this being a nuclearage, the world was going
to end at lunchtime, she tookoff her
greenhat, put her busticket in her pocket
and joined in the exercise.

The buspeople, and therewere many of
them, were shockedandsurprised and amused-
andannoyed, but when the word got around
that the world was coming to an end at lunch-
time, they put their pride in their pockets
with their bustickets and madelove one with
the other. And even the busconductor, being
over, climbed into the cab and struck up
some sort of relationship with the driver.

Thatnight, on the bus coming home,
wewere all alittle embarrassed, especially me
and the younglady in the greenhat, and we
all started to say in different ways howhasty
and foolish we had been. Butthen, always
having been a bitofalad, i stood up and
said it was a pity that the world didn't nearly
end every lunchtime and that we could
always pretend. And then it happened . . .

Quick asa crash we all changed partners
and soon the bus was aquiver with white
mothballbodies doing naughty things.

And the next day
And everyday
In everybus
In everystreet
In everytown
In everycountry

people pretended that the world was coming
to an end at lunchtime. It still hasn't.
Although in a way it has.

Roger McGough


"Be who you are, and say what you feel, because those who mind, don't matter, and those who matter, don't mind."
- Dr. Seuss

LISTEN TO THE MUSTN'TS

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DON'TS
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me --
Anything can happen, child
ANYTHING can be.

Shel Silverstein
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"plan for the long run, live in the moment, no regrets"
~Mr. T






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<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" bgcolor="#ffffff" width="375"> LiveJournal Trading Cards Free Account Edition LiveJournal Trading Cards Paid Account Edition monique_ User Number: 1111111111 Date Created:10/18/2002 Number of Posts: 1111111111 Monique is a happy-go-lucky person, who loves to laugh, loves to eat, and socialize. She always sees the silver lining on the darkest cloud even when everyone else is pointlessly trying to find the pot of gold. Strengths: Competitive, outgoing, smart-ass, wit, can laugh at self, and always turns her face to the sun. Weaknesses: Pistachio ice cream, karaoke, quirky men, talking to herself, the Simpsons and Ed*s buns! Hates cleaning. Special Skills: Can dance like Charlie Brown. Can survive on peanut butter toast. Always gets the last *intelligent* word. Weapons: Big curly hair can trap and strangle unsuspecting pedestrians. Monkey toes for grabbing, with specialized knife-like pinky toes with Ginsu slicing action. Self: Happily married *adult* woman who will never grow up. Thrives on youthfulness, not immaturity. Will one day open *The Forbidden Donughnut* Make your own LiveJournal Trading Card! Brought to you by crossfire_ Are You My Friend?