Y’know. Pretty much everything. It’s just not how I imagined it to be when I was running around the povvo pool in my undies back in the 1970’s and 80’s. I thought I’d grow up to be 16, my name would change to Debbie or Stephanie (I thought these names were MOST sophisticated around my 1981 Heart To Heart phase), I would grow awesome round boobs and just kind of have my shit together. I’d know stuff about stuff. I’d have that temper of mine under control. My hair would be fabulous. My eyes would turn green. Just the basics, yeah?
Ah, no. Here am I on the verge of 42. My eyes are still pooh brown. My name is still Melanie. I still have a short fuse. I have a much larger povvo pool that my children enjoy frolicking about in. I now think the blessed names I adored are…well I’m glad that one didn’t pan out. No offense, Debbie and Stephanie types.
I wouldn’t say that I’m disappointed, so much as rather stunned by all that HAS come to pass. And frankly, this post ain’t gonna be enough to unstun me. But that’s alright. I’m getting kind of used to this.
Meanwhile, I am looking forward to doodling about on this blog, and seeing if I can’t just card through the fibers in the process.