This morning while doing the usual crossword puzzle and orange juice, I was notified to find that a little girl I had once babysat had “added” me on facebook- perhaps you have heard of the site? Don’t worry, nobody has.
What was puzzling to me was, aside from her red hair, she would have been merely impossible to distinguish from her friends. They had the same style of hair, clothes, make-up- even their poses were the same in most photographs.
6DOWN: change
I had to check her birth-date to make sure I had it right. She was 13 going on 20. This was not the same baby girl who had liked to watch Lizzie McGuire on Sundays, or wanted to make snow angels, or wanted to sing like Faith Hill, who used to wear her favorite color (orange) and make me laugh hysterically with her jokes. She was so different. She was so beautiful. Though she still is, to me, she is a completely different person altogether. Those colored beads she used to wear have been replaced by a Tiffany necklace. And that back-pack with all its patches has been replaced by a brown leather bag. That orange sweater, gone. Instead, a tight black shirt featuring “Abercrombie”. Red sneakers- out the window. So passe. It’s stilettos, black stilettos. You can forget about hot chocolate and those exact five marsh-mellows she always wanted in it. It’s a coffee with a double double. “And that’s frappaccino to you, pal”
4ACROSS: Premature?
I do realize everybody inevitably “grows up”. Though that means different things to different people, I perceive “growing up” as an inevitable, sometimes unconscious, experience that epitomizes an individuals inward experience, physically and outwardly. This can be revealed through a simple conversation with someone to their physical appearance. Change is inevitable and revealed in inevitable ways. I wont argue the course of life, how foolish would that be, but it all seems so premature, at least to me. I’ll admit, I have my own leather bag and knee high boots. And I do have keys to my own car. And you’re likely to find me in Starbucks with my cinnamon latte come midterms but… I’m nearly 19 and tryin’ for a dream
These lyrics instinctively came to mind…
When children have to play inside so they don’t disappear
And private eyes solve marriage lies cause we don’t talk for years
And futbol teams are kissing Queens
and losing sight of having dreams
In a world that what we want is only what we want until it’s ours
Calling all you angels.
