So sometimes I like to make up stories and pass them off as real life experiences. I first started doing this because my real life was kinda crazy and hard to explain to other people and the never-ending questions got annoying and/or embarrassing and sometimes (sob) sad, so it was just easier to make fun little fibs that tied everything up in neat little packages. Then as time went on, I started to enjoy these stories I was making up and it even came naturally to me. The best part is that they were never really extraordinary tales, never anything insanely over the top, but very rational narratives, so I never had to feel guilty for over-embellishing my life to the wonderful people who cared to listen.
In any case, this weekend on the 4th, I spent the day with a couple I have recently become friendly with - the Qs. They are the most adorable people I have met in Atlanta and they own a little house in one of those Midtown "transition" neighborhoods, where I was a guest of theirs for the festivities - bbq, some fireworks. The gathering was doubly significant as they had recently adopted a new pup and were celebrating his arrival. All in all, it was a very American occasion indeed.
Mrs. Q is an Ivy-leaguer turned retail manager and Mr. Q is a chef at a local university. They met while traveling across the world on separate trips and were so enamored by each other that they quickly changed their itineraries once their paths crossed and ended up completing the rest of their travels together.
"Get out there," Mrs. Q often tells me.
"See the world," she advises, "you never know what you will find."
Their near-fairy-tale romance is so enviable that I almost forget that what I want is the very opposite. I've seen enough of the world, thank you very much, I want to say to her but then the little fibber in me pops out and I make something up about always having wanted to join the Peace Corps.