April 14, 2003

• Getting to Know You - (And Telling Your Secrets)

  
  

  It's such a strange and surreal experience to translate the impression you've formed through online correspondence into the three dimensional person who was on the other end of those chats, emails, blogs and so forth.  Maybe it's because we've "known" each other much longer, or maybe it's because I had a really skewed picture of Faith, but I admit I was far more surprised upon meeting her than meeting Natasha.  See first there's the Xanga name - lovingmy40s - that gave me an impression.  When I was 8 I thought that all 16 year olds looked like Barbie.  I continued to think this subconsciously until the day before my 16th birthday when it dawned on me that I was about 12 inches too short to ever mold myself to Barbie's proportions.  And even before I had children, there was no earthly possibility that my waist would ever be that small.  I briefly considered praying for a miracle, but to be honest, I couldn't ever convince myself that it was in God's will for me to have that body.  I know I wouldn't have used it for holy purposes.

  
  

  But, this isn't about me, this is about Faith, or at least my impressions of Faith.  See as I approach 40 I'm realizing that in my mind a person in her 40's is automatically mature, adult, settled, and well, middle-ageish.  You know the kind of person who's just putting in time until the AARP card arrives so she can get those great discounts at Denny's.  I looked very close and found a couple tiny laugh-lines at the corners of her eyes (and never you mind the fact that she was laughing at the time) but other than that, Faith looks much more like my mental image of a 15 year old.  Slim, and fey, she strikes me as a woman on the brink of Barbiedom more than a woman on the brink of AARP. 

  
  

  After the Xanga name, there's the style and voice of Faith's writing.  She's so deeply reflective and complicated in her views that I rather imagined a person who strolls slowly and deliberately through life stopping often to take notes.  That impression was waaaaay off.  The fire in her blonde hair makes the crackle seem less like static electricity and more like a personality that refuses to accept limitation to the space occupied by her physical body.  The way she moved, up and down and sideways and around playing with her kids and flitting around the house, well, I don't know how she kept them hidden, but I'm pretty sure she has fairy wings under that sweater. 

  
  

  The Appalachian region has a reputation for mystical and unexplored marvels.  It's no wonder Faith lives there. 

  • 10:10 am
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