FanStory.com - It's Meby Claire Tennant

The person I call me is a complex soul. I don't know why. You may not notice if you looked at me, even if you tried. If you know me well, the mood swings you could tell, by smile or frown, written words or impish grimace. However, I have been advised that doing that adds twenty years to my normally ageless face. Warning: if you believe that I have an ageless face, you are as conceited (or as loopy) as I am. You have also had a lesson on how to win friends and influence people.

I talk to myself repeatedly in anger, doubt, or memory. I sing to myself sometimes a little off key. Oh dear, put the hearing aid back in. There now, I will sing in tune; now watch the frown return if our pooch barks or growls.

Huh, better yet, my darling and I were having lunch at a restaurant with friends yesterday, and a little room was reserved for the group. The room was an echo chamber. Darling got excited, and his big Australian voice reverberated. It was deafening. My brother gave me a warning 'grow up' look, then saw "Harry the hearing aid" on a clean napkin. There was silence all around for all of sixty-five seconds. Someone else started to chatter; the Scots brogue was silenced. I remained the quiet, complex, frustrated darling wife, big sister, aunty and the woofer's Mummy. Not much changes.