biracial models

*This is my entry for Live Journal Idol week 4-� please note embarrassing myself for all the internet/world to view...sigh.

It all started when I was younger and living with my mother.� I should probably explain who my mother is, or what she is like, but I think once you read this story, youapos;ll understand it.� (And mom, sorry if youapos;re reading this).�

My brother and I used to go shopping with my mother and she, always being the socialite that she is, always stopped to talk to someone that she knew.� After being there for what seemed like hours, talking to this person, we would leave the store saying "Mom, who was that lady you were talking to?"� Her answer was always the same..."You know, I think she used to be the so and so doing the thing that you and your brother were in when you were little."�

Later in life, I knew that she had NO�idea who that person was, or just was embarrassed later...but I learned from the master.

I end up sometimes doing that as well.� Just recently at a marketing seminar, I met a really nice woman that I clicked with, who was new to being an entrepreneur and I wanted to see her at the next event, which was a few weeks later.� A few weeks go by, and my husband said, "Hey, I think thatapos;s her", so I go over, and I say hello.� Nice big smile, "Hey, how are you??"� To realizing that it wasnapos;t that same person.�

But, I think in the long run when I do this to people that I�donapos;t know, I end up meeting and networking with, and sometimes, I�even end up making friends with.

I�mean, I did meet a good girlfriend of mine on the bus, MBTA in Boston, I had met a boyfriend of mine on the T with his mother (Hi, Frank if youapos;re reading this...) , and I met my future brother in law at a concert.� Also, now that Iapos;m on Live Journal, you never know who you are going to meet and know all ready.�

Once, I even met a woman who looked just like me.�

The hardest part I think now, is to know which child is yours....thatapos;s even better.� Once, at a train show, my then three year old was wearing a jacket and "Thomas" shirt, and then all of a sudden, I�said, "Come on honey, we have to go now," I turn to face him, and itapos;s not my child, but the woman who was standing next to us...same jacket, same shirt, different kid.

Ah well, thatapos;s what makes life interesting.






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