When Vivian met Stuckey

When last I wrote, I was in search of thigh high boots to reclaim my sense of normal. Imagine me literally walking around my apartment in thigh high boots and pajamas. No, not the sexy kind. The kind that have little birds and hearts chirping all over the pants. I am walking around trying to find my balance needing to know how long its going to take Richard Gere to swoop in and knock Stuckey's head off. I offer apologies to my readers who are not versed in all things Pretty Woman. But I need to work something out in my own mind and this is how I've chosen to do it. I've chosen to walk around in thigh high boots while wondering if I will ever really remember what it was like before I had to deal with this new normal. I've chosen to say I am Vivian and you my dear chameleon are Stuckey. You are Stuckey. Stuckey who appeared loyal and trustworthy. Stuckey who appeared to be Edward's friend. Stuckey who looked at Vivian and saw everything except who she was. She wasn't a corporate spy, a socialite trying to land a rich husband, or a fancy smancy Pharmaceutical rep. She was just a girl from a small town who liked short dresses and thigh high boots. Until you changed what it meant to wear them and she didn't. Adayinthelife