Someone asked if I was an expat
living in Europe. Alas no, I'm someone who
wishes she was an American. I am, horrors, a wannabe.
I have a theory that all of the
optimists sailed off to the Colonies hellbent on the pursuit of life, liberty
and the perfect pair of elasticated pants whilst my forbears stood torn-faced
on the doc muttering, "Abandon the button at your peril".
I dream of riding the trains
across this vast continent, with a dog called “Boomer” by my side, slipping Patsy
Cline’s interpretation of "Sweet Dreams" into the CD player, rolling
up the sleeves of my checked shirt and swillin' mineral water out of a brown
paper bag. Not big or clever, but I'm
dreaming, remember?
So if anyone wants to adopt me
I'm fully house trained & don't cost much to feed...
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