My husband and I ventured to St. Cloud State, our alma mater, a few months ago. We had plans to go to a hockey game and then out to the renowned (and infamous) Red Carpet to watch the Gear Daddies. Eric had the foresight to book a room at the Kelly Inn, the most popular hotel in town. It's close in proximity to downtown St. Cloud and hosts a large number of events every weekend.
As we checked into our room that evening, I noticed an unusual number of women strolling around the Kelly Inn in evening gowns. Now, this is not a typical sight at this hotel, let alone in St. Cloud.
These women were also wearing sashes across their chests. The quick read I am, I deduced that there was some kind of beauty contest being held on the premises.
The best way to describe it was that it was a Cougar Pageant.
These coiffed, well-manicured ladies were cavorting with one another, their young children (and an occasional husband) in tow.
Unfortunately, I did not get to gawk as long as I would have wanted, as we had to be elsewhere. I was truly in awe of these women -- living, breathing, grown females, voluntarily flaunting their goods -- competing against one another for a crown or something. It was almost too much for me and I short-circuited. Eric had to carry me out of the hotel.
On our way out Sunday morning, we passed one of their hospitality rooms and Mrs. Kanabec County, Mrs. Kandiyohi County, and Mrs. Koochiching County were all swarming around in the hallway. I slowed my pace, hoping someone might notice me and suggest I register as a late entry into the contest. I know that happens to unknowns in malls: "I was discovered by a scout when I was out shopping at Sears with my friends, and now I am on the runway for Michael Kors. I know, it's crazy!" After all, I was a heavenly vision in sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt, baseball hat, smudged mascara, and unbrushed teeth.
They must have been too distracted by each other's rouge and sadly, I passed just under their radar.
Perhaps 2011 will be my year. Better shape up my act before then.
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You recently went to a doctor's appointment, and judging by the appearance of the doctor, you assume they must've 'Doogie Howsered' medical school
You tuned into the "oldies" station, only to hear your favorite song from high school
Someone younger than you was referenced as being "old"
You are raising children, but still feel like a child yourself
You are tempted to give your bike a ghostie because it's still just so funny
You perform office pranks regularly to make your insufferable job seem...well, less insufferable
If you answered "yes" to any of these, you might be an Adult Imposter. Welcome. This is a place where immaturity is not only encouraged, but celebrated.
I hope you will visit me to take a break from your work, kids, significant other(s), or Mentos. I will write about nonsensical, meaningless things from my childhood to present. I hope you will find my ramblings a most excellent use of time.
...in her true form
I am a child trapped inside the body of a grown woman. My birth certificate says I was born in the 70s, but my mental state and maturity indicate I was conceived in the late 90s.
Do any of the following statements apply to you?
You recently went to a doctor's appointment, and judging by the appearance of the doctor, you assume they must've 'Doogie Howsered' medical school
You tuned into the "oldies" station, only to hear your favorite song from high school
Someone younger than you was referenced as being "old"
You are raising children, but still feel like a child yourself
You are tempted to give your bike a ghostie because it's still just so funny
You perform office pranks regularly to make your insufferable job seem...well, less insufferable
If you answered "yes" to any of these, you might be an Adult Imposter. Welcome. This is a place where immaturity is not only encouraged, but celebrated.
I hope you will visit me to take a break from your work, kids, significant other(s), or Mentos. I will write about nonsensical, meaningless things from my childhood to present. I hope you will find my ramblings a most excellent use of time.
The Adult Imposter
...in her true form
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