I LOVE the Netflix series Grace & Frankie. I love it so much I'm watching it from the very beginning again.
Naturally, Frankie is my favourite character. I love her free wheeling nature, her huge jewellery, her funky colourful clothes, her mane of hair and her hand painted clogs.
Yet, I've noticed that I am Grace or Frankie depending on who I'm with. My sister, Louise is a full time art student in the Crawford School of Art and is like Frankie with her love of art and her long hair. With her I am Grace, the sensible one. Why? I'm not sure. She's not a flake and doesn't need the likes of me to keep her grounded but she has a such a relaxed, non-judgemental approach to other humans and life in general that makes me envious and somehow it brings out the control freak in me.
At work, I am surrounded by very sensible people and they bring out the Frankie in me. I've even bought myself a pair of clogs. I'm the one who laughs at the inappropriate moments. A colleague told me her house burned down and I barked out laughing. Tragedies make me laugh. The more someone is suffering the more I am inclined to laugh. At my father's funeral, my brothers and I were giggling at memories of him two minutes after his coffin left the church. Maybe it's an anxiety thing. Frankie would have laughed.
Naturally, Frankie is my favourite character. I love her free wheeling nature, her huge jewellery, her funky colourful clothes, her mane of hair and her hand painted clogs.
Yet, I've noticed that I am Grace or Frankie depending on who I'm with. My sister, Louise is a full time art student in the Crawford School of Art and is like Frankie with her love of art and her long hair. With her I am Grace, the sensible one. Why? I'm not sure. She's not a flake and doesn't need the likes of me to keep her grounded but she has a such a relaxed, non-judgemental approach to other humans and life in general that makes me envious and somehow it brings out the control freak in me.
At work, I am surrounded by very sensible people and they bring out the Frankie in me. I've even bought myself a pair of clogs. I'm the one who laughs at the inappropriate moments. A colleague told me her house burned down and I barked out laughing. Tragedies make me laugh. The more someone is suffering the more I am inclined to laugh. At my father's funeral, my brothers and I were giggling at memories of him two minutes after his coffin left the church. Maybe it's an anxiety thing. Frankie would have laughed.
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