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- Rank: Eccentric Mentor
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@leon-fleming Wait. *looks up from her giant bowl of nachos, homemade queso blanco dribbling down her chin* You didn’t… *snatches a napkin from an outstretched hand, quickly wiping the cheese from her face* …actually think that I thought that you were married–did you? *eyes widen with disbelief* I mean, I knew better than that. (Not that it’s a preposterous idea in general that you would be married–I don’t doubt that it’ll happen eventually–it’s just that…well, it’s quite obvious that you were joking about that as much as you were joking about dying. And you were joking about dying, weren’t you? I mean, if I knew that it was because of my forcefulness that another human being was going to die, I’d just die. (Not really. I’m joking. You do understand that, don’t you?)
Well. *dusts salt and chip crumbs from hands* I’m glad we finally got that cleared up. Oh wait. I think I hear my husband calling. *turns away* Yes? What’s that you say, dear? Oh, of course. I’ll be there in but a moment. *returns to screen* He needs me to give the baby a bath–turns out little Junior made an awful mess of his lunch. You’ll excuse me, won’t you? *wiggles fingers* Ta-ta.
@gracie-j Very nice. Your dad sounds like he grows the beard, yes?
Oui, oui, Mademoiselle. Very true that. I see. Very nice. I’ve been working on various accents for long times now, but I haven’t paid attention to the progress of my French accent, yet. I might try that Bostonian accent sometime, but who knows.
I’d rather hope for the both of those sentiments, GJ. That is, intrigue and theatrical characterizing writing style. I’d hope for these two to be clearly shown throughout the full content of Epitaph. Which reminds me of style in regards writing. I’m thinking that the style I’d like would be that of Jane Austen mixed with Charles Dickens and William Shakespeare for this novel. With, of course, a bit of my own unconventional writing style which I so impose upon my readers. Those readers being only my own fictional characters at the moment. I haven’t written anything worth mentioning or showing to my family as of yet. Just bits and pieces.
I see you are a published author, yes? You have written, I think, three novels? Or was it four?
Ah, don’t bother with those monks; that was merely a passing remark in jest, I’d gathered. That is, I think.
Verily, and most definitely true; the Higher Power is quite supreme over these two. These two really don’t exist, except for the first. Though man has made Time out to be something largely of the fantasy.
About palatial income: I think, that is, I think it may come. But I don’t really care if it does. My remark was simply to convey the idea that I think people will greatly enjoy Epitaph. But of course I can’t know for certain.
Actually, I’ve rarely come into contact with my characters yet. I’m still getting to know them, you see. Benedict and Annette are quite the fashionable couple, moving only lightly, though, with the whims of the crowds. They aren’t taken in to false statements as well as other folk, and they undertake through various means to teach their children in the ways of literature, art, the sciences, history, and their mathematical equations. Among other things.
Nay, I’ve never had peaches and ice cream, though the idea sounds GREAT at the moment.
Granted, I doubt I loath bananas as much as you do, but I’ve never really fully liked bananas. Originally, I loved them, but later I despised them. And now, I’m getting used to them, but I certainly don’t love them.
You can’t mean to tell me that you’ve no idea where Hampshire is? Gosh. Do I espy the lady blushing? Is that a drip of sweat dropping down the side of her head? You seem uncomfortable. You’re also muttering stuff about flames, though I certainly don’t see one anywhere near. That is, in the surrounding area. Yes, of course you were cleared of those charges, though your look of guilt, fear, and cautious terror quite decries that assumption. I’ve caught you at last, little Fire Lady! The detective strikes again!
Nay, I fear that it wouldn’t much. D’accord. I’ll keep the dang suit.
@gracie-j Indeed, getting married and dying aren’t on my to-do list at the moment.
XD Now you’re married?
- Rank: Eccentric Mentor
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@leon-fleming If you mean by that what I think you mean by that, then yes. My father grows the beard. (Oh, Lord. That sounds so funny when I type it out. Especially considering he literally grows a beard. 🤣)
Do pay the French some mind, I would suggest. You see, so many people get it terribly wrong, and it grates on my nerves to no end. But I do recommend trying out the Bostonian accent. It’s grand fun. So…what–have you tried Russian, Scottish, Irish? Hmm…what about German? Or maybe you’re more into Asian or African. Now, my mother and I can do a mean African-American accent. ‘Cuz, you see, Betty ‘cross the skreet, she done gone and tol’ me so. An’, Lawd ha’ marcy, dat woman shore would know, she would, ‘cuz she knows all ’bout dat dare accent, and ’bout dat fry chick’n. Lawd ha’ marcy, dat fry chick’n. Boy, you betta git you some o’ Betty’s chick’n from ova dare, ‘cross the skreet.
Ahem. Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, and Shakespeare, you say? Hmm. If you can successfully combine the threesome (preferably their more favorable characteristics, of course), then I think I might see palatial income in your future. Not that I claim to see the future, of course.
You haven’t shown anything to your family? So, what, they don’t bug you to death? I mean, not that my darling family has ever done anything of the sort. Why, how dare you assume such! (They’re crazy. But I love ’em.)
Yes. Self-published, mind you, but if you want to kind of, maybe, omit that and just let people assume that I’ve been published by Penguin or HarperCollins or Random House, then that works too. Um…two full-length novels, one novella, and two short stories. (I’m currently working on the third novel, all of which are part of a series.)
Oh, yes. Just a passing remark. You see, I’d thought about the eunuch one, but since I can’t make that Jack Sparrow, “You aren’t a eunuch, are you?” face, I decided against it. Had I confirmation that you were Catholic (I get the distinctive feeling you aren’t), then I might have given it some thought.
Yes, yes. I would definitely trust the Higher Power more so than anything else. Seeing as how you can talk to Him. I’d find it odd carrying on a conversation with a clock, wouldn’t you?
Well, get to know them, won’t you? I mean, tread carefully, because you never know when they’ll surprise you (trust me, they will) or when you’ll fall so deeply in love (and I use that phrase loosely, of course) with them that you end up writing a previously-un-thought-of seven more books about them or speaking with their distinctively Archaic British voice in a modern day conversation with a passing acquaintance. It’ll happen–just give it time.
They do sound like wonderful folk. I hope to meet them someday.
That’s good to know. I went through a traumatic period in the my early childhood in which I would actually eat bananas, but after a while, their odd, fuzzy, mushy, room temperature, nigh flavorless…ness? started to rub me the wrong way. I’ve since given up on almost everything banana but for banana pudding. I can tolerate that.
A blush? Oh, absolutely not! Why, that’s…that’s this Georgia humidity. *fans herself furiously* You see, it gets so hot down here. And sweat? Well, that’s a natural, everyday occurrence for me, to be sweating, you see. And the guilt you sense is simply that, well, deuces. I’ll come clean, I suppose. You see, I shouldn’t have been seen the day of the fire, because I was having a meeting with one Ms. Austen, and had anyone known that I had played a part in crafting the wildly popular Pride and Prejudice, why, Ms. Austen’s reputation would be ruined!
By the way, can we keep the nickname? Fire Lady. I like that. It’s…terrifying. Feisty. Fiery. C’est magnifique! And I’ll call you…sir. I mean, it’s unique and yet classic. Sleek and debonair. I mean, who’s called sir?. No one I know of, that’s for sure…sir.
Eh, I’m over the suit now.
And, yes, I’m married now. To a wonderful man named Mitch. He’s tall–six foot four, to be precise–blond, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered, beautiful. I mean, he can be a grump at times, ’tis true, but beneath his surly demeanor lies a heart of gold. And his Irish accent? Coupled with that Irish temper? And his…oh, never mind. You wouldn’t want to hear of my wedded bliss–not when you’re single and probably terribly lonely in that cold, old, dark mansion…all by yourself. But, you see, little Mitchell Horatio Dennehy Jr. was born just last fall (we call him Denny or Junior) and his lovely little sister, Charity Ann, was born two months ago. Oh, she’s such a dear. Up squalling all hours of the night, yes, but a dear during the day. Ah…I do have such a wonderful life! And such a wonderful husband! You’re so deprived!
@gracie-j Yes, that’s what I meant. Pardon me for the obscure meaning; I was using Poirot’s foreign accent (which he uses on occasion), and a bit of my own style.
On the accents: actually, I can’t think how easy it could be to eventually learn the French accent. It just takes time, of course. And naturally, practice; with a bit of…how shall I put this, empathy. I’ve tried Russian once or twice, but not a whole lot. I couldn’t just pull it up out of the files, you know, and start talking Russian tinted English, or anything. I’ve also used the Scottish and Irish accents fairly often; the Irish more so than the Scottish, though I really enjoy speaking with a Scottish accent. It’s like Australian for me. But not totally like Australian. I can’t pull up Australian on a whim, during everyday things, but some days I can and when I do, it comes as smoothly as if I’ve talked in it my entire life. I’m not sure if I’ve tried German too often, though I think I have once or twice. I haven’t ever really tried Asian or African, though. I have thought in African-American a few times. Though, only after reading Huckleberry Fin.
Yes, I think those three worded together would work very well. Austen’s spectacular dialogue and conversational style, Dickens’ general style, and Shakespeare’s archaicness. Along with many other smaller tints and dashes from the lot of them, of course.
Well, I mean, I have shown various things to them, of course, and they’ve red a little of mine poetry, but I haven’t shown them any of my prose writings as of NOW. That is, it’s changed a lot from several years ago.
Nice! I’m self-published, as well, and it actually turned out pretty well. That’s great; what publishing company are you using? Or self-publishing company, that is.
Yes, drop the whole thing and know that I am most definitely NOT a Catholic.
Yes; I’d even find it difficult to actually carry a conversation with a clock. Not that I talk to clocks, or anything.
That’s what I’m doing at the moment; they are nice, I’m sure. As for seven books featuring them truly, that’s just a bit doubtful. Who knows…maybe I’ll put them in another one some books after Epitaph gets published (if indeed, it does at all).
I’m sure you might.
Well, everybody’s got their ideas and such; I’m more or less indifferent to bananas now.
Oh, sure. Cheep alibi. I understand about the sweating, though. I wasn’t aware that Jane Austen was in Georgia when she was writing Pride and Prejudice.
Alright, Fire Lady, though “sir” sounds a bit dull to me.
I assumed so.
Oh, that’s very nice; when was the wedding? How are you coping with two children while still being in collage? (I’m assuming, of course, that you are in fact still in collage.)
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@leon-fleming Ah. That makes sense.
Zat is true, I would suppose. C’est en forgeant qu’on devient forgeron, you know. One zing zat, I zink, you can do to ‘elp is to read ze accent (as in, ze phonetically spelled French-accented English such as I am writing now) and to become familiar wiz ze language, you know, ze nuances and such, and listen to native speakers. Drop the n at the end of a word. Every ment is monh, but without so much emphasis on the n, of course. Rs are my favorite–don’t roll them or drop them; say them from the back of your throat. Like arrgh, just no emphasis on the g like the pirates say.
But zat is of no matter, I daresay. I am no expert, after all.
My Russian’s not very good either. I keep trying, but all I manage to get out is “I’ll suck your royal blood” in more a Cate Blanchett/Irina Spalko sort of voice. You know, from Indiana Jones? Ah…the accents of the Celts and the Gaels. The accents of my ancestors. I love those accents, but not everyone does them right. Nowadays, most Irish sound more British than anything else, but if you listen closely, you can hear the Irish lilt–especially in the con. Like in conventional or continue. Australian’s a finicky one. Every time try that one or Cockney, I come out sounding like a guy. Not cool.
Ah…the archaicness of Shakespeare. (I just realized archaicness is not a word. Archaicty? Nope. Whatever.) Now that’s something to include. I’m still trying to hone my own archaic/Austen voice, but I’ve gotten nowhere so far but archaic insults and an excessive use of commas and semi-colons. I think you’ve already mastered it–I keep reading your posts in a British accent.
Yes, I see. So, do you prefer poetry to prose or is it easier for you? And I’ve noticed you’re more of a fantasy writer…but will Epitaph be fantasy or more of a mystery, maybe? (Per the title, a murder mystery?)
I’m rather fond of self-publishing myself. There’s something so freeing about having (1) full control over your writing and the process and royalties and such and (2) being able to publish something whenever, wherever, no deadlines at all. I mean, self-marketing isn’t any fun, but that’s the price you pay. I’m using KDP. You?
Oo, oo. Can I guess what you are? (Just go ahead and know that I’m weird like this. I like to guess people’s denominations based on their last name, state of residence, and ancestry. It’s a proven method.) Lutheran’s my first guess, since you’re Northern European, which, thanks to Luther, is predominately Lutheran. If not Lutheran…nondenominational (you’re from Cali), Pentecostal (nope…not feeling that one), or Presbyterian. If none of those are right, I’m left with Episcopalian, Methodist, Baptist, and Church of God. I’m sticking with Lutheran.
Oh, okay. You don’t talk to clocks. So that little circle hanging on the wall behind you that you were muttering to just a minute ago is not a clock? Mm-hmm. If you say so.
Well, I wouldn’t be too sure. My heroine, Rina, was slated for one novel. Now, she’s one of the main POVs of three, a short story, and set to be a MC in yet another book. Then, when her children get their books (yes, I’m milking it), she’ll probably have a few scenes in her perspective too. And then I have another character (who’s yet to make her debut), Lady Samantha, who happens to have six historical comedies, a position as narrator of several Regency romances, and a middle-grade series about her younger years. Granted, not all of that may make it to published, but we’ll see.
I think I’ll mark my calendar for a visit sometime next, next fall. You see, I’m very busy this year. And next year. But I do hope they’ll join me for a cup of tea one afternoon. Do they like Earl Grey, do you think?
Oh, no. She was in Chawton at the time, but seeing as how I was in the area, we met up at the hotel in Hampshire, which isn’t all that far away. I’m in Georgia now, however, handling some last minute issues with my lawyer. You see, they’ve found evidence.
Well, sir, have you any other suggestions? Mister has a nice ring to it. Fellow, boy, guy, man, dude, other person over there. Eh–that one’s a mouthful. You can’t really shorten Leon. Or Grace, seeing as how Gray is too…gray, and Gracie is a letter longer. Lee? Nah. Leo? Nope. Sir? Certainly!
We were married 1920. It was a whirlwind romance. (Well, on my part. It took a lot of convincing that I was the woman for him. He’s a stubborn old Irishman, you know, and we’re several years apart, so needless to say, he didn’t see me that way for quite some time.)
And I’ve taken the year off of college, you see, and not because of the kids–they’re perfect angels when it comes to letting Mommy get her work done. I’m toying with the idea of transferring to Coastal Pines (tech school) next year, hopefully to be a certified childhood education specialist by the time I graduate high school two years later. The plan is to have the hubby force me to stay home 24/7 with the kids, so we can homeschool and bond over cookies and books. But the backup plan is to get my parapro license and work at the elementary school. And, you know, the retirement plan is to become missionaries, but I’m not sure how that will fit in.
You know, I may have to put this story to rest. The idea of me being married with two kids at fifteen to a fictional book character who was nearly 38 in 1920 is really quite disturbing.
@gracie-j Ah, yes, I know exactly what you mean with the French language pronunciation. I’ve actually spent a bit of time thinking about that. You see, I’m a part time linguist, and the phonological compositions of languages greatly intrigues me. I’ve done so in many circumstances and according to the particular distinctions of many languages. I make my own, you see. I really particularly enjoy French-accentuated “r”s for their irregular pronunciation. I experience “r”s and other things a bit differently for my…particular background.
*laughing* That’s and interesting take on Russian. Yes, I’ve seen that Indiana Jones, but they lost me with the alien business. That’s not Indiana Jones! I actually enjoy speaking with a Russian accent because it reminds me of a movie I once watched with a particularly comical Russian-type character. But anyways.
I get what you mean about the Irish accents sounding more like British accents. I actually did that once, then realized that is sounded more like a British accent. Weird! I don’t remember doing it again.
*snort turns into a laugh which sounds more like a horse bark* Insults? Commas? Semi-colons? Actually, I use semi-colons quite a bit. Some people in my class last year were timid to use it because it was “too complex, and I don’t want to mess it up”, or something such as this. It made me wince inside.
But nevertheless, I do see your point. What probably helps you read them in a British accent is because I’m writing them unconsciously in a British accent. I’ve got a mix of several different authors to thank for that.
I’m not sure whether or not I enjoy writing poetry more than prose or not. I do enjoy greatly writing in them both, but on occasion, one seems more enjoyable than the other. I’m not really sure. I’d say that poetry is much easier for me considering I’ve got a much fuller knowledge on the art in comparison with my knowledge of the art of prose. But I enjoy prose just as easily as poetry. I’m assuming you much prefer prose to poetry?
Yes, actually, Epitaph is a murder mystery. Rather a sinister title, eh, Mademoiselle?
I do like self-publishing, I guess, but I think I’d rather enjoy traditional publishing much more for the sole reason of coming out with a much better product. I use KDP, as well, believe it or not.
Actually, I’m just a Christian. I believe in the Bible, the Word of God; words dually written by the men God chose to write them as well as God Himself. I believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross, being marred more than any man on earth has ever been marred before; being disfigured in the flesh, drinking the cup of God’s fiery wrath. I believe that He, Jesus, died, giving up His soul willingly and of His own power, and rose again from the grave of His own power. I believe that He died for His those Elect of His Church, and that, because of the debt He paid for us on the cross, we who have repented of our sins (because of the work God Himself did in us; He saved us, not ourselves), are able to have communion with our Father in Heaven, glorifying and worshipping Him forever. I believe than man is totally depraved of all goodness and merit that me may find within himself. I know that I once was dead in my trespasses and sins, but now have been made alive by God through His Son Jesus Christ who died on the cross. I know that every single day I struggle with sin, but not just struggle, I war against it. It is a thing that wars against my Father in heaven, and I shall hate what He hates and love what He loves. And so I hate sin utterly. I cannot wait for the day when I shall be in Heaven for eternity with the saints, glorifying God, where no sin is present. When all sin is abolished by God and He has brought about His holy plans. God is infinite, and thus, this could go on forever, and it must, and it will.
No, that’s just a cookie on the wall. I was saying, “Hello, honey, you look nervous.”
Nice! The only difference with mine is that they are merely the characters of a cast. A cast that is to be dissected by the detective, of whom I am still working on.
Yes, I’m sure they might, though I seldom set my mind to know those drinks which amuse them most.
Oh, you must be in a terrible situation. Have they anything incriminating? Are you in need of financial help? How have you managed to keep this secret from your family for so long? That is, if you did manage it at all.
Well, you could call me Bob, dude, William, Timothy, or Gregory. Or you can call me Leon, Leonardo, or just L. I could call you G, or Greysee, or even just Gro. Like gr[ah]. Hey, Grah! Whatchya doin’?!
That’s quite the story, indeed. Wait, you’re fifteen? (I’d rather thought you were more like nineteen or twenty-four.) I’d have thought that by now your “hubby” would be old enough to be your great grandfather!
@gracie-j I’m posing as a thirty-year-old from Maine, who lost too much on gambling, and didn’t get enough education. (Not really, that would just be WEIRD.)
For some strange reason, people think that my usage of the word ‘weird’ is weird. Admittedly, it is a weird word, but it is a word after all. Why, one would think that those people are sort’ve weird by discriminating about a word. But then again, everybody is sort of weird in their own ways. I’m not serious about this, or anything of that sort. That would just be too weird.
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@leon-fleming Bon, I no longer need to explain it you then, uh? Would it be mean if told you that you are SO nerdy? It’s adorable, of course, but you make me feel so…not nerdy. Which doesn’t fit the very nerdy glasses. Maybe I should get contacts. Or read more. That’s certainly something to consider.
I do so love those rs.
And your nerdiness.
Ahem. Where was I? That is, before I started lamenting over my loss of perceived smarts to the obvious genius who continues to bedazzle (love that word) me with his “I study this” and “I do that” and “I learned this when I was five years old…how do you not know this?” Ah, yes.
Oh, the aliens! I hated that movie. The other three were great. (The Temple of Doom scared the crap out of me, though, and more with the chilled monkey brains and snake babies than anything else.) But the newer one…nope. It went from mythology (with a Biblical slant) to…aliens. Bleck.
The Russian accent reminds me more of vampires than anything else.
I’ve done an extensive study on Irish accents, you know. From Sam Neill to Pierce Brosnan. (As in, I watch a lot of movies. 😉) Seriously, though, it makes one wonder just how authentic “Oi thar, me good man! Top o’ the mornin’ t’ ye!” is. I mean, two hundred years ago in the gutters of Dublin, probably, but now, nope. Pa Grape has a decent Irish accent. More Boston Irish than anything else, I’d say.
Well, semi-colons aren’t something people are used to. I mean, they have to teach their usage in college, so… Granted, I think I’ve only now figured out exactly how to use them. They’re such fun little…thingamabobs. One thing that bothers me to no end, though, like a pet peeve, is comma splices. I get on my sister’s nerves with how obsessive I get about them. I mean, how hard is it to use a period? God invented them (er, someone invented them) for a reason, you know!
Anyway…there are a lot of good archaic insults, you know. Like doddypoll and jobbernowl.
The British accent is so much more literary than American. I mean, Americans churned out Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Gone with the Wind and Tom Sawyer and To Kill a Mockingbird, all great classics, of course, but what is the voice of literature? British. So it works. I even read over my own work in a British accent, despite the fact that the accent we know now didn’t even exist at that time. It still feels so much more realistic. You know?
That makes sense. I’m definitely more inclined toward prose–that’s all I know, really, since I grew up on Nancy Drew and romance novels. I’m slowly coming to enjoy poetry, I think, the more I read, but I’m very picky. About both, really. I do like Tennyson’s The Sleeping Beauty. Which is the only poem I’ve read aside from Still I Rise and Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? and Sabrina Fair, so, yes, I do like prose better. It’s easier for me to write, of course, being more of a stream-of-consciousness writer.
A very sinister title, Monsieur. Very much so. Murder mysteries are always so very intriguing. I’ve several planned myself, but it’ll be a while.
I’d supposed so. I would like to have a novel or two traditionally published, but that takes a lot of work. Hopefully, I can get myself established as a self-pubbed author, then go from there. Do you have any plans to try traditional any time soon?
Wow. Gee. Good heavens. After reading that, I can only nod with wide eyes and hope my ear-splitting grin can convey my agreement. You know, if the writing thing doesn’t work out, you could always become a preacher. Or a missionary. You’re positively amazing with words, and, well, most people these days wouldn’t be so expressive of their faith, let alone in such beautiful terms. And so many of our generation are led astray to the point that they have no idea what they believe, if they believe anything at all. So is it enough to say that I am very much impressed?
Your cookie looks nervous? All right, now I’m confused.
What? You’ve yet to fully flesh out your detective? The most important character, aside from the murdered and the murderer? Have you at least a name? And a favorite drink? Most detectives like coffee, you know. It’s such a good stimulant for late night deducing.
Well… *sniffles, rubbing her eyes* It’s not too incriminating, I suppose. Just a custom-made lighter with my father’s name on it that he would use for his cigars. And an empty bottle of brandy, both stashed in the room I’d been staying in, which just so happened to be on the exact story the fire had first started. And, unfortunately, they found out that my ex’s new girlfriend was also staying there that night, only several doors down. And there were several eye witnesses, stating that I’d been pacing up and down the hallway all night, taking a swing from the bottle before splashing it on the carpet. Then, someone swears that I’d lit a cigarette while standing directly in front of the other girl‘s door. So…I don’t know. I mean, if you happened to have a spare million laying around, I’d appreciate it. Or, you know, proof that I wasn’t drinking or smoking, neither of which I do, mind you, that night. Either one would work.
Yeah…I think we’ll just stick with Leon and Grace, if you don’t mind. (Grah, really? What, are you from the ‘hood or something? Do I look like a gang member to you?)
Well, I end up time-travelling after a horrific break-up in the year 2031, so we are only twelve years apart at the time of our marriage. (Yeah, I definitely don’t like this story.)
24? Man, I’m gonna have to stop telling people my actual age if they keep thinking I’m in my twenties. Yes, I’m only fifteen, believe it or not. I use the “college student” thing in my bio to be ambiguous about my age, even though there are other places that say I’m 13, 14, whatever. Which, I mean, it was true at the time that I wrote it, since I was actually taking some college classes last year and took this year off and, yeah, pretty much everything I said that didn’t have to do with Mitch and the kids. I’m not a complete liar, you know.
A thirty-year-old from Maine? Yeah, that would be weird. And I happen to use weird more than pretty much any other word. In fact, it’s a household word in my family, so it doesn’t bother me any. Did you know, though, that weird originally meant “one who can control fate”? So, in a way, the everyday usage is weird, considering the original meaning.
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@leon-fleming I just realized that you’re not much older than me. So…yeah, I thought that you were at least 17-18 yourself. (Since I knew you were high school age. You do sound like you’re in your twenties yourself.) Talk about preconceived notions, right?
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