Meet Ariel. She has lived most of her modest and comfortable life in an Atlanta suburb. Her parents owned a successful accounting firm, and Ariel had been trained on numbers since she was old enough to count. She had a natural ability, and was set to take on the family business once she finished her education. She had never been particularly rebellious and didn't really have any great dreams beyond what she saw as a set future within the family business, and always remaining close with her lifelong best friend, Florence. Then one night she and Florence went to see a concert someone had recommended. There she met Eric, a bassist for Fast Kitty. Fast Kitty was a rock band with a wild reputation, and a growing following. Against her better judgment, Ariel kept in touch with Eric. He was so different from her - wild, undisciplined, hedonistic in every way. It was like they were from two different worlds but she was so fascinated by him and his lifestyle that she found herself dating him before long. Florence found that Ariel wasn't returning her calls, and was never available. All she wanted was Eric, all she thought about was Eric. She began to flake on her classes, causing her grades to plummet. She was constantly fighting with her parents about her lack of focus, and her insistence on going to bad parts of town, staying out all night, and being with Eric. He exposed her to the darker sides of life that she had only seen in the movies, and she came dangerously close to becoming accustomed to them. Then one day, she found Eric in the arms of a washed-up groupie, and it was as though someone lifted a shroud from her eyes. She saw that she'd be insane to give up the lovely life she had just to be part of some man's twisted world that only looked good from the outside. Beat it, Eric. The end.
Kate runs a thriving charity benefiting the homeless and somehow has time to be a doting mother to four children. And has her yoga certification. And no chin hairs....
This is the new Amy. This Amy would never have a gross refrigerator. She's not that kind of person. She's clean, organized and fresh. She feels sorry for the people with dirty fridge shelves and expired chicken stock boxes. She can't imagine having a 2 year old jar of pepperoncini peppers with mold on the inside of the lid. That's no way to live and Amy is glad she's the right kind of person. Yesterday Amy had two bags of clothes designated for Goodwill in her dining room corner. They'd been there for 2.5 months, eventually becoming invisible.
She slithers her way in and out of friend groups, wreaking havoc anywhere she can. She told you last week how much she admires you for not caring what you look like – she “just doesn’t feel right about leaving the house“ if she’s not completely put together.