I have an alter ego

Her name is Faith. Faith Singer. She was loosely born out of a book by the same name, a protagonist, ditto. (By Rosie Scott, an Aussie author, a cracking read) the fictional Faith was this older matronly woman who ran a bar and nurtured street kids in Kings Cross, Sydney. I loved her because she was kind, and dished out her copious bosom by the ladle. Kids from all over came to hide in the crevices of her chest, of her house. She was also an old soak, an unfulfilled artist, a singer past her prime who never really believed she had what it took when clearly, no one else would have thought that.

When I first joined the pink sofa ((my all female virtual playground) I was thinking of opening a bar in Sydney. The reason for joining was to research the whims and fancies of Sydney's lesbian community to create the perfect place for them to play in. Faith Singer seemed a sudonym that matched that ambition, a bar owner in sydney, a cool woman who made a difference, a role model I could emulate, albeit fictional. The bar dream died, in that particular incarnation, although it lives on in the 'later, not too much later' section of my life plan. Faith Singer grew regardless.

My Faith is not matronly, she's an out there brunette version of myself, only an extension of the bits I would like to extend, a retraction of most loathed flaws. Self doubt is banished for example. As are diets, she never needed them.
My faith is not an a wanna be artist, she's a fully functioning creative machine.

She slips between the cushions of the sofa, pops up in chat rooms, makes it her mission to make people laugh, get to a whole host of strangers playing games, even when their day has been on the rough end of rubbish.
She's all the things I love about myself and more. She dresses in 1950's burlesque fashion. Silk gloves with matching stockings. Feather Boas and dresses that reveal nothing but the best bits. Veiled hats and pre-Philip Tracey inspirations. Naturally, she doesn't take too long throwing the perfect outfit together.

She collects a boho arty crowd, writers, musicians, divine dinner party hostesses.
She's empathatic without being too battle scarred in the process. Lighthearted even when glum, Playful, regardless of climate.

I bring her out only on the sofa, she passes round tiny dark chocolate truffles and fluffs up cushions for all the newcomers.

She's gregarious and entertaining, outrageous but never offensive, inclusive, but definitely discerning.

She's my role model for the day I open my bar cum music venue.

She's the person I take out to play when work has swept over my social life and the internet the only option for a entertaining half an hour.

She oscillates breezily between deep and frivolous.
I'm working on getting her out of the virtual and into the real world.
I Hope you'll meet her some day. I think you'd like her