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Stephanie Davis

Stephanie started an illegal newspaper at her middle school called The Underground—which was printed on copy paper stapled together—thus beginning her foray into the world of publishing. She went on to be editor of her high school newspaper, worked at The Red and Black (UGA's esteemed newspaper)...

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My fantasy...

I dream of being graceful and always saying the right thing at the right time. It’s not a sexy fantasy, I admit. But I guess all fantasies can’t be lacy, with soft lighting and involve Ryan Reynolds nuzzling the nape of my neck. I see other women on the street who saunter beautifully with plenty of time to get where they’re going, dressed in impeccable clothes and not even a wisp of hair out of place. Being this woman is my fantasy. My goal. My dream.

In comparison, I am the one running down the street (perpetually 10 min late), putting on makeup as I try to walk, a messy bun slowly loosening undone as each foot hits the pavement. I drop something. Oops! I lean down to pick it up and something else falls out of my bag. It’s an important piece of paper and I go chasing it down the street in a kind of hunched over waddle. I am the Lucille Ball, the Barbara Streisand (Funny Girl-era) of the Atlanta sidewalk:

I fantasize about floating into a room in a classicly tailored shift dress with enviable shoes and all the people whispering and wondering who I am and how I got such ballet-like fluid movements. More like an Audrey Hepburn or a Grace Kelly:

If there’s anything I’ve learned from the Olympics this week, it’s visualize. Visualize. Visualize. Focus. Focus. Focus. So my fantasy, my goal is to see myself as graceful and put together. It’s a small dream, but it’s mine.

Feel free to share your seemingly odd fantasy here as well.