The following is a fictional story written for Write on Edge.
Jane packs her bags and head for the beach. Two glorious weeks...days spent lying in the sun and dancing the nights away. You see, Jane is plain. Jane works long hours as a waitress, saving for her annual trek to the sea.
Here she becomes Janet. Janet is cute, fun loving and carefree. "It's amazing what adding a "t" to your name can do for your confidence" she said to herself. Free from the waitress uniform, the pony tail and name tag..."Jane".
Janet settles into her lounge chair, with her music and and an ice cold Diet Coke in her hand. "Life is good" she sighs. As she slathers on suntan oil, from several chairs away she hears, "Can I help you with that?"
It's the blond, beach bum surfer dude she'd seen earlier. "That would be great, thanks! By the way, my name's Janet"
Jane would never do that; Janet does.
They chat for a while and it turns out the surfer dude is actually a trust fund kid. Richard G. Harding, III, but more commonly known here at the beach as Rick. He, too, has a double identity. He desperately wants to shed his rich kid persona while Janet is trying to escape her dull life as a waitress. Often times people want what someone else has - those with straight hair want curly, brunettes want to be blond, you know that whole "grass is greener" thing.
"I know a great club where they have an awesome DJ and the best margaritas in town, if you're interested" Rick invited.
Again not something Jane does. She gets off her shift at the diner, goes home and watches reruns until she falls asleep with her cat. Dull!
Janet, however, responded with an enthusiastic "I'd love to! I am staying at the Windsor, room 423."
Rick and Janet danced the night away on a sea of margaritas, and then talked until the wee hours exchanging phone numbers, email addresses and friending each other on Facebook.
That night Janet found something that had been missing for a long time. She found the real Jane.
After meeting Rick and rediscovering herself, she legally changed her name to Janet, since Janet helped her find herself. They are now married and live at the beach. Rick still surfs but Janet is no longer a waitress. Both have found their greener grass.
To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly. 
One night as Gerald sat on the porch watching the sun set over the garden, he paused to take note of how well the yellow roses were doing. He had taken quite well to the slower paced life here in Louisiana. He'd gotten on with a design firm in New Orleans and worked most days from his virtual office. On evenings like this he would sit and tell his mother all about his life and his latest project on the house. Of course, had anyone seen and heard the conversation, they would say "poor Gerald, talking to himself again." 
The sun stopped shining?
