Sunday, March 16, 2008

What colour is the smoke you're blowing up my ass?

I'll take pink with a shaker of purple, please.

Sometimes, I can be surprised.

Rarely have I been surprised by the worst of what people can do to each other ... or what Mother Nature can do to us. It comes from standing outside one too many murder scenes, attending one too many funerals and reading one too many wire stories about this, that or the other natural disaster/war scene/motor vehicle accident.

I have this lovely switch in my brain that turns me into a reporter. Facts first, emotions later. My shrink, two years ago, called it 'vicarious trauma.'

Fun ... it means I have an 'inability to tolerate strong emotions' and a 'diminished interest in or capacity to enjoy significant activities.'

I'm a bystander. I like to watch people. I enjoy observing their interactions with each other ... rarely ever taking the risk of immersing myself in such interactions. The phone rings and I let it go to voice mail.

Now, come on ... that doesn't mean I'm some kind of agoraphobic reclusive, hiding in my apartment away from the world.

In fact, I have wonderful friends. They are people who understand me. Those who appreciate we don't need to spend a lot of time together ... that quantity is better than quality.

And sometimes I outgrow people ... they start to bore me, or frustrate me, or darken the skies over my head. They attempt to control under the guise of 'help' -- a desperate attempt to wrest control of their own lives.

Yet, others grow on me. Time spent many years ago may not have been quality but they remain tied to my life forever.

Out of the blue, I gained such quality time this weekend. A funny, outspoken, cheerful, caring woman is a bigger part of my life today than she was three years ago and I am grateful.

I hope that as a part of my life, she will bring with her two other young women. And bring back one very special man.

The smoke she's blowin' comes from a peace pipe.

And my heart rests happy tonight.

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