Monday, November 28, 2005

You were my shelter from the pouring rain, you were my comfort even before the pain

A while back I made a stupid post about rudely answering my Bluetooth device. First, I must say that I'm often annoyed by how rude people are with their mobile phones. Often. So, on the day I posted that, I was taken aback when the rude guy was me. I was working outside in the yard and had stopped to talk to my neighbor. I have one of those Bluetooth earpieces and had it in my earhole at the time. It rang. I answered. The look on my neighbor's face must have mirrored the one I've given people a hundred times. You know, the people who talk loudly right next to your table at a restaurant and the people who drive stupidly because they can't do two things at once and the people who answer the phone during a seminar or a meeting or in the fucking toilet. I was them to her. She was right. I was wrong. My sister was on the line, though. She's my baby sister, but she's like a lifeline to me sometimes. She knows me like no one else. She gets me. I think she may have known I was gay before I did. We talk all the time. That little earpiece has been great for that. I can clean and cook and pay bills and iron and yeah, maybe pee while we talk. Or not talk. You do that? We'll just be on the line, silent. I'm doing something. She's doing something like maybe feeding her kid (or nursing in the old days). No talking sometimes. For a long time. So I picked sissie over my neighbor, like a schmuck. I needed to talk/not talk, as we do. Anyway, after I was rude with the Bluetooth, I restyled it into a post where I justified answering when I may have been boning some dude. Almost no responses from y'all. Why am I telling you this now when the post died a just and natural death? For one, I'm blessed to have the sisters I have, always there to provide comfort and shelter. My love for them is unparalleled. Second, that post was misinterpreted by one kind soul and for the first time that I know of, this weightless fluff called Pipedreams hurt someone. Kills me. I may talk tough at times, but please know that I'm innocuous. I mostly aim to please. Also? I'm blunt and rarely oblique. No need for inference. Sorry. That's all, then.


The Other Andrew said...

Awww, we all know what big old softie you are. I think there's a big kind heart in that manly chest of yours. (Not to mention the intellect behind the fivehead.)

BTW. Was it ever confusing when you were younger, that both you and your sister were called 'sissie'? Baddum, dum, tish!

See how I can give with one hand, and smack down with the other? I'm complex.

Michael said...

Well, I'm a big old softie, but also big and hard as a rock.

Huh, guess I'm complex, too.

Bodhi said...

Well, I'm a big old softie, but also big and hard as a rock.

[Tries to shake mental image from my mind]

Hmmmmm. Never any doubt, sweetness


Michael said...

I'm all about the dichotomy. Pain and pleasure. See, there's another one.

luscious loulou said...

You're killin' me, Michael! We all know that you are hard on the outside with a salty, sweet toffee coating but with a delicately fragrant & delicious dark chocolate nutty centre.

You are a sweetheart and I’m bare-boned and crazy for you, but not in a, you know, stalker way.

Umm also … “Sorry I called you a shallow, youth-obsessed, prancing cabaret queen.”

luscious loulou said...

And also again, to add.... I, sadly, do not know of this nontalk/talk thing you have with your sisters. Although, it is something I look forward to having someday with someone.

Just a small dream I have. ::sobsniffsigh::

Judy: I know I'm different, but from now on I'm going to try and be the same.
Howard: The same as what?
Judy: The same as people who aren't different.

Michael said...

“Sorry I called you a shallow, youth-obsessed, prancing cabaret queen.”

You didn't call me that. ;-)

You are too sweet and too generous in your estimation of me.

Now I'm wishing I really did come with a salty, sweet toffee coating, though, cuz I'd be deelicious.

Bareboned and barefooted crazy for you, too, madchen.

It is a nice thing I share with my baby sister. We grew up so close and we may not talk for weeks, but then for hours at a time. It always feels the same.

Jordan: "Why are you like this?"
Angela: "Like what?"
Jordan: "Like how you are."
Angela: "How am I?"