Giving an inch, but taking a mile...

I'm starting to feel the pinch of friendship.

Is that right? Are friendships supposed to pinch?

Or when you feel the pinch, is that an indicator that this relationship is not what it seems?

You have been waving a red flag for a while, but for the most part I was logging it in as jealousy.

Not in a bad way, but as you not liking to share time with me with somebody else.

In my life, my friends are tiered.

It takes trust and time to move from tier to tier. and I have no problem making a person start all over should they blow my trust.

I moved her up a tier and didn't get the response I was expecting.

I was willing to open up and invite her in, but it wasn't enough for her.

I'm not sure what she was expecting. Maybe something more interesting?

But I feel the pinch.

The pinch of offering more and it not being good enough.

And I find myself stressing over it and getting pissed off.

Is it that she wants it all?

That's not on the table.

Nobody gets it all.

Felt fables...

We all tell white lies. If you say you never do, you're only lying to yourself.

My favorite white lie is the one you tell to see how outrageous you can get. And to see how far you can be believed.

The boy is usually the target for these tall tales.

"Fishsticks are made of alligator. They only tell people it's fish so they'll eat them" was my favorite up until last night. But we got him to believe it for years.

Had I not blown it, he'd still believe it to this day.

Back to present day:

Dinner was normal. Talk involved sound effects, grand gestures, and body parts.

Hey, they boy is a teen and that's how they talk. I was happy for the conversation as most days I'm on the receiving end of a stink-eye.

A piece of felt was found on the floor and we pondered as from where it came.

Your answer of "my ass" made us laugh. When the boy asked you how it got in your ass, you answered (in a straight face no less) "I ate a puppet."

It was not the answer I expected. Nor could I wait to hear where this was going.

And I was in it for the long haul.

The boy paused for a moment and considered your answer.

Did I just hear the click, click, click of a fish nibbling on the line?

You stared back at hinm in that matter-of-fact way.

Click, click, click.

When the boy saw the sincerity in your face the took the bait.

"When?!" was all he asked, his voice full of concern and wonderment.

The imaginary spool on the fishing reel screamed as the question left his lips.

Gotcha!

I couldn't hold back the laughter. It burst out though the house loud and long.

The line snapped and he got away.

I know years from now I'll come upon this and read it.

And laugh again.

Pink...

It happens to be the color I'm gravitating towards this year.

I look down at my newly polished toes - which are pink - and I smile.

Maybe I've been wearing black for so long I'm ready to lighten up.

Starting with my toes.

Licked...

I had a very bad day.

Very.

Bad.

Day.

The kind of day that pushes a person beyond "bent out of shape" into the realm of "sticky meltdown."

I wanted to knock over old ladies, kick puppies, and taunt children. I was ready to sling the hairbrush, flick lit matches at innocent bystanders, and vomit.

My permanent glare was a warning sign that if I got my claws into you, I would drag you into my misery.

Because my misery loves company.

I just wanted to lash out and make everybody else feel my pain.

Fortunatly I own a game system and vented my rage that way.

My only wish was to cause mayhem in the game - which I did. And, after 2 hours I started to laugh at the havoc I had created. The more destruction I caused, the better I felt.

While the sharp edges of my rage had been softened, it didn't change the day.

Why is it that sometimes the people you're supposed to trust suck the most?

Better late than never...

It's taken me a while, but I've finally given in to welcoming the fall this year.

I'm not sure what my boggle was, but it shut out all my senses. The ones which inhale the fragrance of foliage decay.

I happen to enjoy the smell of Earth reclaiming herself.

It's damp and woodsy with a hint of chill in the air.

The leaves blanket my yard in a beautiful tapestry of yellows, oranges, reds, and browns.

The crackle of leaves beneath my feet as I shuffle through the pile makes me smile.

I grew up in an area that did not produce huge piles of leaves. There was no change of season.

Which means there was not time when the Earth shucked the dead to make room for new and alive things.

Of all the seasons time has to offer, Autumn is by far my favorite.