got some interesting news last night for the Paseo people.  Ed and Mandy have signed a lease on 1,300 square feet at the south end of the street and will open an eatery with pizza and beer, vegan plates and other goodies.  It’s hush-hush about the name of the new place, but it’s supposed to open around Sept., if I recall what Ed told me.

Watermelon Slim was loud and proud at the GSpot last night, but my own best moments were in the back patio at Isis, almost deserted and out of the wind but still with a strong blues beat from Slim and the Workers next door.  Oz and Deb, Rachel, the lovely Juliet and I wasted away some time rather pleasantly back there while the GSpot smoking crowd fought for space on the sidewalk.  Caught Jenny W, spouse Frank, Mabry O, and others celebrating the 21st  (hmmm.  maybe a later version of 21, I”m not real sure)birthday of Gail Sloop, who assures me she’s happy to finally get legal.

As usual, it was a blessing for me to get to spend some time with Lucky.  Sure wish our craziness matched instead of clashed, but that’s the way of the world.

Saw my hero, Mike Mutt, having a few with friends on the sidewalk, so it must have been the place to be and I was glad to be there with all the other cool people.

I understand I missed a good time at Red Cup listening to Terry Purcell play guitar and gossip with Kat’s Mom and MCARP, but I was busy a little north of there telling a long story about my drinking days and my sober days that followed and how they compare.

tiny nina took a pass on my activities last night so she could go to a Hornets game, but I’ll catch up with her tonight.

I thought I’d have some good fun with DeShan yesterday afternoon.  We’d made elaborate plans for a “kidnapping” and I took the time and effort to gather a film crew and props and get all dressed up and we got the director, cinematographer and me all over at her studio at the appointed hour and … and … no DeShan.  Called, no answer.  Knocked, no answer.  Finally got her on her cell phone and she was down in Norman.  “I forgot,” she told me.  when I say John X was vexed, it’s my own understated way of stating what was the obvious.  In the end, it was just Lisa being Lisa and I was satisfied because I got her to promise to make the next appointment include filming some nudity.  A Sweet Potato Queen promise?  Stay tuned.

dinner for 10 last night at Irma’s deck was pretty cool from my perspective because Sonic Sharon brought her son, Cole, who was a student at HH when I taught there.  He’s grown into a fine looking young man.  Tall Ed and Book’emDanO shared the Corona beer special and the rest of us had varied dishes, including my catfish blue plate special, some burgers and a chicken, peppers and avacado sandwich the lovely Juliet had recommended.  Aside from all that, the onion rings are killer.

UCO’s Kathleen was at the Paseo festivities before dinner, but said she had a date and didn’t tag along.

I need to make a very small confession here.  Sometimes, late, I go out to Lake Hefner to get a whiff of humid air and taste the winds from the south and see the water.  It tends to calm me, somehow.  It seems to make me feel connected to the earth, sky and water.  It doesn’t matter, but I like it and it’s something I do.  Anyway, the moon’s been full lately and it shines in a lovely way across the water.  Last night’s moon was occluded by clouds, but it was still plenty bright to see wind-pushed waves lap onto the dam.  Last night, the winds were strong enough to make whitecaps.  I love the sound of the water when it’s up enough to intimate the ocean.  Last night, it seemed to wash away at least some of my worries.  I spent almost all day yesterday with friends, all last evening certainly.  when I got to the lake last night, I felt like a very lucky man, maybe even the most lucky guy in Oklahoma City, if not the whole world.  Sometimes, I get oppressed by the common irritants of life, but I felt caressed by friends and life itself last night at the lake. 

Speaking of friends, I need to use just a sentence to say “thank you” to the Pink Lady for being a friend.  Glad you’re back from Montana, now shut up and sell me some of those cigarets in the green box. Let me also say thank you to the lovely Juliet and Lucky, who both came to see me speak last night.  It was comforting to see you there.  Finally, let me say thank you to SuzArt for being a friend today. I know I can always count on you to be a wise and caring counselor and friend and you didn’t let me down. Suz, you are a treasure.

Just to make all y’all jealous about my speed racer jet lag playboy life, let me tell you that my plans for this evening are to read a book and listen to Mozart.  I’m not expecting company of either gender and, if God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world, I’ll be in bed asleep before midnight.  Whew!  Where’s the Page 6 strong arm gossip columnists when something really momentous is going on?

Last night was a terrific Paseo dinner and movie night in my book.  For one thing, the weather was lovely as evening fell over my back patio and Oz, Deb, The Gary, Suz and I enjoyed watching Oz play with the BB pistol, seeing Sinatra in his element, and talking over politics and gossip while drinking strong black coffee and smoking those nasty cigarets.

Dinner at Iron Star, table for 10 that included the above as well as Kat, Kat’s parental units, Book ‘em DanO and MCARP, was made all the more wonderful by seeing Derrick and Ralph sucking up some half price wine.  The Morgans sat in the front window and dined as a couple, but the appropriate pleasantries were passed.

The movie last night was “Me and You and Everyone You Know,” a very sweet and quirky indie film written and directed by the “star”.  I liked it and recommend it.

Saw DeShan late in the evening on Paseo with her friend Bart.  She insists on being kidnapped again Friday, complete with being bound and gagged and I’m going to accommodate her if I possibly can.  Even going to try to talk John X into filming the event.  She’s such a complete goofball and I mean that in the most affectionate and nice way.

My friend Lucky is back in town and I can’t wait to hear about her adventures in Texas.

Got a piece of fanmail on MySpace from a woman in Enid who says she likes my short stories.  Maybe I will do what Suz demands and “write the book” if you get nice fanmail.  Of course, there’s also the chance I’ll get bad reviews and that will make me suicidal.  All these two-edged swords one encounters in life.  It can be so confusing.

Tomorrow is Passover for our Jewish friends, Good Friday for our Christian friends and my speaking engagement at the Western Club for our recovering friends.  The rest of you can have a beer and relax after a hard week.

I’ll be glad for Easter this Sunday so I can start wearing my white pants.  Now if I can only remember not to wear my black undies with the white pants … talk about your obnoxious VPL (visible panty line)!

TTFN!

I spent a big part of last night reading a book — some mind candy, a psych mystery by J. Kellerman called “Therapy”.

I’ve been driving myself batty over money lately, and it was a cheap evening.

Without boring you about my personal finances, I have a problem lots of folks have when they own their own business.  I make the money, but it doesn’t always come in on my timetable.  there are really tight months and then there are months when I’m flush and this is one of several months in a row that have been tight.

Part of that is my own fault.  I screw around and do other things when I should be working.  I blog when I should bill, for example.

I’m not very good at the business side of my business.  I hate sending out bills because that’s boring.

So, anyway, i’m thinking about how many people out there must have the same problem I do.  Folks who work on commission, own their own home computer-based business, anyone who doesn’t have a steady paycheck.  I’m thinking that the norm — a steady paycheck — isn’t the norm now the way it once was.  We’re a service based economy and there are fewer and fewer factory-type jobs where you show up 9-5 and punch a clock.

What with April 15 showing up any day now, folks are worried about paying taxes and the IRS gets preferential treatment because they are the biggest and baddest ass creditor you can have this side of the knee breaking Mafia.

My clients are busy getting the tax man off their backs instead of paying me and they might also just not have received a bill from me since I’m so bad at sending them out.

Even though I’m smart enough to know better, I also make the problem worse during the months when I’m flush because I should set some of the money back for these rainy days and what I do is run out and treat myself because it’s been so tight during the past few slim months.

Again, I don’t think I’m the only one.  I think I’m in a growing minority.

But it sure feels damn lonely and guilty when I’m looking at the pile of bills and it’s the middle of the month and I can’t pay them all and I’m worried sick about my credit and my flaws and I get overwhelmed and feel helpless and powerless and … and … I WANT MY MOMMY!!!

Damn hard to type the blog when you’re sobbing uncontrollably and having a temper tantrum.

So, anyway, it’s a problem and I’m struggling with it, but the reason why I’m writing about it is this:  if this is a problem for me and I’m not the only one and there’s lots of folks out there like me, it’s also an economic opportunity for someone.

I believe there’s a need and a demand for a flexible credit system that takes into account people who make pretty good money, just not on a schedule.  I believe the beancounters will never think of a solution to this because they are just too linear in their thinking.

I don’t pretend to be a good enough business person to figure this out, but someone will.  I just want to get in on the ground floor since I think it’s a very big opportunity.

Credit for the childish and stupid but basically honest person.  Where’s Adam Smith’s Hand of God making the capital markets fair when you really need it?  Probably the same place it went in the late 19th Century during the age of the Robber Barons.

Come to think of it, with the billionaires piling up and the poor getting poorer, this just may be the second coming of the Robber Baron era.

Damn that William Jennings Bryan.  Here we are being crucified on crosses of Eastern Banker silver and the bastard is dead and gone.  The robber barons launched a period of imperialism by America (the Spanish-American war and “big stick” diplomacy in south and Central America).  All that was to divert us at home from the fact that Carnegie was killing workers at the Homestead Steel mills.  Eventually, we got Wilson and the progressive era.

Damn, I hate knowing my history and seeing it be repeated.

TTFN

I had the most awesome musical moment of my life last night at Rococo.

It was the celebration of Shy Oren’s graduate recital on the double bass.

All kinds of musical friends showed up and played with Shy at Rococo.

Among his friends who showed up and played was Adam, a classical guitarist from Isreal.

Oh. My. God.

Carter Sampson, a damn fine musician herself and who comes from a musical family, sat and watched open mouthed at the display of virtuosity.  Her comment was that she would go home and smash all her guitars because there was no hope she could ever play that well.

I hope and pray she meant that metaphorically and not literally, but I understood what she was saying.

It wasn’t just Adam, as wonderful as he was.  Various vocalists, trumpets, keyboardists, flautists, drummers joined in for a jam that went from about 9 p.m. to shortly after midnight.

It was absolutely magical.

The place was packed and there were moments when members of the audience would spontaneously jump up and applaud.

You, my faithful readers, know me as the dawg I can be.  There were just oodles of good looking women dressed hothothot and the music was too good for me to pay any attention.  Well, OK.  I paid attention to the lovely Juliet.  Aside from that, however, it was really about the music.

One of the greatest things about a musical evening like that is that it allowed me to be in the moment.  For once, I wasn’t thinking about my wretched past and my catastrophic future.  I was able to just be there and enjoy.

An Isreali whose name I can never remember sang Edith Piaf’s La Vie en Rose and it would have brought tears to the eyes of a hard bitten soldier of fortune.  I danced with the lovely Juliet to Carter Sampson’s rendition of Etta James’ At Last.  It seemed as if we had always been in each others’ arms, dancing rhythmically, as if the moment would never end and had always been.

It’s the reason I go out and don’t watch television.  Don’t bother to tell me you watched The Ten Commandments last night since I watched a real miracle happen before my eyes.  The transportation of human beings to another place by the strumming of strings and the pounding on stretched hide.  No CGI involved.

I have never seen nor heard another human being play the guitar as well as Adam and I attended Segovia’s concert at Civic Center Music Hall.  I’m telling you, it’s perfection.  He will be playing his own senior recital at OCU on the 24th FOR FREE! 

I likely should pause here to mention for the sake of the ladies that Adam is about 6’4″ with light complexion and black black black hair.  He looks like a god.  The next time you hear about him, I expect he’ll be an international star with bodyguards and an entourage.  He is that good and that good looking.

And as long as I have a memory, I will remember when …

late and soon

getting and spending

we waste our lives

Workers of the world, UNITE!  You have nothing to lose but your chains.

We won’t be fooled again.

No doubt the universe unfolds as it should…  Avoid vexatious people…  Go placidly amid the haste…

When the teacher is ready, the student will appear …

Judge not, lest ye be judged.

***

My goodness, but there’s a lot of crap floating around in my head.  Snippits of songs and poetry and the Bible, aphorisms, platitudes and, well, just crap.

I have a ready quote for almost every occasion.  Sometimes, I’ll say one thing and then quote something exactly the opposite the next day.

Just like the crap in my head, I sometimes just float through my life, another bit of flotsam on the river of life. (Or, am i jetsom?  Jetsons? Whatever)

This is one of those days. 

I can’t seem to focus.

Just chaired the noon meeting at the Western Club, standing in for a friend who is out of town.  I don’t chair many meetings these days, although I have done it bunches in the past.  I’ll speak Friday night.  Same deal.  Used to get called on to speak pretty regular and then not so much for quite a while.

Seems to me that a lot of things in my life are kind of floating around lately.  Everywhere I look in my life, as a matter of fact.

I can’t seem to figure out where I am and where I want to head towards.

No plans, no goals, no dreams.  Just get through today and then tomorrow and then another day.

When so many balls are up in the air, I’m not so good a juggler.  Some of the balls are dropping.  Too many to pick them up because that would just make the problem worse because if I stop juggling to pick up a ball, all the rest of the balls will fall.

My pattern is to give up and let them all fall.

Then, whine until no one wants to listen anymore.

Then, I go hunting for the balls that rolled under the couch and the ones the cat got and put in the back of the closet.

Sometimes I find them all, sometimes I find I’ve lost some balls and sometimes I find balls that I didn’t know I had because I’d dropped them sometime in the past and forgotten about them.

Now my head is full of references to cojones.  Hee hee, he said “balls”.  Obligatory Beavis and Butthead reference.

So, today is scattered thoughts with a small percentage for a reign of obstinate and tumultuous thrashing about.  Good chance for strong winds of hot air emitting from every oriface.

All you need is love.

Last night, I witnessed one of my friends with long term sobriety drinking again.

It breaks my heart.

I know where it goes from here and it isn’t good.

AND THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT BUT WATCH THE TRAINWRECK HAPPEN.

Oh, and try to stay out of the wreckage so I can be there when the dust settles.

It says in the Big Book of AA that alcoholism is cunning, baffling and powerful and that’s true.  Sometimes I think the Big Book is literally divinely inspired, like much of the Bible.  A kind of gospel for our times.

So, I’m sad about that and trying desperately not to be co-dependent, the flip side of just about every alcoholic.

Damn.  Sinatra has caught something small, likely a bug, and has brought it indoors as a trophy.  Life has a way of intruding on my depressive thoughts.

The Mighty Hunter has conquered a beetle.  Now I have to go hold his hand because he needs love, love me do and not yesterday.  I’ll get back to you when I’m back in the U.S. back in the U.S. back in the U.S.S.R.

I know y’all want to hear all the gossip and talk about Friday night gallery walk, but I’ve just got to be political and if you don’t want to read my fumings, just skip this post and I’ll write about this weekend soon.

For those of you who think they can stand another rant about Bush, read on.

This is, without doubt, the most wretched presidency in our history.

Not Warren Harding and not Andrew Johnson or Buchanan.  George W. Bush is the most wretched president since Congress was organized in 1789.

First, this man was selected by a bare majority of Supreme Court justices in one of the all time worst legal decisions in all of Anglo-American jurisprudence. 

He quickly cemented his powers by using lies, corrupt cronyism and bribery and by manipulating the natural impulse of Americans to rally in defense of their country.  Such a cynical man this is, he invented a war in Iraq based on known bullshit in order to remain in power.

He is neither compassionate nor a conservative.

He is a tyrant.  A virtual dictator who believes himself capable of doing anything he wants just because he’s been installed by others in the White House.

His attack dog, Karl Rove, is no better than Goebbles.

I’m sorry for the Nazi reference, but in this case it is plainly appropriate.

There is no area of American life that has been bettered during the past 6 years and so much is so much worse.  We have gone from the world’s hegemon and most respected great power in history to being the pariah of the international community.  Our economy has exposed monumental economic faultlines, beginning with the gaps between rich and poor.

In time, that all can be mended, perhaps, but what cannot be mended so easily is the fabric of freedom and this president has intentionally torn that fragile veil between our rights and government oppression.

The corrupt and morally bankrupt legislative leaders of his party have abandoned all pretense of governing in favor of the exercise of raw power designed to further fatten the bellies of the super-rich.

It’s disgusting.

And you and I, in the face of all this, moulder in our political graves vomiting fatalistic crap about our own powerlessness.

That’s also disgusting.

The DEA can’t keep out drugs.

Homeland Security fails to keep radioactive material from crossing our border or plastic explosive from getting on our airplanes.  No one knows what comes in and out through our ports.

FEMA’s response to Hurricane Katrina.  “Nuf said?

The CIA’s pre-war intelligence.

The emerging civil war in Iraq.

Congressmen indicted and convicted of bribery.

Crass lawbreaking for political advantage at the highest levels of the Executive Branch.

At least the fascists made the trains run on time. 

It’s the incompetence of this government that is the piece de resistance.

Considering the rank gerrymandering that’s gone on, I have little hope that ordinary democratic action has any likelihood of success.

Some other, new factor must be introduced.

I don’t know if it’s impeachment or revolution or a general strike or what.

I don’t think it matters.

Clearly, same-old, same-old isn’t working.

A third or fourth political party?

External regime change?

Viva le Resistance!?

I think I’m starting to understand the mind of terrorists.

I feel so frustrated and powerless that I’m ready to just lash out in unreasoning anger without caring who gets hurt.

Even knowing that it’s senseless, hopeless and futile … hell, that just makes it worse and makes me want to lash out even more.

It’s a child-like temper tantrum that an adult has continued beyond the ability of the internal baby to hold its breath and pound on the floor.

If we believe that some things are worth fighting for and dying over, what are those things?

If this isn’t something that’s worth taking up arms, what is?

I’ll stop now.

Back in the 60s, we roared to a rock anthem that we “won’t be fooled again.”  but we were.  And I’m pissed about it.

Couldn’t sleep last night at 11 p.m., so I headed for the Paseo and was rewarded.

Caught some of the outdoor music from Open Mike Night at Galileo’s and it was really good.  Buffalo and Fitz were joined by Joe Baxter and eventually Tanner showed up with his double bass. Bob O was wandering around in his overalls and showing off his newest car.  Can’t wait for summer and  for the Paseo sidewalk to be full every night.

On another note, be sure and catch John X’s comment to “Scofflaw Bush” below.  Ascerbic thinker is he.  His idea of a French style general strike appeals to the romantic in me.

Paso First Friday Gallery Walk tonight.  Should be fun.

All the dust in the air yesterday has my sinus cavities in serious pain this morning.

Pink Lady sold me some of my favorite cigarets yesterday.  She’s going to Montana soon, gonna be a dental floss tycoon. 

My friend Lucky is also going out of town, to Dallas.  She got to drive a $400,000 Mercedes up to Tulsa and I was jealous.  I think she fell in love with a machine.

Checked in with the lovely Juliet and she was more gorgeous than ever and you could tell by the 8 men she had sitting in her thrall around her one table. Cheeky flirt.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned Bookemdano’s newest effort, a red macaw in stained glass that just knocked me out it was so very lovely.  He says he’s going to do a series of birds in stained glass.  Lovely stuff, really really beautiful.

Odd event:  yesterday, in my travels, I passed by a little girl of about 10-12 years old who stopped me and asked me if I was famous. LOL.  Only to my mother, I told her. What an odd thing.

I’m not firing on all cylinders this morning.  Short bursts of thought is all I can manage.  If I get going, I’ll talk politics since I think this president now MUST be impeached and convicted of high crimes and misdemeanors.

post script:  forgot to congratulate blonde beauty Kelly O on the return of her stolen car.  Little damage, she said, and it was stolen by a kid, it seems. 

The New York Sun scoops the world with the revelation that prosecutors in the I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby trial allege President Bush himself authorized the leak of classified information from the highly secret National Intelligence Estimate that led to the disclosure that Valerie Plame was a covert CIA agent.  Plame was “outed” only 8 days after her husband, James Wilson, a former ambassador, accused the president of lying when he said Iraq had attempted to buy Nigerian uranium in the State of the Union Address.  Prosecutors’ court filings say Libby told a grand jury that he was told by Cheney to release the information, but that he had refused because the NIE was so secret and that the vice president later told him that the go-ahead was given by the president himself.  Libby then met with news reporters and disclosed Plame’s identity.

With this Republican controlled Congress, there will be nothing.  In the interest of the Republic in mind, this president should now be impeached for this as well as the unauthorized wiretapping of Americans’ cell phone conversations in known violation of the law.  This president has even had the gall to tell the Supreme Court that they cannot decide whether his administration is violating the law because he’s the president and he said so.  The detention of citizen and non citizen “combatants” and others in Guantanamo Bay and elsewhere across the globe — “renditions” — is such a complete fascist idea as to boggle the mind of any thoughtful believer in democracy.

I thought the news of Tom DeLay stepping down was big, but it’s small potatoes compared to this. 

I seriously believe this president should be impeached for the good of the country.  He led us into an unnecessary war based on lies he perpetuated by breaking the law and he is continuing this war in Iraq and elsewhere by diminishing the rights of us all here at home.  This is not about my disgust at the growth of the deficit that comes from his tax cuts for the rich.  This is not about my dismay at seeing programs that help common people cut so that oil, pharmaceutical, insurance and banking industries can benefit.  This is about high crimes and misdemeanors.  This man is a traitor to his country and its ideals, the highest crime any president can commit.  In the same way Bill Clinton was impeached for partisan political gain, this president will not be impeached for the same reasons by the same people. 

The tree of liberty must at times be watered with the blood of tyrants.

If we wish to remain free, we must rid ourselves of this nascent dictator.

Strong words, I realize.

But these are desperate times and they call for desperate measures.

If I knew what to do other than bloviate on this blog, I’d do it.

I had a long phone conversation last night with a friend about the friend’s current romantic relationship.  It’s not going so well.

Like all relationships, some parts are good and others not so good.  In this case, there’s one part that is upsetting, maybe a dealbreaker.

I tried to mostly listen and offer as little advice as possible.  After all, looking at my lovelife, who am I to counsel anyone else?

Fortunately, as these things go, the more my friend talked about the problems, the more the solutions came from inside and not from me or elsewhere.  Sometimes, what we need the most is the chance to articulate our own thinking — to hear the words out loud.

Relationships seem to me to be difficult under the best of circumstances.  One of the more difficult problems is letting go.  I think it’s very hard to be either the dump-or or the dump-ee.  You care about the person and you don’t want to hurt them, but the relationship isn’t working for you any more.  How do you end it?  You care about the person and want to be with them, but they don’t want to be with you.  How do you accept the end of what you want?

Very hard for me to do that, either way.  You can say I’m a Cancer and moon children get their claws onto something and won’t let go.  Of course, astrology is bullshit, but that’s nevertheless my own pattern.

I don’t think I’m the only one by any means.  How many divorces do you think I have to do before I find clients and their estranged spouses in exactly that situation?  I also read MCARP’s blog and know he’s had trouble letting go.

Others, however, seem perfectly capable of floating from one person to another without seeming to have any problem at all.

Sometimes, that seems a function of those people not being able to let go of a much earlier relationship in which they were badly hurt and they run into and out of new relationships to escape the feelings they still have about the old relationship and spread their angst to others.

Gosh, as I read that, it occurs to me that I’ve done some of that — it’s back to articulating your own problems as a way of finding your own solutions and I’ll have to think about that some more.

Anyway, this wanting to hold on and let go at the same time reminds me much of what I wrote yesterday about the congnitive dissonance I feel about intellectually rejecting the ideas of Honor, Duty, Truth, etc., as Aristotilian ideals while still feeling the underlying truth of those ideals at work in my life.

Here, you know you must move on and let go, but you just can’t seem to do it.

In this case, it’s a matter of emotional honesty with ourselves.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes it seems like my emotions have a mind and life of their own. 

They seem to come and go on their own schedules and that there isn’t much I can do about it.  Do you DECIDE to fall in love?  That just sounds yukky.

Nevertheless, I think to a certain extent we DO just that.  We have a little internal dialogue we hardly notice — sometimes it takes very little internal talk — and we “talk” ourselves into being mad, sad, in love and whatever.

When we should be letting go, what we do instead is keep the feelings alive by obsessing over them and having little conversations with ourselves that include assumptions that we don’t really believe.  An example:  I’ll just die if I can’t have HER.  Well, crap.  We won’t die.  We won’t even get sick unless we worry ourselves sick.  Eventually, there will be another HER.  Or there won’t.  We will still have jobs and bills and pets and family no matter what, so it’s not like we can’t possibly be happy without that one particular person.

Sure doesn’t feel that way sometimes.

The hardest thing for me to do in the world is not think those things to death.

Last year, I made myself absolutely miserable to the point of just wanting to die over a failed relationship.

Mostly, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I couldn’t just let it go and think about something else.

I punished myself far more than any other person in the world could punish me.

I would have preferred a hard whuppin’.  At least that would eventually be over and my wounds would heal.

Thinking myself sick over it seemed like it would never end.  And, while I don’t know about you, I can think myself into more pain than my body can feel.  If it were a physical wound, I’d just pass out and my body would take care of me that way.  Instead, my mind is capable of infinite torture.

Once you get in that pattern of thinking, it’s almost impossible to break the pattern.  The best I’m able to do is to force myself to think of other things, things I can change, things that don’t make me crazy, and eventually I can see that problem/torture in a different light.

In the case of my friend and the discussion last night, the problem is even more subtle.  The problem there is also one of timing.  Something is going on in the relationship that isn’t pleasing and is, in fact, disagreeable.  How long do you wait before you call a halt?  When does bad become bad enough and when does bad enough become too bad to keep going?  My friend has a history of sticking with relationships long after they aren’t working, at least in part because it’s so hard to say the words to someone you’ve cared about:  “honey, it’s time for you to take a long walk off a short pier.” 

Then, there’s the problem of Oklahoma City being the world’s largest small town.  If your X lives in Oklahoma County, there’s a great liklihood that you’ll run into them.  Can you be friends with someone who has hurt you badly?  Can you be friends with someone you’ve told to go take a hike? 

Being human is such a funny thing.