Aliases

So now I'm trying to think of blog aliases for my two best friends who, via email and phone calls, take up (welcomely) whole days of my time sometimes and spark the hell out of my Junior Counselor to the Free World thinking. I love these girls. Love them. Not in an omg-you're-so-fun-at-bunco-night way. I never even played bunco. Fuck bunco. Women who play bunco kind of annoy the crap out of me. If you love bunco, good for you. I'll try not to judge too, too harshly (but secretly, certainly not to your face, I will think you are less smart). I love my nameless best friends in a way that if I could make it happen, we would live on a compound together and raise our children and vegetables and laugh at how crazy we are and be comfortable knowing that there is no such thing as normal and that all the people who try to be normal and bunco-ish are way more crazy than we are. I have talked about this with them. They're cool with it. In a parallel universe our compound is the deal. There's a waiting list and an interview process.

Anyway, my girls need some nicknames. I have tasked them to come up with some. I can already tell, I'm gonna end up doing this on my own. No problem, chiquitas. I am super creative. The next astronomer is going to be super pissed though, because I'll take the names of the next two comets he is looking for. You are both brilliant, rare stars in the sky to me. Worthy of stealing comet names. I'm down with pissing off some nameless astronomer for your sake.

Non sequitur X update. He got the kids this afternoon, took them to a movie and dinner. The movie was the one that's out about the son of Poseidon or whatever. I miss movies. I probably could have gone with them, but I had 9 more pages of BHJ to go through and a two hour conversation with a significant yet nameless friend to have.

She went to therapy today, we had to hash that shit out. Actually, my other nameless friend went to therapy today too...this is going to be hard to differentiate. I really need to get these girls some names. I am not going to therapy, simply because of the insurance thing. I know I could totally use someone helping me rediscover all my flaws and point me in the right direction. Anyway, writing is my therapy for now. It is my post-New Year's-resolution, my anti-Lent activity. I'd rather not give anything up. I'm going to rekindle something instead. Convenient timing. I don't give a fuck about lent the same way I don't give a fuck about bunco. Conformist Religion is not my favorite. Spirituality, absolutely. Prescribed religion...notsomuch. Again, if that's your thing, good for you.

So, I don't have a point tonight. No revelations. I am processing. Things 1 & 2 are back home. I have to put them to bed and just chill the hell out with some Olympics or other mindless TV for a while I think. I might sneak back to BHJ. I'm in the middle of page 13. He's really cool... [dreamy sigh] if you think existential people who write things that crack your head messy open like an overripe melon are cool.