Good Friends and a Filthy Habit

Wow. One clove and a pot of wu wei and I'm loopy as hell. Here's my new favorite thing: standing on my back-alley, open-air apartment staircase landing, drinking a cup of somethin' and smoking a pretty black cigarette. The view is of...the alley, yes, but I can see Union St. and the trees over it, and I get a little strip of sky to look at, and man - nicotine makes me THINK. [For, alas, I found out that clove cigarettes, far from being just composed of cloves, have almost as much tobacco as a normal cig with some cloves thrown in there, too.] Is it the same for all you smokers out there? I get out there with a glass of two-buck-chuck, or a cup of tea or coffee and that one little cigarette and my mind goes bonkers. It's my new happy place. And I blog in my head. Now I know why writers are such champion smokers.

So, loopy. I don't know if it's cloves or tobacco (it can't be the alcohol or caffeine, because, like I said, this time it was wu wei and I'm still flying) or fresh air or WHAT, but I'm as high as if I'd taken a big hit off a pal's water bong. Mom, don't read that last bit. Seriously. I did inhale, yes, but that was the ONLY TIME. I swear. So, as you can tell, my substances, while relatively harmless (sort of harmless. Can you die from a one-clove-per-day-MAX habit?), get me feeling high and groovy and I just want to write write write about you (yes, YOU) and how much you mean to me. I swear - what a doof I am. Getting high on cloves? Cheez...

The people most responsible for my pleasures this evening?

First of all, Aly and Ash, who, while hosting Ramon and I in their beautiful California home, introduced me to the wonder of clove cigarettes, without which this long, silly, lugubrious post would not be possible. Truly - I'd say that I miss them every time I smoke one, and I do, but it wouldn't be quite accurate since I miss their company many more times than just once a day. I do miss you both - so much - out there on that breezy landing. I miss your laughs and clothes and bright eyes and brilliant ideas. And your questions about what's on my mind. Selfish me, that would be the thing I miss most about them. Just kidding.

I have Tracy to thank for the breathtaking new teapot that brewed three most excellent cups of tea. Get this (tea-philes, sit down for this one) - it's a black Brown Betty teapot. The real deal. She brought it to work today with a "pay me later" that means she'll never take money for it, never. T, seriously, you gotta let me pay. I still owe you for that esspensive glass of chardonnay at The Met and that pint of cider at Fado. I'm not kidding.

My good thoughts tonight were mostly taken up with jcarwen and yelahneb, a wonderful, wonderful couple Ramon and I met a few months ago and who continue to reveal themselves as two of the most promising friends he and I have met in a long, long time. I found them whilst trolling for fellow Seattle blogspotters (thank you, Blogspot, thank you!). Three dinners later and we're still completely in love with them. They're friendly without being creepy. Intelligent (boy howdy) without being pretentious or intimidating. Good-looking without being part of The Beautiful People that Ramon and I have zero time for. In love but not schmoopy. They're nice, they're funny, zany, normal, kind, down-to-earth, excellent-flights-of-fancy people. And did I already say they're funny? They're funny. The first time we met for dinner Ramon and I were walking home and I was chanting "Please, god, let this work out. Please." in my head. That's how cool they are.

I thought about the rest of you, too, but the buzz has worn off and now I'm ready for bed. Love to my friends - Jill, thank god you're getting help for that neck thing. I hate to think of you hurting. Dad, you're beautiful body and soul. Don't let the dickheads tell you otherwise. Nathan and Elizabeth, my best friends. How I love you. Peanut, have you learned how to laugh yet? I can't wait to see what kind of sense of humor you'll have. Mindy, time for another two-way-rant, don't you think? And last but never least - Momlies. I'm still walking around flattered as anything that you consider me a best friend. You're the finest human on the planet.

And Ramon - you gonna call me or what? When are you coming home? Quit sweeping the gallery floor and come home to your lovin' woman.

Cerise