Sunday, September 25, 2005

Tramps Like Us, Baby We Were Born to Run

For all my ranting, raving, and terrorizing people with the dumb luck of being stuck in traffic near me, I am a nice person. My exes might say otherwise, but I firmly believe I'm a true friend and loving daughter/sister/mommy/girlfriend. I would not hesitate to drop anything to go to my friends' and family's aid. Sure, I constantly forget birthdays and such, but would I jump in front of a charging tiger to save Superfly boyfriend, or one of my kids, or one of my sisters? Without hesitation. In fact, a Sumatran tiger did leap across a manmade tiger habitat and crash into plexiglass just inches from my three-year old one time, and I did an unnecessary flying tackle (in 3" heels, no less), without thinking about it.

A lot of my friends are tramps like me, moving around and trying out different lives. We seem to pick right up where we left off, whenever we find each other. I've run into them at Renaissance Faires, Amusement Parks, the beach, the seat next to me on an airplane, and other unlikely reunion spots. A yelp of recognition, catching up on each other and comparing notes on spots in Europe, or on other nomads we'd run into, over drinks, and then off again. If one of them was to actually call and make plans, or call to chat, I would be extremely perplexed. This even applies to my sisters, we're just like that; if I'm there, and you're there, I'll guess I'll see ya! If I were to psychoanalyze our shared itinerant lifestyles, I'd probably learn something I didn't want to know. But, what are ya gonna do?

I have other friends who are more "high maintenance"--and I mean this in the best possible way, I promise. These are friends who call to chat about stuff on TV, make plans that they fully expect me to cooperate with, and who never forget a birthday, conversation, insult, or compliment. Knowing each of these women and men has made me a better person. It started with Rich, back in Colorado, who was so patient and kind and forgiving. He trained me to be considerate of non-tramps. Then I made faboo online friends who became so close, if they were any closer they'd be me. Slowly, I began to understand that intimacy had value outside boyfriends or husbands, and that learning to be open, giving, understanding, and forgiving can transform everything you are. In short, friends rock!

Interestingly, the friends I've made from JDate are totally high maintenance pains in the ass. And if they ever change I'll kick their sorry asses. I love every quirk and quality they possess and value their friendship like you cannot believe. You know who you are, crazy wenches and goofball dudes. I love ya! Flee JDate before you're sucked in forever in an unending converstation between NYCGal and AZGuy! Love!

My greatest friend is another JDate escapee: Superfly. Just know he's so perfect for me, it's terrifying. Also, I love him massively. He's low and high mainentance, depending. Lots of those silent understanding moments, and a ridiculous amounts of saying/thinking the same thing, simultaneously. I hope he'll always be my friend, too.

A toast of an overly-ripe Barolo to friends, low and high maintenance!

5 Comments:

Blogger LisaBinDaCity said...

Harumph, I resemble er resent that remark! And visit my blog sometime damn it :-)

8:44 AM  
Blogger Tribble said...

Harumph pa pa pum! She does visit your blog. So there!

Can I be a goofball dude too, in addition to your greatest friend? I sure hope so!

:)
muah!

10:28 AM  
Blogger LisaBinDaCity said...

OK then POST comments on my blog then damn it! And you too Tribble ;-)

MWAH to you both!

12:44 PM  
Blogger Leave It To Cleavage said...

I have no idea which category I fall into. But I'm glad that you love me just the same!! I am currently plotting my Jdate escape as well.

MWAH!!

5:49 PM  
Blogger Trouble said...

See how high maintenance you are? LB is taking offense and the Rack wonders which category she falls in. LOL!

Tribble-butt, you're everything to me, goofy.

You tarts should know better. I love you more than Kate Moss loves blowing ginormous rails.

8:45 PM  

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