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Thursday, June 09, 2005

The Mystery of Clay and Emily

Mr. Clay Smith, long thought MIA, actually had just dropped his old email address without bothering to inform me... which explains why he hadn't responded to the last dozen emails that I sent him! And I thought he just hated me. We all had a lovely dinner at Carole's apartment last night delving deep into what makes relationships tick and how sensitive process-oriented people like Emily and I need to learn how to deal with reckless emotional timebombs like Clay and Carole.


The horror of flash photography is abandoned for warm blur instead

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8 Comments:

At 6/10/2005 07:31:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

"Reckless emotional timebombs"? What does that mean exactly?

 
At 6/10/2005 07:01:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

You should all be in therapy (except for Emily who seems so grounded). But wait, you are therapists and social workers...where does that leave the rest of us?!

Not Written by Emily

 
At 6/14/2005 07:30:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey, the emotional guy's gotta respond or something right? I can’t gauge the world by my whim or whimsy or how I want things to be, it’s a fusion of dancing energy Sir, and the thought of muting the brilliance of our volatile selves in a tragic compromise, makes me sort of shudder. We live in chaos, it’s only the rigidity of our daily lives that fools us into predictable routines. I guess what I’m saying is that the atoms collide they don’t curtsy politely by each like nobleman for a noble cause. Anyway, it was a sweet evening of openness, laughter, and the social glue that holds everyone together, wine. The photo holds onto the glow of our beautiful selves, sorta freezes time pleasantly, peace out!

Occasio aegre offertur, facile amittitur - Publius Syrus

 
At 6/15/2005 10:10:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

What!

Not to be a reckless emotional timebomb or sensitive process oriented person but i am going to have to object!!!

OBJECTION!

Repeat it again--did you just call your girlfriend and my boyfriend a reckless emotional timebomb???!!
Ummm, john do you think that is wise??? I didn’t hear any ticking that nite…at least not from clay or carole… i thought what we established was that clay and carole or more freely able to express themselves and that it is a beautiful thing… reckless emotional timebomb sounds like they are menacing and should be avoided at any costs…and i’ve not any plans to avoid clay anytime soon and keep thinking that carole and i should get together…are you saying i am in DANGER and should run the other way???

i may be “sensitive”…but i think there were four sensitive people sitting around that table and i think what i said was that i was non-confrontational—much preferring the honey method than any other…but where did PROCESS-ORIENTED come from???? What exactly does that mean!

my free thinking, non-boxing, ‘don’t place any wordy description on me’, WILD child rebels deeply to that confinement. please avoid such things in the future.

thanks again for the lovely evening –we should do it again soon.

emily. really.

 
At 6/21/2005 11:24:00 AM, Blogger helioshamash said...

Um, you're all foreboding!

Fames est optimus coquus.

 
At 6/22/2005 06:21:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Would you like to swing on a star
carry moonbeams home in a jar
and be better off than you are
or would you rather be a foreboder

A foreboder is a person with a sense of the bad
he speaks up about anything that’s sad
His back is brawny but his senses are keen
but mostly the saddest thing he's mistaken for being mean
and by the way if you hate to go to school
You may grow up to be a foreboder

Saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit - Cicero

 
At 6/23/2005 06:39:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

there is a haze about that photo...those two in some blissful aura. magical? yes? no?


mythical?

ahhhh, yes.

 
At 6/24/2005 07:36:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

The afterglow of the moment is always a bit hazy, it settles down into what the backward glances we give call memories, or better yet it’s the nostalgia of what makes us feel so good and hurt so bad.

"Pleasure is the flower that passes; remembrance, the lasting perfume." ~Jean de Boufflers~

 

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