Sugar Sweet

J and I talk on the phone atleast an hour every day when we're away. Often late at night or early at dawn. A compensation for the lack of physical intimacy.

At first this annoyed the hell out of my roommate. Her new job had forced her to become an early bird, and listening to me giggling on the phone at two in the morning didn't help. Lately she had developed an immunity. Or perhaps because I don't giggle as much?

Our phone conversations have very limited subjects. Daily activities, health and well-being, the house, the dogs, some gossips we share, small remarks of love--yes, the cheesiest the better, and food.

I can't say I understand J well, or if he had been able to read me between the lines fluently. I sometimes worry about this, and then reminding myself; my parents had been together for 28 years and they don't understand each other. So, what the hell, yeah! Am taking my chances. Life is about chances. And choices. And craps like "You make your own happiness", "A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down", and "Pot of gold at the other end of the rainbow".

party!