I'm near the end of my bottle of Connemara Peated Single Malt. Sometimes just sniffing it in the bottle is enough. Like sex in the nose. Some smells, remaining smells, almost become like fine food, intoxicating aroma turning to rich palate filling taste. This whiskey. The man who gave it to me.
Roller coaster seems to be slowing. A little. My stomach is calmer. Can't say I'm happy or even OK, but there are moments when I don't feel like I'm in the middle of a bad dream.
One of the major challenges for a Five like me is to let myself take emotional risks, know intimacy, experience rather than observe, let people in. Unfortunately, I think I've taken those challenges on pretty robustly! Individuation don't come cheap. I've got the scars.
Watching NCIS. I used to hate the character Kate, who came to them from White House security. Brought to mind the C-word. Was glad when Ari offed her. Now her replacement, the Israeli agent Ziva, her I like. Tough as nails, dangerous to know, with a sense of humor, a heart. And she likes men, sees them as fellow humans. Ziva is a strong woman who knows what suffering is; Kate was merely a feminist who faced opposition.
Real Housewives of New Jersey aka Vampires on Parade. (Men sleep with that?!)
A lot of animals in my house today. Sonny the old blind cat came in for his usual pet and nap. Juanita the shorn Australian sheepdog had separation anxiety and had to sit with me and whine for an hour til her master came home. Then Bill came with Mauli, Missy and Rocky in tow. Lots of dogbones and licking.
I still haven't killed the wasps.
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