Updating The List

It’s a gift when someone can read you, know you; regardless of how comfortable you are with it. Somewhere along the line I must’ve picked up the notion that it was desirable to be complex, or at least unpredictable (read: weird). And few things get under my skin like someone that knows me. Capital KNOWS. I don’t like being predictable, I don’t like being an open book. Well, tough shit. It’s just one of the romantic illusions about myself and life in general that can use some shedding…

McCall’s got my number. She’s not the only person who has it, but she’s the latest to acquire it: my number. The woman sees through me like glass; to my not-always-amused flummoxing. I like talking with people who can challenge me, who can keep me on my toes. Of course, I also like winning those little sparring matches, but that isn’t going to happen any time soon. With McCall it can be like fencing, en point. Not that I want to see ballet dancers with sharp objects, but you get my drift. Nor do I win my share of matches. But it’s good to scrap all the same.

I think what I’m trying to say is that I don’t appreciate her, like I ought to. Even when we haven’t seen eye to eye, we’ve been able to agree on points, at least. Parts of the whole. She keeps me honest. And that type of person is always good to have around.

As for the short list, the women that can shut me up… the management has made room for #5.