What 20 years will do, if you're lucky

Girlfriend bandit, new neighbor bandits and yours truly have been doing some yard work, including building boxes and planting vegetables. Also, I bought a new jigsaw today. Let's see - can I say anything more fucking lesbian? I'm eating tempeh. There's an old cat on the couch. I should go buy an Indigo Girls CD, put it on and see if all the men on the planet disappear. Only I don't like the Indigo Girls.

New neighbor bandits are hippie chicks, young, newly in love, who like bartering and forming community, whatever that means. I think it has something to do with mowing our yard and planting some stuff here, since they live in an apartment. I told one of them today about some serious hell that broke loose this week, involving an elected official, a hijacked courtroom, suspicious motives and a day of frantic research that promises to drag on for ugly weeks ahead. She said that pain bodies attract pain bodies and there's lots of tough life experiences coming into courtrooms, which draw more bad experiences and feelings. I looked at her blankly and, with all my heart, said "what?" Speaking of bodies, she also said the other day that all bodies are beautiful. I've been to the beach. I disagree. There are some fucked up looking motherfuckers who are definitely not beautiful.

I envy them a little, though. All those positive thoughts! The idea that people are beautiful, and all good, and that it is never necessary to just beat the shit out of someone. I remember feeling a little like that, a few times in my twenties, when the drugs were right. I also know a few people over 40 who are like this, but they limit their interaction with the outside world quite a bit, and seem almost ready to float away when I try to talk to them. "Hello? Ya in there? You should listen to some Usher." I want to say. I don't, though. I just let them ramble about peace rallies and reading labels to make sure there isn't anything animal based in the vitamins or whatever. They clearly don't want to know any better, or they would.

So, I'm more than happy to share some zucchini space with these chicks, and remember what it was like to not have been robbed, ripped off, cheated on, arrested,to have comforted a molested child, punched a drunk asshole at a party, cussed out a crackhead, seen the worst and the best of humanity in myself, loved and hated, lied, fought, cried, and gotten puking drunk over a girl who wasn't worth it. In other words, to have lived. More power to them, but may they get to 40 a little worse for the wear, yet still willing to believe in themselves, humanity and each other. We should all be so lucky.