Kathy, I'm lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping.

Thinking about this, boomerang, as I sing to myself:


Michigan seems just a dream to me now ....


(hope I got that right!)

Toss me a cigarette, I think theres one in my raincoat, msolga.

I'm still working through my story. This girl I've come to know is making me believe in things I never really believed in before. It's very strange and.... strangely comforting to talk to someone who seems to understand things without having to have explainations.

We smoked the last one an hour ago ...


Interesting, boomer, please continue ...

Yes. It has happened twice in my life so far.

One was my first love. There was some sort of psychic connection there. Even eight years after we broke up, he always knew what was going on inside my head without my telling him. It was spooky.

The other was my mentor. He has always understood what makes me tick. Even when I didn't understand it myself. We are still the best of friends.

Yep, I love it when it happens. Miss neighbors/ friends from Naperville for that reason... so many times that I'd start struggling through some vague idea (usually parenting-related) to have it picked up with EXACTLY where I was going, thought I didn't even necessarily know it yet.

Happening to a lesser extent with the mom of sozlet's best -- er, since we're trying to get away from "best", very good -- friend.

Mostly happens with people I'm talking to in person, but my best friend is in Africa right now, and very busy, and email communication is less frequent than usual. I had a dream about her, and woke up, and sat down at the computer to check email, and of course there was a long message from her -- first in a couple of months.

Oh and I never flee. I always say "yay!" and they become even better friends.

Strange, I'm often told that I'm the mind reader.

Whoops! I think I just killed the conversation!
Sorry!

Your mind-reading abilities must be on the fritz tonight, msolga...you didn't kill the conversation!

Thank you, Eva, thank you! :wink:

I said "be careful, his bow-tie is really a camera".

Thank you Eva and Soz for getting the ball rolling. I'm glad to know that I am not alone in this..... feeling.

I will have to tell my story in installments.

Every day, for the last week or so, at about 2:00 I open my door. Within a few minutes a big brown dog walks in, sniffs around, goes into the garage for a drink of water, locates the cat, and goes on point.

By this time, his owner has come in too.

Without fail, "Kathy" apologizes for "Joe".

And, without fail, Kathy and I start to visit.

Kathy is an interesting girl. Before last week I really only knew her from seeing her around the neighborhood. The day I met her though, we discovered that both of our dogs suffered from the same, very, very rare disease.

What are the odds of that!?

My dog has since died. Joe, the dog's presence is really kind of comforting. My door is always open for Joe. He likes to come here and I like him to be here. Even Bird, my dog, and Biscuit, my cat, love Joe - - even though he points at them.

As some of you know, my father died from early onset Alzheimer's disease and Mo has some crazy brain wiring of his own. My hobby is reading about brain research. This has been my hobby for at least 10 years.

Kathy is a survivor of a traumatic brain injury. She did indeed come back from the dead and lived to tell the tale.

And now she "sees" things.

And some of the things she sees are about me.

I'm empty and aching ...and I don't know why.....

And, yes, there is that, BPB.

So I looked at the scenery....

You could pitch these three lines to any producer in Hollywood and get signed to a contract.

Joe(and,,,)Nation

She read her magazine ...

Oh! can you tell us what "things" she sees about you?

Joe is right. I am sitting on the edge of my seat, boomer.

a big fat bm

When I say that Kathy sees things I don't mean that she sees the future or that she has vision.

Although she does have some prophetic dreams.

And she says she sees ghosts but not "movie ghosts".

Kathy's accident happened half her life ago. The damage to her brain was so profound that she lost every sense but touch. Everything was wrecked, says she, but her feral little "dog brain" and it went to work trying to fix things.

Her body was brusied but not broken from the accident; all indications showed that it would work just fine if her brain could tell it what to do. Her brain started remembering basic things like: move and make noise.

Before long, relatively speaking, her brain remembered how to do more things, the normal things we all take for granted, but it never has remembered how to make her cry.