11:34 p.m. | 2004-05-04 Life Is Circular. It Has Rings. Truly. It�s only when you get to the other side that you realize that, of course. Not that I know where �the other side� is, and not that it really exists. Well, outside of my other set of books. Then, there are different dimensions, time continuums and that whole alien thing. However, I�m not talking about those nether kind of rings. I�m talking about more familiar rings. Like, gatherings, sufferings, and blatherings. Heh. They are all �rings�. And, we are talking about life, right? See, I get those rings more often than the other kind. Just saying. That said, this is a blathering. Just to be clear. To bring (heh) it full circle, this diatribe actually also harkens back to other gatherings and sufferings. It�s all about the rings. Is that my phone? Anyway, if you�re a very dedicated reader � or a stalker � you might, perchance, remember that I once had it in my head that a particular mortuary was a restaurant. And, if you�re that dedicated, I LOVE you. Not so much if you�re a stalker though. That was back when I was 12 and we had just moved to a new place. It seemed like a really ritzy restaurant because the building was fancy, had an awning-covered walkway and only displayed its name on the canvas, or whatever, awning. No neon sign there. Yes, I was born in a barn. They call it a hospital now, but you and I both know it was really a barn. Okay, an animal sanctuary if you prefer. Leave me be while I chew on a piece of hay. Seriously, I didn�t know. I came from a place where mortuaries proudly displayed their trade. The understatement was lost on me originally, but by 12 and, say about 3 months, I knew since I walked past it frequently to visit my best friend. Just for the record, the Grim Reaper is NOT MY BEST FRIEND. Nor has he ever been in my best friend mix. HE'D like you to think that, and yes, I have written him letters, made some hellish deals with him and whatnot, but he�s NOT MY BEST FRIEND. He makes me ramble too. By 13 years of age though, I knew. I knew that the �fancy restaurant� was a mortuary. Posing as a posh place. Of course. Unfortunately, I discovered that at my first boyfriend�s funeral. Motorcycle accident actually. He was 14 at the time, and not wearing safety gear. Or chaps. Not that it mattered in the end. It was sad though. No one wants to see their first boyfriend in a coffin. Well, I mean, I can�t speak for the rest of the, um, world, but that wasn�t so great for me. Not that we really had a �relationship�. I think you know what I mean. It was more of a �hand-holding�, sweet boyfriend kind of thing. The second time I went there was just last Thanksgiving. For the funeral of my ex-brother-in-law. Really, it�s first rate. As a mortuary, not a restaurant. Just to be clear. However, I didn�t appreciate that fact when I was 13. How did this entry get so morbid? Oh yeah. We went to lunch at a place in my old neighborhood, in MyTown not ENTown, that�s quite established and good. It�s always been highly recommended. And, I�ve avoided it like the plague because it looks like the �mortuary� in ENTown. So, we went there today. Ironically, it�s a fancy, expensive and classy restaurant, yet it was full of flies. Inside. NewBoss and Colleague were disturbed by that, however, I wasn�t. Mostly, because I know what�s happening � in the insect world � in MyTown right now. There are bugs everywhere. We�ve had unseasonable weather, and we have bugs galore. Actually, the flies in the restaurant weren�t really bothering anyone outside of NewBoss and Colleague, and that was only because they kept waiving their arms around. Knowing that these flies were close to death � not from experience, just from reading the paper � I pointed out, several times, that, if left alone, they�d just sit there all lethargic. Seriously, they didn�t even come close to any food or anything. Well, except when NB and C got all arm wavy. Even then, the flies took pains to stay away from the food. One sat so consistently on NB�s shoulder that he named him Chip. When I noted the resemblance, he re-christened him Mini-Me. In NB�s defense, he did apologize many, many times � too many times � about flies being IN the restaurant. I understand that, but find it funny that none of us are put out about flies when we eat outside. Of course, normally, flies inside would be a cause for concern, but we�re experiencing a fly problem at the moment. Actually, like I said, we have a bug problem right now. It�s seasonal. They�re everywhere. But, you have to give me credit somewhere � well, you don�t, but feel free to � because I held my tongue while eating in a �mortuary� restaurant while NB pondered the question of whether or not flies "really like him". You know, flies like us all. Especially when we�re done eating. They like us so much, they entrust us with their young. In fact, they bring life around, like a ring, full circle. Well, and they create a mini-me too. Excuse me while I shwoosh down Satan�s slide. Maybe, just maybe, we are best friends. I better note that in my book. I mean, my other book. And, perhaps� you should jot that down too. your thoughts? seed flower