Peace and Noise

Why do people always say they want some "peace and quiet"? What is wrong with peace and noise? I've been experiencing quite a bit of both lately.

After things went south with Clayton, I took refuge in the peaceful friendship I have with Auburn Pisces. I began spending lots more time at her house. Although I'm sure the wild energy at home drives Aub crazy, I appreciate the chaos of a typical night at her house. It must be very hard for Auburn Pisces to stay calm, cool and collected as she attempts to raise two kids. The two kids I'm referring to are Auburn Aries, age 8, and Thor, age 34. Thor rents the downstairs living quarters from Auburn Pisces. Auburn Aries and Thor are quite a crazy duo, and I find comfort in talking with Auburn Pisces as her kid runs around the house being chased by Thor.

A peaceful home is not always a quiet home. Last night was noisy. Thor was so worked up he had sweat covering his shaved head, and he teamed up with Auburn Aries to teach me a little game called "Mercy Me". They discovered that my feet are ticklish, so I had to shout "Mercy Me" in order to stop the torture. The television blasted an awful rendition of The Star Spangled Banner (in surround sound), and Auburn Aries was shrieking with laughter, as Thor made these (kind of hot) growling noises while tickling my feet, yet I've never felt more peaceful in my life.

Do you want me to tell you how I feel lately? I feel like a bottle of 7-Up that has been shaken up with the cap still on it. Bubbles rising in my heart, and anxious tension tickling me inside. Mercy me!

There must be a better way to describe how much I'm loving this peace and noise. Okay, let's say you were a prisoner in a labor camp and suddenly a clown car drove up and a little midget with a rainbow afro wig and red clown noise shouted to all the prisoners, "Everybody hop in! We're going to Chucky Cheese's for pizza!!!" Can you imagine how happy the prisoners would be as they piled into the clown car headed for a day of fun?

That's how I feel.