Thursday, January 28, 2010


Last night, I was chatting w/ my best friend on the phone and, at the same time, greeting my kitty cat.  This is something Jess and I do a lot.  We talk to each other, and our cats, simultaneously.  We also mimic our cats' responses to our statements - resulting in a cacophony of words and meows.  Sort of like a riotous conference call among species.

As all of this is happening, I'm calling my cat random pet names.  Honey, kittiepoo, and the like.  Jess casually interrupts my jabbering to say, "I like it that you just called her 'Sweet Pea.'  That's a good name."  I stop short and outright deny that I said such a thing, "No, Jess-- Sweet Pea isn't in my vocabulary; I couldn't have said that.  Anyway, that is too charming of a nickname for me to use.  Didn't happen."

"It did!" she shot back indignantly, somewhat miffed.  Back and forth we fought good-naturedly until, finally, Jess said something to the effect of, "Look, that is what you said.  I'm sure of it."  And the tone in her voice strongly suggested not to protest any further, but I silently remained unconvinced.

Moments ago, I received an e-mail from my good friend, April, and the first line she wrote to me therein was:  
"How is your day going, Sweet Pea?"

A-ha!  I DID say it.  I absolutely called my cat Sweet Pea without realizing it on any level.  I wonder what other sorts of cutesy phrases I use minus executive processing?  The fact that there is but a flimsy divide b/t my brain and my mouth has never escaped me (or anyone else, for that matter).  This happening demonstrates that the filter is virtually non-existent.  My unconscious/subconscious is so close to the surface that I am not even cognizant of it becoming manifest.

Maybe this is a function of how close of friends Jess and I are--that I don't filter with her at all...

I beguile me.