Time and friendship

I was thinking -- always a potential danger -- about how I interact with my friends. When I need to be serious, I am. The rest of the time, why bother? I would rather laugh. I would rather other people laugh with me.

When I am newly meeting people, I tend to be a bit more reserved. I wouldn't want to scare the mundanes, after all. Once I've determined someone's humour level is appropriate, I tend to let go all my sense of decorum.

Last night, at lurkitty's dinner party, I told terrible tales about G, insulted both G and Lurkitty several times and provoked a cat fight with Lurkitty that brought us to childish fisticuffs right at the table in front of her family. Yet, they laugh and somehow they allow me to live.

I have noted that a single look, a turn of phrase or a casual biting remark from family members or others can make us sad... instantly. At the same time, a friend can sweep in, create tall tales, laugh at our stupid moments and insult us in a room full of people, and we laugh along side.

The only explanation I can come up with is intent and environment. When we are raised in a certain way, we are trained to react to stimuli. When a sister or brother or parent slights us, it stings. When our best friends laugh or mock us for the same foible, we laugh at ourselves.

Do we really believe our family is being unduly harsh? Or are we trained over time to allow them to push our buttons now like they did when we were 5? Or do we compartmentalize what we allow others to get away with by how closely we allow them into our hearts?

All I know is, I am grateful that my friends know my heart and intents are pure so they allow me to continue a steady stream of love and mocking in their lives.