Commitment

I've been doing a great deal of internal exploration of myself and my relationships, the nature of friendship as it applies to me. I don't know if I ever really let anyone who reads this blog have even close to an idea of just how introspective I typically am, or how very calculated I am in almost everything I do. I'm the sort of person who will spend two hours writing a two paragraph e-mail just to make sure that there are no nuances or hidden meanings within that could at all come across without my intending them.

I am digressing, which is a response on my part to procrastinate because I've reached a point where I feel the necessity to start expressing my introspection to come to a even better understanding of myself, and doing so feels a little too raw for me.

Friendship.

For some years now I've expressed dismay over the shorter-lived nature of my localized interpersonal relationships. This would typically come across as a lamentation that I find myself frequently making friends, spending a couple years developing a close-ish friendship and then "losing" the friend when they inevitably graduate from the University and move elsewhere to start their real lives. Some of these people, we stay in varying degrees of touch (my Facebook is riddled with long distance, now mostly cursory, friendships which are much easier to maintain, and I've a handful of long distance friends I know would be instantly close bonded friends if I were local to them) but for the most part, it feels like a longer version of the "single serving friend" from Fight Club. Not single serving, but a soap dispenser that eventually runs out.

I'm beginning to be more honest with myself in that this isn't something that occurs due to the nature of friends being made with college students, but instead I choose to befriend college students because I have to wonder, and have difficulty trusting, whether longer-term friendships and me really work out at all. My closest friends in elementary school were not my closest friend in junior high school who was not any of my closest friends in highschool; and they, in turn, were not my closest friends post-high school. The closest anyone could come, I think, to refuting this is to note my friendships with Chris, Chrissy and Jira, all begun in 1991 and still present, but, by my own rules, I think they aren't refutable. After a small number of years varying between 2-4, they all trickled out of my life, moved away for quite a few years with almost zero contact and upon return, as is natural for all of us, were new and different people in the same, slightly older packaging. I think at my deepest, I considered these newly begun friendships again. This paragraph is riddled with grammatical error.

The longer any relationship lasts, the more complexand complicated they come, the more the energy required to nurture them changes. . .part of me wants to scream that the longer a friendship lasts, the easier it should become, and if that's an honest reality for everyone else, then I, in this particular instance, am discovering myself to be a bit broken. Am I the only one this rings true for? Do I find myself withdrawing quietly from some older associations as I nurture newer ones as some sort of "avoid working on maintaining friendships" defense mechanism, or as a "every one before has proven short, so best keep the attachment level to a minmum" response?

Why do I eventually push or walk away? And if I should, how do I even work towards changing this part of my personal reality?

Come tomorrow I'll probably decide I'm sharing too much vulnerability in my inner workings and delete this.

Happy Birthdays

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Rael,
Happy Birthday to you.

Four years old today, wow. I just try to think about where life was before Rael was born and how much has happened since, and I'm amazed so much has already fit into one little life time.

Retail

All right, so direct to the chase: we're planning to move in July at some point. Staying in Chico, we just don't like the location we're at now and would rather find something with more of a yard and fewer screaming college kids for neighbors. With that being that, we've begun the long task of packing (takes forever with a family of six) and I've come to realize, yet again, that I really have too much accumulated stuff. Things I wholly dug at the time but would rather be able to get rid of for a little cash and not have to move, which means it's eBay time again for me, where I'll be regularly posting things over the coming weeks. Please give my listings an occasional look through and feel free to bid on anything that strikes your fancy; I'll give a 50% discount on shipping to anyone who buys anything and mentions they went there because of this blog. My stuff is found here.

So far I've put up most of my old DC Direct statues and will be tackling the HeroClix over my next few days off. Anyone ineterested in old Magic The Gathering cards? I don't want to take the time to try listing all of them on eBay, if there's an interest in buying by set, in bulk, let me know.

Thanks everyone!

Feliz Cumpleanos

Happy birthday to you,
Happ birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Drew,
Happy birthday to you!

I Called It.

Dollhouse is getting renewed for a second season. There is a Santa Claus. I am very happy about this. But enough giddy-ness, this post is called "I Called It" and that requires a good amount of pat-myself-on-the-back bragging so here goes:

Amy Acker's character, Dr. Saunders was a Doll: I called it (sure, I also wanted her to be Alpha, but ALL of my reasoning for her being a Doll proved out).

On Fringe, Pacey was really Mirror Universe Pacey: I called it.

Lost--John Locke's been dead all season and is still in-the-box: I called it.

More Lost--Juliet dies: Called it (knew she was headlining the V remake next year, which meant she would likely be toast).

Faraday's a Widmore: Called it.

Jack and Kate are royal douches: I didn't call that; those facts have always pretty much just been universal truths.

Setting off the bomb just sends them back to the future: you'll see in a year, I called that too.

I don't think it's just me, and sure I do have a history for calling it (Professor X is the traitor who kills Professor X in Bishop's future--I called that, ask Micah; Ed Norton is Tyler Durden during the first thirty seconds of Fight Club), I just think that a lot of this season's big twists were a bit too over-telegraphed to truly end up being surprises.

Petting Zoo

Four of my last five posts were about television. I promise I actually have a life--it just isn't always all that exciting. Snippets of now and the future:

We've begun the slow process of packing. Anyone who has a lengthy relationship and has kids I'm sure can sympathize with just how monumentally more difficult it is to change living situation. For us, our current lease ends this summer and we've decided that, for the money we pay we would prefer a home that isn't surrounded by screaming college kids most nights of the week. Hopefully something with more yard for the kids. At any rate, packing takes forever, and we've only just begun. Hopefully we'll find something that meets our needs and our desires as much as possible.

This week Rael's preschool decided to surprise all the kids with the gift of a goldfish. A word of advice--if you plan to enter the teaching field, or to work with kids, do not give a child a pet, no matter how low-maintenance (ha! Shel can attest to how not low-maintenance fish actually are), without first making sure it's ok with the child's parent. Rael was ecstatic at his new fish and had it named and loved before he even left the classroom (he named it Goldy). I, on the other hand, not so happy that my kid now has a life to care for, and an extremely fragile life at that. I think it requires a certain level of audacity I just can't quite fathom, like cutting someone else's kid's hair without making sure the kid's parent is cool with it. Sadly, Goldy survived a bare 24 hours and Rael had to experience his first, and for a long time last, Funeral For A Fish.