|So here's the thing:|
I know I haven't posted in a while. Like, a long while.
And, in some respects, I am sorry for that. It pains me that I haven't written anything here in so long. But, I refuse to write drivel here. (Even though most of what I usually write could be considered drivel...)
Ok, so here's what I have been thinking about lately (besides some REALLY neat-o blue eyes...).
What is it that defines a friend?
I mean, I have people in my life that I have known since 6th grade. I have people for whom I would have given up everything in the world. I have people (with gorgeous blue eyes) who have recently come back into my life after many years...
But, I was still not sure that I knew what it is that makes someone a true friend.
Because after all this time, I have someone who I have confided in, and who I ask for advice on a nearly DAILY basis, and who could possibly be the most genuinely GOOD and KIND person I have ever had the honor of knowing...and yet, I have never met this person. NEVER. Not even once.
So, what makes a friend?
I guess what I am getting at is the fact that proxemity is what most of us base our friendships on. Proxemity is what initially will bring us together. The people we are NEAR to, physically, are those we become closest to emotionally. It makes sense. But now...now, in this world of high-speed, interconnected, wireless, bluetooth, megapixeled, webcam, discussion forum technology, we don't have to be physically near people. We can be virtually near. So what if I'll probably never get the chance to visit Kuala Lumpur. With a few clicks, I'm there. And I am able to do things and talk with people I would never otherwise have the chance to meet and talk with.
So, in a round-about way, I suppose that what I am saying here is that in this, the holiday season, one thing that I am incredibly grateful for is one strange--yet fateful--night, long, long, ago, that was spent in a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" chat room making fun of a whole lot of people who have very limited basic skills in grammar.
Out of that, I was able to learn what friendship truly is.
Muchas gracias. Con mucho carino.
|I did not intentionally break my posting promise.|
Ask Zam. She and I were chatting and I mentioned that, "I posted the other day." She became quite excited and said, "Really? I must have missed that...let me go read it."
She quickly informed me that "the other day" was like 2 weeks ago.
I honestly don't know where all the time is going. This is craziness. I fully intended on posting once a week. But, now I can't even keep track of when the week begins and ends! I am going insane. Or senile. I'm not sure which.
Anyway, I had to post this tonight in honor of several things.
I have been gone for a long time. I know it.
I don't know what has come over me.
Well, actually, I do, but nothing I say will sound like anything less than a lame excuse. And, so, I shan't make any lame excuses.
There's nothing worse than a pathetic story about being heartbroken (which I am). And there's no good excuse about how I have incredible amounts of work piling up (which I have). And it's not like I am the only one in the world who has a hard time mustering up the energy to post on her blog on a regular basis (because I'm not--look at Zam).
I admit, I have reached new depths of low. Zam evacuated her home under threat of Rita, and was still able to post. I, on the other hand, sat here on my patoot many many miles to the north, under the clear blue skies, feeling sorry for myself, while at my favorite coffee shop, grading a mountain of papers--and not posting.
So, hereby let it be declared that I resolve to try to post AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK on this blog, AND on the Smart Asses blog, even if for nothing else than to say I did it.
|I was at the doctor yesterday. It must be time to go back to school.|
Seems like I make a pilgrimage to the doctor's office prior to the start of school more often than I would like. Remember the Carribbean Death Bug™?
I had to make a trip to the doctor because I have somehow managed to contract a BLOCKBUSTER case of some sort of poison--be it ivy, oak, sumac, or judging by the looks of it, some unheard of mutant poison that kills its victims slowly, from the inside out while they help kill themselves by clawing their way in through their own skin--all over my arms.
Well, mostly on my left forearm.
And, well, I think it's poison. My doctor didn't look at it all that closely. He would have rather chit- chatted with me about work and why I am not coaching at all, and yada yada yada, and wow, your arm looks bad, and you really should get back into coaching, yada yada yada, and here's a shot and some pills, and it should clear right up.
So, how bad is it, you ask?
Oh, it's BAD.
However, I am on the road to recovery. Prednisone has cleared up the swelling, the redness and itching are beginning to go away, and the large blistery areas have (eew gross) formed scab-like crusts.
I have been asked several times if I burned my arm. One administrator at school asked if it was flesh-eating bacteria. Zam is on stand-by with sterilized hacksaw at the ready should I need an amputation. It's kind of fun to watch everyone recoil in horror when they see it. I do readily admit, it is not for the weak-stomached or the faint of heart.
This shizzle is fo' grizzle.
It's a grizly sight, indeed.
Photographic evidence will be forthcoming.