May 21st, 2003



I find myself thinking about the transient nature of relationships — I don't just mean as in boyfriends but even friendships. In our fraternity, you'd often get closer to someone, only to have them get a girlfriend and then fade from existence, as if the friendships he'd made meant nothing. Not everyone did that, of course, but more than one. I swore I'd never do that.

At school, best friends were discarded and like old socks. Every semester, people moved in and out of the dorms like the changing of the guard. And at the end of every academic year, after bidding a tearful fair well to friends, swearing you'd keep in touch. Of course, that lasted a few weeks until new friendships were forged with the new residents down the hall, and next door. In truth, I could have kept in better contact with several friends I did hold throughout the years. Unfortunately somewhere in my excitement in my decision to come out, and leave San Diego for L.A., they were all forgotten.

Then there was coming out. GayLand, where everyone, you were told, was so supportive you referred to each other as "family".

[pause for interminable laughter]

Friendships in this land seem volatile at best. I find myself realizing that, while I have lots of friends, some of them I would call close friends with whom I share fears and secrets with, I've been lacking a best friend for some time — that person who you're always with, the person serendipity brings you together with; the person when you're not with him/her, people ask, "where's [insert name here]?". It's not something to which I'm all that accustomed to being without.

I've observed for the most part, that most of the friends in my circle are very independent. On any given night of going out, there will be a group of us. We usually arrive separately and often by coincidence — especially when there's a party. Never knowing who might be on (or not on) the given evite list for that night, calls could risk hurt feelings. It often feels as if the cast of characters for a given day or evening are often replaceable. I don't think it's really like that, but when you're hanging out and chatting with 10-20+ friends, people are often forgotten. When you do remember, "oh where's x?" You decide you'll call in a second when someone else comes up. Ooops. Forgotten.

I don't think I'm the only one who feels this way. I've had similar conversations with others. And I just don't seem to notice many pairs of best friends anymore. We hang out. We have fun. Shit, we have a lot of fun. But where are the real connections? Why is it that people move away, and our lives seem to go on without a hitch? We stay busy, we hang out, we club, we go to parties. It just seems that what we're doing all seem to be ways to occupy time but not hearts.

I want more.
  • Current Music
    The Cranberries - Daffodil Lament

Rescue 911

So evidentally someone got trapped in the elevator at my apartment. I walked down the steps to see the fire department coming in in full uniform. I let them into the garage, where they needed to get into the elevator room. Not having a key, they proceeded to gently nudge their way in (and by gently, I mean with those bix axes you see them carrying).

A lot of crashing and banging later, they had the door open. Wish I could have stuck around to see them extricate the person from the elevator. Oh well. I'll be taking the stairs when I get home this evening.
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    awake awake