April 4th, 2006


missing you... or not

One of the funny things about me and travel is that I almost never miss people when I travel. Sure, there are sometimes people who I wish I could have with me, or people who I look forward to seeing when I next have a chance, but missing someone is something I do almost exclusively when the person in question is the one traveling. For me, the missing has to be happening in the place where I'm used to the person being present.

That is, when I'm home and someone I'm used to seeing often is away, or very busy, so I don't get to see them for long periods of time, I miss them. But when I'm traveling, I'm not used to X person being in Y place, and therefore, there's not an X shaped hole where I am.

I think I missed my parents when I went to college, and I know I missed aspects of being home when I went to Guate, but overall, and especially during short trips, missing just doesn't come in for me, unless I'm traveling somewhere that I'm used to seeing a certain person. If I were in CA, for example, and kcatalyst and trom weren't around, that would, no doubt, be weird for me; and when I went back to Guate, it was odd to be in Xela but have lots of my friends not be there, and I missed having them around, but if I'm not expecting a person to be in that context, then it doesn't occur to me, emotionally, to miss them when my expectations are met.

This leads to things like, when I was in Guatemala, friends telling me they missed me, and my most equivalent response being, "I'm looking forward to seeing you!" Which was completely honest, and heartfelt, but I suspect it fell flat for the missers, since, really, the feeling of missing someone is much more present and urgent than simply looking forward to seeing them.

I think about this a lot when I'm doing more travel, which I have been recently, leading me to not seeing lots of you as much or as recently as I might like. I'm looking forward to seeing you.

minor clarification

The other day, I commented on how odd it is that people think I care about them and their problems, and then I told a story about an example of that. I've gotten several comments since then from friends who've said that, yes, they do have the sense that I care about them and their problems.

So I'd like to clarify: I do, in fact, care about you, my friends and family, and your problems. It only strikes me as odd when it's a stranger or someone I hardly know at all seems to think I'm the one to spill their life story.

Thank you. I now return you to your regularly scheduled navel-gazing and other livejournally goodness.

how to kill a blender

Say you have an old blender, and you lust after a new blender. However, being the sensible person you are, you can't just replace a perfectly fine blender that does the job. I have a solution (tested and approved by kcatalyst and trom):

1. Buy chestnuts. Let them sit for a good long time until they're very dry.
2. Decide to make chestnut flour with the chestnuts.
3. After peeling the chestnuts (having a lot of wine on hand for this process is helpful), break up the pieces with a mallet or hammer.
4. Put the pieces into the grain mill. When the pieces are too big, take them out again, spilling some on the floor (drink more wine) and hit them some more with a hammer.
5. Decide that using the blender might be a more efficient way to break the pieces up enough to go through the grain mill.
6. Put hard, dried pieces of chestnut into blender.
7. Cover ears.
8. Turn blender on.
9. Wait for speeding chestnut pieces to crack a hole in the blender and send bits of chestnut shrapnel flying out the hole. (Do not stand in the path of chestnut shrapnel.) (Drink more wine.)
10. Go back to using a hammer.
11. Buy a new blender.