see as i saw

There are no children in my immediate family anymore - all of my parents' offspring exceed the age of 24.  Yet my presents still inexplicably come from Santa.  Maybe one day I'll be a parent and still have the urge to carry on the tradition past its logical stopping point.  But seeing as I busted the Santa myth around the age of six (mom didn't think I'd make the logical leap when I saw her buy a present for my brother which he later opened from Santa), perhaps ability to play along has been skewed.

Extended family gatherings have morphed in the past year or two, with most of my cousins hitting the college age.  There's not really playing and high-octane activity anymore, but an easygoing circle of conversation and banter.  There are some clear differences as you span our ten-year age gap (I am now familiar with a pointless and apparently popular app called Snap Chat), but there's also a foundation for real conversation.

I think that I've known for most of my life that truly great friends are difficult to come by, but also that they're the ones worth putting in the effort to find and keep.  Over time, I've seen that people have differing definitions of friendship.  For me, it's pretty cut and dry.

The people that I want close to me don't have to be exactly like me.  Our personalities can be distinctly different.  Most of our interests can lie at varying ends of the spectrum.  At the end of the day, though, differences aren't nearly as strong as the innate connection.

If your pain makes my gut wrench, or your good fortune brings a smile to my face, then we are on the same page where it really matters.  If we can be bluntly honest with one another and it leads to productive solutions instead of drama, there's a true and trustworthy foundation there.  If you manage to find some of my quirks to be assets, you're clearly a keeper!

Some of these people are present nearly every day in my life, some regularly bob in and out, and others may fade out for longer periods.  Ultimately, I've realized that these are my people, the friends whom I want to be there for despite time, distance, weather conditions, whatever the obstacles may be.  I'm much less interested in surface-level acquaintanceships.

There's a couple that lives on my floor, probably around 60 years old.  He's from Australia and always addresses me as "love", probably because he doesn't really know or remember my name.  Anyways, nice people.  I ran into him at the elevator today, loading up some lumber and stuff.  We chatted about the project he had worked on all day and I mentioned how I grew up in a project-oriented home.  Long story short, he said it sounds like he'd really get along with my dad.

I started thinking about how I hear similar statements all the time: "I think I'd love your mom" or "Your parents sound fun".  This led me to surmise two things.  First, it's not surprising that my parents have so many friends and social invites; even miscellaneous strangers think they sound more than alright.  Second, I must think they're more than alright, too...seeing as I'm clearly finding plenty of time to talk them up to these miscellaneous people.  I will not, however, start carrying photos of them in my wallet as visual support for my stories.

After 118 posts, it's difficult to remember what titles I've already use.  The good news is that if I can't really remember, then I doubt you can.  So, I guess we're good to go.

This is a story about cocoa powder.  Once upon a time, we'll call it two years ago, I bought a container of cocoa powder for one specific use.  After one tablespoon, it was relegated to the back of my cupboard.  We have since reconnected, many times.  All it took to bring us together was my lack of a job, which drove me to find time for and interest in making food.  Since mid-February, we have collaborated to make not one, but four, tasty concoctions: chocolate mousse, hot chocolate, chocolate syrup and chocolate pudding.

All of those years I fought my Mom over how much I hated being in the kitchen, who would've thought I'd change my tune so drastically.  I actually enjoy playing around in this miniature space my apartment passes off as a kitchen.  Just think how I'd feel if I actually had counter space and small appliances that were created after 1995, not that I'm hating on my free hand-me-downs.

It's difficult for me to believe that this is my 93rd entry.  More than that, I've managed to find at least 93 things that inspired me enough to take a photo of them.  That was much easier in Costa Rica, where nearly everything seemed novel and amazing.  Somehow, I've managed to revitalize how I view my own neighborhood, too.

On the other hand, I'm getting restless.  Today's test drive didn't cost me anything; I just downloaded an app that allows me to play with filters and tinker with image settings.  What I'd really like is 1) a DSLR camera with all the fixins' and 2) some new environments to inspire me.  Not that Chicago doesn't have hidden gems scattered throughout the diverse neighborhoods, many of which I haven't visited.  If we really want to get straight to the point, I'm craving international travel again...already.  I suppose we'll see how long I can drag out my fascination with photo filters instead.