Time to introduce my friends.

I have, over the past week or two, had a couple of different things I wanted to write about--the counter to my last entry, for instance, on why writing workshops are not entertaining, on gender issues and why it's hard to come out when you don't know what you are, and on writing in general--but I don't think any of those are quite as important as this one.  I think that five entries is far too many to go by without properly introducing my friends and why I love them.  I'm going to stick to the ones that are really, deeply important to me; understand, if you get left out, it's not because I love you less.  It's because I don't have space or time to write a novel about why I have the most amazing friends in the world.

My friends, I'm afraid, will be going by nicknames, because I feel I need to protect the not-so-innocent.  They are probably the only ones who will understand these nicknames.

The first person I have to talk about is my Bunnie.  (I am her Doggie.  This is all you need to know.)  She's been my best friend since 8th grade, though one might argue that we didn't hit best-friend-status until at least 9th grade.  Truth is, this is one of those friendships that I feel like was fated to happen, because she and I fit like puzzle pieces.  We're different, but we work.  And I love her dearly.  I would not be a writer if it weren't for my Bunnie.  She's the one who got me started writing original stuff--I'd been writing fanfic before, and I'd been writing all my life (well, 'writing', I use the term loosely), but if it hadn't been for her and the fantasy novel she's been working on since 6th grade (she'll correct me if I'm wrong), I never would have found my calling.  And I wouldn't be where I am now.  Bunnie is responsible for a lot of things I am now.  And I love her for that.  She's not in Arkansas right now, and that makes me kind of sad, because I haven't seen her in since October, but we've talked on the phone, and that's okay.  No amount of space can really separate us.  We manage to be joined at the hip even when we're in different time zones.  I actually foresee myself growing old with Bunnie, just because I really doubt any significant others will ever come between us.  (We've discussed it.  Even if either of us get married, we're going to live together anyway.)  Bunnie is the reason I believe in soul mates, and also why I believe that 'soul mate' doesn't have to mean 'lover' or anything of the sort.  She's just my Bunnie.  And I'm happy with that.  This is the Trapper to my Hawkeye, the Aziraphale to my Crowley, and, more importantly, the Dylan to my Taylor, the Cedric to my Dameon, but those last two don't make sense unless you know us.

Next is my Pookie.  Pookie and I met in a high school math class when I was in the 11th grade.  We bonded over anime, she got me into Quiz Bowl, and she probably turned me into a furry.  She has been the one who was there for me when Bunnie was driving me crazy, when I was down and really needed someone to lean on, and when I needed a break from reality for most of the Spring '09 semester.  She has been the Dollar Bill to my Mothman, which no matter how many fandoms I go through, she always will be.  She is my Radar.  She is my favourite penguin, and the Wilson to my House that I need when I'm busy being everyone else's Wilson.  Most importantly, she's my taco buddy, and I probably never would have discovered Taco John's without her.  Nor would I have discovered what it means to be a Nerdfighter.  Pookie and I have had a rather strange friendship, in that I kind of realise that I should have considered her one of my best friends all along, but it took Watchmen to really hit me over the head with that, and that's why Watchmen will always have a special place in my heart.

The next one, if she'll forgive me, I had a really hard time coming up with a nickname for, but I think I'm going to call her my Foxy Lady.  She'll know why.  I met her around the same time I met Pookie, and if I recall--though she's had to remind me--it was in an 11th grade French class.  I spent a lot of time not really getting to know her, because to be frank, her girlfriend at the time terrified me.  Foxy and I really became better friends somewhere during 12th grade or after I graduated, though I can't for the life of me tell you how or why.  I think what really did it was the fact that we started RPing together back when we were playing that epically insane VtM game.  She's the Adele to my Gabe, which in more generic terms means the Toreador to my Gangrel, which you'll have to forgive if it makes no sense.  She's the Hot Lips to my Hawkeye.  She's Sally to a lot of people, the feminine allure to my masculine tendencies.  She's been my go-to when I start having crazy gender issues lately, and I think it's a lot because she was in the right place at the right time and she was exactly the right person to talk to.  I owe her a lot right now.

I have to give a token mention to my Little Sis, who is not actually blood related to me, but who is probably at fault for half the people I was friends with in high school.  I've known her since...sometime in middle school.  She gave my story the push it needed to go in the right direction, and Dr. Adon would literally not exist without her.  She's kind of the Goten to my Gohan, if you'll pardon my using a ridiculously old reference.  She and I kind of drift in and out of being really tight, but I can't ever abandon her, because I love her too much for that, even during the times she was driving me batty.  She's also the entire reason I became friends with Bunnie, so I have to thank her for that, and she's the reason I got into roleplaying, which changed my life considerably.

Lastly, I have my Badger, who if Bunnie is the Trapper to my Hawkeye, Badger is my BJ.  I've only known her for a couple of years, and this is another one of those friendships that I kind of feel like was fated, because it spiralled into something incredibly close incredibly fast.  What you have to understand about me is that I do not make friends easily.  All of the people above I only began to really consider myself close friends with after I'd known them for two years or so, which is mostly because I have problems trusting people and truly committing to people.  Badger is special.  Badger and I met through writing classes and realised that we were quite a lot alike and somehow ended up being really good friends, and over the past couple of semesters, she has become one of my sisters.  She's someone I feel I can really talk to, and someone I really enjoy talking crazy character things with until all hours.  She introduced me to the awesome that is the Magical Doughnut Adventure.  More importantly, she introduced me to Pickman Studios, which has more or less been a weekly salvation for me since Bunnie left back in October.  She's been my inspiration to be more outgoing and to take more risks with getting close to people, because if I'd gone with my usual instinct--which is to shut people out until I know they're safe--I wouldn't be where I am now, and I'd probably be in pretty sorry shape.  But because of Badger, I have someone I can go to when I just need someone to have lunch with at random, or when I need to write, or when I just need a hug, especially with all of my other friends far away.  If I were the type to believe in miracles, I'd be convinced Badger was mine, because she showed up in my life just when I needed her and welcomed me into her fold of friends.

These people are all my sisters, and I love them all more than I can put into words.  I'm going to sign out before I start waxing too incredibly sappy here, but I'm afraid I already have.

On People, Fictional and Otherwise

I've spent my winter break watching M*A*S*H.

I was raised on this show.  It ended four years before I was born.  My mom watched it when it first came on, and it's always been one of her favourite shows.  I have known the tune of the theme song for my entire life--it's right up there with the Andy Griffith theme and the Cheers theme for songs that will forever be locked in my brain.  I can blame Hawkeye for why I'm attracted to dark-haired men with weird senses of humour.  In fact, I'm pretty certain that if I sat down and thought about it, a lot of aspects of my personality could be traced to this show. (I know that more of my original character Dameon is based on Hawkeye than I ever realised; little things kept popping up along the way, and I'd realise much later it was something Hawk had said or done.)  We own all but the last season on DVD.  And I've spent my fall break watching the first seven.

Admittedly, I'm not watching them exactly in order.  I started with seven, then watched six and five, then started on season one about a week and a half ago.  I just finished season three last night.

If you've never seen the series, I want to know what rock you've been living under, first of all, but if you really aren't familiar with it, season three ends with an episode called "Abyssinia, Henry".  The episode is about the unit's commanding officer, Henry Blake, getting his discharge papers and preparing to go home.  At the end of the episode, you find out that his plane out of Korea was shot down, and that Henry, along with all others on board, was killed.  I've seen the episode more than a dozen times, probably, over my lifetime.  I know this episode.  I know what happens.  In a lot of ways, that makes it worse, but after having seen it so many times, I should at least be somewhat desensitised to Henry's death.  I watched the episode last night, and I cried.  I cry every single time I see the episode.  It's not the only episode of M*A*S*H that makes me cry; it's certainly not the only one that affects me emotionally so profoundly.

I was struck by the realisation last night that I have cried more over Henry Blake's death than I did over my own grandfather's death this summer.  At first, it seemed a callous thing, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I have always been more deeply affected by fiction than real life.  I don't think it's necessarily that I don't care about real people, but I think it's a testament to the fact that we can never truly know one another.  Even as author John Green advises us to "imagine people complexly", I think it is far easier to relate to and to imagine complexly fictional people than those with whom we have daily interactions.

I'm not saying I care more about Henry Blake than I did about my grandfather.  But I do think that on some level, that might be more true than I care to admit.  With fictional characters, we get more of a window into their lives than we ever do with real people.  We can see what affects them in their most private moments.  We are privy to their secrets and their darkest flaws. We are witness to their mistakes and humiliations.  We partake in their joys and excitement.  Some of the boundaries put in place by the very nature of reality are broken down when we are presented with a well-created fictional character, just as some of the boundaries we put on ourselves may be broken down when we create our own.

I wouldn't be the first person to claim that I put a piece of myself into all of my characters.  And I wouldn't be the first to claim that I see myself in characters others create, either, which I think is why I love M*A*S*H so much.  But I'm thinking now, and not in a worrisome way, about whether I invest more interest in those I feel intimately familiar with, like Hawkeye Pierce, than I do in those I know I will never know completely--or complexly, probably--like my mother or my best friend.  And that should worry me.

It's a strange place to be when I start aspiring to know my friends like I know the people at the 4077th.