The Other Boleyn Girl?

I'm not sure what that movie's all about, but I'm fairly sure that it's plot is vastly different than that of which I write tonight. But 1) A catchy title really draws in the crowd, doesn't it? and 2) Since when have my titles even resembled rational thoughts?

So, for a year and a half now I've been dating an amazing and wonderful gal, we're moving in together in September (MASSIVE step for the commitment-phobe that some of you may know me to be), and, in general, things're cool. Every once in a while, however, small hurdles come up (as they tend to in relationships), and they must be crossed. (I'd like to disclaim that they are, in fact, small hurdles, and that overall we're probably the healthiest relationship I've ever witnessed, much less been a part of.) This particular hurdle involves my girlfriend's best friend, "Gretchen."

Myself, my girlfriend, Gretchen and her fiance, and a smattering of other people all play D&D regularly (as you might have gathered from previous posts). The first four of that list sort of represent the core group; we all play in all the games, and the four of us hang out with each other with relative frequency even when we're not playing. We're a pretty tight-knit foursome. The trouble is that Gretchen's fiance and my girlfriend have expressed twinges of jealousy at how close of friends Gretchen and I have become.

Now, years and years ago, in a galaxy not too far from one that's close to this one, my good friend "May" and I were quite the eccentric couple of friends. She and I had a sibling-like relationship, one that consisted of constant screwing with each other, trying to one-up each other, searching for creative put-downs, etc. We were close, we had fun with each other, and everyone we encountered asked how long we'd been dating. Without exception, every single person assumed we were going out.

Back to Gretchen. Since May's moved away, I don't see her that much anymore. (I saw her for a half-hour over my lunch break since christmas...) Although Gretchen is by no means May's replacement (I'd never presume that either one was replaceable), I've developed a friendship with her similar to the one that I had with May. Playful-degrading banter, mock-hatred, just... sibling bickering is the only real way to describe it. Now, if Gretchen and I give off even half the vibe that May and I did, I can understand how my girlfriend and Gretchen's fiance could be jealous of that. I get it, I do. The question is, what am I supposed to do about it?

Now, my g/f hasn't told me not to talk to Gretchen or anything like that; she knows we're just friends, etc and so-forth. But I understand her feelings of jealousy, and I will in no way jeopardize the relationship I have with my girlfriend; I've never met anyone like her, nor do I expect I ever will again. She's perfect for me, in all aspects. But I've gotten close with Gretchen; I consider her a good friend. (Incidentally, I consider Gretchen's fiance a good friend too; he just doesn't talk (or, more appropriately, text) as often as his soon-to-be-wife does.) So where's the compromise? How do I respect my girlfriend's feelings, without blowing-off a friend? Any thoughts? Anyone? ... Hello? ...

...

I know you're out there... I can hear you breathing...

Same Ol'

Today at work e-conversation of religion stirred up what had been my passion not more than a few years ago. Although I don't have the original document to cut and paste, I'm sure you can infer from my answers what was said (or, at least, where I myself stand).






Firstly, I'm quite interested in the statistic that only 6% of all wars were started because of religion. (And that half of those were started by Muslims? I think the mulitple Crusades put the Christians way ahead on the number of wars-started...) Where did that statistic originate? What sets of data were compiled to form it? What definition of "war" is it using? What definition of "religion"? Perhaps more to the point, the issue is less about how many wars were started by religion, but rather how many people have been killed because of religion. Even if the statistic is accurate and unbiased (unlikely, given amount of unrecorded history that exists), if 6% of all wars resulted in 70% of all deaths due to war, than the statistic is misleading.

I think that highlights a crucial point: You can't blindly accept as truth the things you read, you hear, or are told, no matter the source. Although Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all tell essentially the same story, there is no question that variances, and even different editorial themes, occur between them. This is because each was speaking to a different audience, and each had slightly different aims. You have to consider where the information originated from; you must consider the circumstances around it. And in a document as old as the bible, you must consider editor changes, mistranslations, and the goals of the authors. What harm is there in probing deeper and asking questions? If the thing in which you believe is really "true," then you will have affirmed your belief. But if it is not…? Blind faith can only make a person succeptible to untruth.

The commonly-quoted phrase is actually (depending on your translation): "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no man can come to the father but through me." There's two interesting tidbits about that sentence that most people using it tend to overlook. The first is that the word "belief" is absent. The sentence, taken at face value, says that it is through Jesus' grace, not the belief therein, that saves us. Perhaps more importantly, think closely about the first half of the sentence. "Am" is a form of the verb "to be," which has several meanings. Feel free to look them up, but it's fairly obvious that only one makes sense in the way Jesus uses the term: Equivocation. Jesus is not a member of a group of "ways", nor is "truth" the name his friends called him. He is the way, truth, and life. But in that regard, the way, truth, and life likewise are Jesus; if this understanding is not what he mean, he could've simply said the second half of the sentence. The fact that he said both puts a new spin on the quote, whereby it means that no one can get to God except by means of the way, the truth, and the life. And if you compare the various major religions of the world, I think you'll find that they all offer common insight into what exactly that entails.

An analogy was posed with the assertion that knowing a painter exists upon seeing a painting means we should know that a creator of the universe exists, but that is an inaccurate comparison. Many of us have seen a painter in action, if not done the painting ourselves. But, to date, no one I know has witnessed the universe being created, nor are there any who can comment on the complexities of what happened "before" time. As such, we have no logical basis to believe that something outside of existence created existence. But even if we presume that the painting/painter analogy is applicable, there is a massive difference between knowing there is a painter, and knowing the painter. Even if creation implies a creator, it speaks nothing concrete of his personality, his agenda, his desires, or any other facet of his existence. Those who claim otherwise often quote texts that they assert, perhaps comically, speak the truth because the text itself dictates that it speaks the truth. (A brief side note about feeling wrong inside when you break the tend commandments: when was the last time you felt bad because you thought someone had a nice car? That's number 10, desiring another's posessions, but I feel no remorse for something like that.)

The fact is that God's existence, like the love we have for the special people in our lives, cannot be proved, nor can it be disproved. It exists for those who experience it, and those who do not can choose to seek it or choose to ignore it. Likewise, one religion cannot be proven "right" above the others; any evidence thus is derived from a book that self-claims to be accurate. Now, I know that God exists just as I know my mother loves me. It is not faith; it's knowledge. But I do not presume to think that knowing his existence means I can even begin to understand him. He is so far beyond human ken that simply to speak of him is to place limits upon his nature; to claim that he is something means that there is something he is not. God is not limited to how he can affect people, nor to whom he may appear. If he wants to reach someone, he doesn't need a book to do it, and if someone doesn't want to be reached, they can read the same book all they want and accomplish nothing. I am loosely Christian because I believe that God's nature is forgiving, but that is more a matter of intuition than something that an "infallible text" has taught me.

Serve Others

That's been my mantra of late. Well, it's my attempted mantra. It's hard to "serve" the jackass who's swerving like an idiot on the highway, or the customer who's being ignorant to a coworker. People are shit. How the hell did Jesus do it? I mean, the man didn't just die for the people he liked; he died for assholes and ignoramouses alike. (Okay, YOU spell ignoramouses...) I reckon that's why he's God, and I'm not. Lol if I were god, there'd be a lot of sudden, unexplained deaths happening during rush-hour traffic. But taking that phrase as a mantra is my effort to get back to the compassionate person that I have a distinct memory of once being, before my experiences with others of my race began to harden and jade me. At some point, I developed a pretty short fuse when it comes to dealing with people that are douchebags, and I need to get over that, 'cause the short fuse is gradually spreading to all areas of my life.

On a similar topic is, despite having been in a relationship for coming up on a year and a half, I still have difficulty finding the middle ground between serving the love of my life, and being true to myself. Recent example is that I want so much to make her happy, to absolve her life of whatever difficulties it may contain, that I almost did something that I really didn't want to do; something that, really, would have been a pretty ignorant thing. Where is the line between wanting to take care of the one you love, versus maintaining your individuality? I haven't gotten my brain around that yet. I mean, I must be doing an okay job of walking that line, though, because for the most part I feel like I'm still the same person I was when I started dating her (perhaps more willing to share my life now though), and she certainly seems happy enough with how I treat her. Maybe there is no precise "here" point between the two extremes? Maybe the best you can do is take situations as the come, and decide individually if they're "sacrifice for the other" situations or if they're "stick to my guns" situations. I'll let you know if I figure it out.

Eulogy

Aunt Pat asked me to deliver the Eulogy for her today, and before I get to the part she wrote, there’s a short dialogue I’d like to read that I think is appropriate. The scene is one of battle, of two friends, one a veteran warrior and the other inexperienced, as they stand by each other as the enemy beats-down their defenses. The first sentence is spoken by the younger, untested man.

P: I didn’t think it would end this way.
G: End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path… One that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass… And then you see it.
P: What? …see what?
G: White shores… and beyond, a far green country, under a swift sunrise.
P: Well, that isn’t so bad.
G: No… No, it isn’t.

On June 11th, 1924, Clifford Thompson Sr. was born. He was an angel, sent by God, but he never knew it. He was the youngest of four children, and looked exactly like his mom. More than that, he also seems to have inherited his loving nature from her, as he always said that she had a good heart and took care of her brothers and family the best that she could. At the age of 18, he joined our country’s military; During World War II, he was shot and captured in the Battle of Anzio, and spent 18 months as a prisoner of war. He rarely spoke of that time, except to a young man in the 5th grade who interviewed him about it; he hopes that interview will be read today.
Though Cliff undoubtedly endured hell in his 18 months in a POW camp, it only served to make him an even more compassionate and loving man than he’d already been. While he was held prisoner, his mother passed-away. This hurt Cliff to no end, and it was 60 years later that he finally achieved some degree of peace of mind by buying her a headstone.
He worked on the railroad for 34 years, during which time he worked hard to earn a living and provide for his family. When Pat met him, she said was the most respectful, decent, honest person she ever known. It seemed, according to her, that he “made it feel like Christmas even when things went wrong.” She considered him to be her own personal “knight in shining armor,” and they wed in 1987. The happiest day of her life was when she looked into his eyes at their wedding and he said “til death parts us.”
Cliff never felt he was a hero, even with all his medals. He never thought he was special. He never wanted riches. He only wanted to make others happy, either with special Christmas’ at his house, or just by helping those in need if he could. He loved everyone, but he swore that if anyone hurt Pat, he would ask God to let him come back and pay them their dues. So passionate was that thought, he actually requested, to many people, that it be said at his funeral.
Whether from his mother, his time as a POW, his nature, or just the life he chose to live, there can be no doubts that Cliff was a man of boundless love and compassion. If you hurt, Cliff hurt. And although he was an obsessive worrier, the last thing he wanted his wife Pat to know is that he loved her and all the family with all his heart.
He may not have believed he was a hero. He may have forgotten that he was an angel. But he’d’ve earned those titles even if he hadn’t fought in the war; God sent him to Pat to be her hero. He was her angel. And he was so brave that even unto his last breath, he cared only for her. And that is the greatest blessing that she could receive, for if someone had Cliff’s love and respect, they were loved as God loves, by a love that survives even death. And because of the strength of that love, I have no doubt that when we see him again, on those white shores, by that green countryside, he’ll be smiling, and sitting upon a white horse, with the sunrise glinting off of his silver armor.

PS

I find it entertaining that my post in august said that I don't whine as much any more, which must mean I'm growing up. And then in my post from five minutes ago I bitch about having to wake up early. Ah, well; the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Success!

After almost a half-hour of attempts, I finally remembered how the hell to sign into this damn thing! I was talking with a fairly new friend of mine yesterday, and she was completely unaware that I'd ever had a blog. That made me sad, so I told her where it was, then I started reading it, and thought, "Damn, I don't post on there nearly as much as I used to." So here I am.

A lot's changed since August of '07, and most (if not all) is for the better. I'm in such a happier place now than I was 6 months ago. I'm infinitely more comfortable with my girlfriend, we're planning to move out together in september, I'm happy with my job and doing well at it, I'll probably be going to grad school within a year (on the company's dime, no less), and (lol it's kinda sad that this makes the list) I'm role-playing like nobody's biz. I'm running a pretty solid campaign that's been going on for over a year now (both in real life as well as in-game time), and I think I've done a decent job of making it feel realistic as evidenced by the fact that one of my players (my girlfriend) cried last time when one of the other characters died. That's realism.

Anyhoozy, it's late now, and I need to get to bed. That's one thing I haven't gotten used to, even after 1+ year at this place: I hate, hate HATE getting up early. But, such is life; never perfect, eh what? Sleep well everyone; you should be hearing more from me soon.

Wowzers

I don't write here much anymore, huh? Still, I like to come back and read things and remember past times of my life. That's the main reason I started this blog, actually; so I could look back on the times of my past and remember where I came from.

Life is pretty good these days. I have a great girlfriend (the fact of which I refuse to allow to intimidate me). I have a good job at a great company that I'm doing really well at. I've proven to be a kick-ass DM, and I'm dying to get to do it again. As my last post commented, I let some of my players DM for the past few months, and when that's coupled with various scheduling conflicts due to summer vacations and such, I haven't personally DMed for months now, and I have all sorts of ideas and plots bubbling within me. I'm working on turning the adventures we've already played into a book; thus far I've written 26 pages, and I'm not even through two adventures yet. (I've gotten decent reviews from the two people who've gotten back to me.) I went to confession yesterday for the first time in God-knows how many years. Things are good.

I guess I wanted to write that out because so much of my past postings seem turbulent, or whiney, that I wanted to get one up here that was all good stuff. I guess I have a thing or two that I could gripe about, but I won't, 'cause it's all minor. And I think that's a sign that I'm finally growing up. Huzzah!

Wow, 2 months

That's how long it's been since I've gotten to post here. Life has been hectic. It makes a big difference, switching from working 20 hours to working 40. I guess that makes sense, but I never really thought about it. I feel as though my free time is virtually non-existent.

What time I do have to myself is a mad-cap effort to juggle role-playing, martial arts, spending time with my girlfriend, keeping up with my friends, the occasional TV, and the even more occasional time to myself. Role-playing has largely consumed my world, and I'm fortunate that Siddy likes it too, because that eliminates at least one contest for my time. I'm playing pretty much every week these days (one group in bel air that I play in, and one in towson that I run), and a chunk of the weeks in between is spent working on the adventure for the towson group. I'm actually going to let some of those players guest-DM for the next few months, partially to give the newbs some experience at it, but mostly to rest my creative juices. To be honest though, I'm not sure how well that'll take. I've spent so much time lately on RP stuff, that I'm not sure what I'll do when I have a break. We'll see.

I talked to my brother about trying to save up and buy a house together by his 21st; that's about 1.5 years away, and I think we could do it. He and I probably wouldn't be the best of roommates, but I can't think of anyone else offhand, and we are blood. I wouldn't want to live with a stranger either. So, we'll see how that goes. I need to get out of the house, but rent is ridiculous these days, and mortgages are worse. I don't know how people do it. Even if all of my existing bills were paid-off, I'd barely be able to afford living on my own.

I'm hoping to transfer to the forest hill branch when it opens in the fall; that should help a bit timewise, even if it's only in being able to get to martial arts sooner. Of course, I'm (theoretically) starting classes towards a business degree at towson in the fall, so there goes that extra bit of time. I guess this is growing up. I don't like it.