Realized a while ago that I was probably due for a break, so I took Friday off and will be off on Monday as well.  Spent Friday....doing a lot of housework, actually, and this weekend I've been doing a mix of things -- pretty much the usual, honestly.  Got my monthlies album cover done, played some games, cooked a bunch of food, got some exercise, that kind of stuff.

Despite how often I've recommended using the broiler for cooking fish fillets, I've actually been moving to just pan frying them on a skillet, as I feel pretty comfortable with it and there's a bit less setup involved, plus you get a nice crisp skin which is great.  Might be a different story if our broiler ran hotter, and if I have an especially thick belly slice I don't think pan frying is the way to go (you'd need sous-vide or some time in the oven to ensure the interior is cooked through), but for an everyday nice fillet just follow the instructions at https://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2017/01/crispy-pan-seared-salmon-fillets-recipe.html  -- I don't even find that a non-non-stick pan is even necessary for this, as the skin crisps up just fine on a nonstick skillet.  Though of course if you've got a nice carbon steel skillet that you like to use then by all means go ahead.

Sent in my first "letter to a stranger" and got one back as well.  I'm not sure how diligently I'll be contributing to that project, but the promise of getting a letter back is kind of nice, even if it isn't written to me directly.

I started (finally) converting the original binder paper "people making my day" log over to my spreadsheet, which involved going over a plethora of random positive events in 2005-2006 that warranted noting.  Some of them didn't really surprise me much, but I realized upon reading that that there was a friend who was actually very important to me that I had forgotten how good of a friend I had considered them.  But it was really clear, reading through that log, how much happiness this person brought to my life.  And I was actually able to chat with them for a while the other day.  It's not very common that I am able to retrace the steps and find someone who has left my life, but every once in a while, it still happens.

It's quite something, reading through this log.  In a way, it makes me sad because I realize that those were some of the closest bonds that I have ever felt.  And through all of the experiences and people that I met during my 5 years in college and beyond, there are scant few that would come close.  All the others pale in comparison.  And it wouldn't matter that it's been 10, 15 years since that time -- I still consider those people to be more important to me.  Because of what we went through together, and because of what they meant to me.  During the time when seeing someone after school, or at lunch, and spending time with them, was all that I needed to have a great day.

I can't tell whether it makes me feel "closed" or "open", thinking back to all of these times, and how important they have been.  On the one hand, these people will always remain important to me.  Even those that I don't like anymore and don't wish to interact with, those ones are important too.  But the ones which I truly miss, those feelings won't fade.  And even if they do, I still have my logs from 15 years ago to remind me of them.  How can I possibly make space in my life for new people when I already have such a rich, full, and heavy past?

But it makes me feel, too, that these types of relationships are things that I must cultivate.  Or even if I cannot cultivate, to make possible, if only from my end.  Even if there is no one else in the world who wishes to interact in the same ways as I once did, if I still believe in it, then I'll be there waiting.  I'm not sure what to call this trait that I have, but I can't wish for something to be true, and then simply feel sad that it's not and move on.  I'll go back even if it seems pointless.  Because I can't believe in it otherwise.

So though it makes me remember, that I have a thread tying me to my past, it also makes me remember, that I have a duty to live that belief forward in the future as well.  To show the world, and myself, that we =can= connect as we once did.  And that just because the world moved on, doesn't mean that everyone did.  Because I am still here.  So I must make sure that I am there, waiting to greet anyone else who might come, or might not come.

"I’m in, I whispered. But I knew she would never be there again."