The man (or woman, as the case may be) behind the curtain.

"Our whole destiny seems to lie in...being as little as possible ourselves, in acquiring a fragrance that is not our own but borrowed, in becoming clean mirrors filled with the image of a face that is not ours."--C.S. Lewis

Oh, Clive! I love you. I love familiarity; I am not going to lie. Infact, I could (at this very moment) go up to my room and find a pencil where I left it - "um, what does that have to do with familiarity?", you may ask. The catch is, I could do that with my eyes closed. Relying on what has been in place for some 5 years now (the layout of my house), that which has evolved little (if at all) from originality at such a pace that I've have to aclimate. That being said -- I don't like change. Try as I may, I just don't care for it. I love going to different places and trying different things, and seeing different cultures and peoples. I LOVE different foods, etcetera, etcetera; but when I come home to HOME I like familiar. My mom moves the furniture around and I feel like my family has changed beyong recognition (okay, not quite to that degree. It's just to make a point). This, however - the changing of things in the home - is rare and far in between. However, after a conversation with a very dear friend, it suddenly occured to me that just as my desk has a place in my room where it serves it's purpose, so I have a place in my family. We all do; it's just that, like our furniture, we ourselves do some renovation, we move things around, change the routine, and get familiar with each change that comes along. We do this so well, in fact, that we learn to live without those who leave us. What happens when they come home? I ponder this as I contemplate leaving home for a time (a short, sweet, time!) in search of adventure and life and ehm "education". What if I misplace my place, and my familiarity is tossed out the window like our old casset stereo? Then, I remember that my place is, as Lewis says, 'in aquiring a fragrance that is not my own, and in becomming a clean mirror reflecting Another's face'. This, dear one, is your place.
(It's also in throwing the occasional fit, and stumbling and realizing that you are really who you used to be only better, that those around you are also that, and that you really do have a place it's just not the same as it once was; and in the end, it will be better.) Happy... new (ick!)... Year!