Okay, so I started to put this in the profile section under "about you" and rambled enough for it to turn into something completely different....

First of all, I think you should be able to type in more letters in the boxes. People can't tell you who are from these things, but they would've found out a lot by reading my mental side-comments or jokes about some of the questions, which I tried to type in but was limited in characters..... sounds like censorship to me Paul - it's like, we'll let you answer, but not explain. Ha ha.
That doesn't really tell you about mw, but neither do the questions, hmm?
Buffalo by growth, san diego by, I guess, fate? My actual birth age is 27, but really sometimes I am stubborn like a 16 year old, but most of the time, I feel like I'm more 35 or forty. Sometimes I look at dumb-ass 40 and 50 year-olds, and I feel rather like a 100-year old sage on the hill.... such is the balance. I have a 5-year old son, who is awesome.
I miss new york, and buffalo, in ways I never thought I would. That just goes to show that no matter what, there's no place like home, and there's no one in the world that can know you like family.... like, let's say I knew this guy for 25 years, now. The first time I met him I was four. He was a catholic republican italian boy, my first memory of him was having my skirt looked up while at a birthday party. In wholesome years, we watched, and sang along with, Mary Tyler Moore. The next thing I knew, ten, well, maybe twelve years later, he comes to my house in faux-fur bellbottoms the size of, I don't know, hakama pants, with an 8-sizes to small bright yellow t-shirt, and a 3-foot long plastic wallet chain, on his way to a rave (one of the changes I still don't get - such is life!). I thought to myself, where did my little brother go, with the plaid shirts and ties, and the little elephant pin? He taught me how to go out and do things, even if you didn't' know what to do, or you didn't know how, or even if people said that idea was crazy. Now, he's gay, atheist, technologically enslaved to a point that it worries me for his soul (gosh you're almost a hermit, if you count time at the computer-master, even if you are out of the house), even 3000 miles away, and will do any drug you put in front of him. Unless he's around a cat, such that no physical attibutes work well enough...with no nose, you can't snort, with no lungs, you can't smoke, with a brain primed for hypochondria, you live in paranoia. I tell you, it started with the "brain tumor" in 10th grade. Before that, the hypochondria was limited only to allergies, I can tell you accurately. Oh, he's also now pretty close to being a left-ist anarchist than a republican for sure - definately one of the changes I would agree with! Through all these fundamental things, attributes, which we like to think make us the person we are: faith, political views, sexual orientation, whether you'd rather hike or type, these are the things that I think we like to feel pride in, when it comes to thinking and feeling about who we are and what we do (although you certainly can never categorize people fully or accurately, whether it's your own self, or some one you don't know - perspective, it's a mind fuck, no?) My point is, in my best friend, my little (but older) brother, smarter than me (but less wise in the way of like, people and life), all these things have done an absolute 180 in that same profile from 24 years ago for my best friend, mi mejor amigo. There are few people I know in the world that are truly always the same. Some argue that who you are is who you are, and that's it, and although periferal things may change (where you live, who you hang with, etc) you're always the same. But I think in this way, we can categorize it in to two groups, those who are conscience of themselves, and other peoples's opinion of them, and those who don't. I definately belong to the first category and probably in an extreme (no coincidence, this type of personality "trait", is what leads me to being a "changling", a phrase I relate with, and feel that I am. I think I was 23 or 24 years old before I actually realized that it didn't matter a fucking damn what any one else thought of you, it only really matters what you think of you. I've always known that's how you should feel, and think, but I never really got it. Well, I could write a whole novel about my "issues". My point is to illustrate the contrast, in the person who is my best friend. I know a few people like this, and I am at times a little envious, particularly when I was younger and more insecure; these are those who no matter what, stay completely naive, and in fact, self-sheltered and totally unbeknownst, to the world around them. And I think because of this, they don't really ever change. Except for whatever the few things are that they are focused on. And in the few people I know like this, their focus on these things that make up their world, they are absolutely focussed, genius, understading and interactive with. Anything else, it might as well not even exist, for all they can see. Might as well not even exist, think about that. My best friend is this way, so is my son. These are the people that truly are always the same, regardless of when or what situation. When my parents, or Elijah's dad, or other friends, ask about the welfare and goings on of my best friend, I always feel the same response. Well, you know ________, he's always the same. I envy them, although I do see a lot of things a lot differently through different situations and experiences, than they do. I see a lot of things that these people missed. And I'm sure, if this person was into cars, (which he's not, but it's an easy example) and we walked around town, he would come away having remembered probably 100 different models, maybe the years, would've noticed any that had body work, the ones that are classic, etc. Like walking around a construction site with a carpenter, I would just see a bunch of framing. Much more intracate than that, in reality. Ah, the balance of life. But the observations that I might come away with would be totally different. I might notice language of the signs about town, or seeing couples can see which ones are happy or unhappy, and why. People, reactions, etc. That's what I see.
But regardless of these very fundamental differences between my best friend and I, he truly is my best friend. I read his journal, and to be entirely honest, I understand about 3% of it. It's like reading something in a different language, because I don't understand computers. All these people he mentions, are in a context related to something computer.... now, I'm not saying that these interactions and relationships or any less valid than having something "in person", as it were. But to me it is, and to him it's probably more real, because of the language he speaks. Such differences. He is the one person, seriously, in my whole life, even besides my parents, and I'm one of those that have a very honest and communicative relationship with my parents, my best friend is the one and only who always understands me automatically without my needing to explain a word, who's never judged me regardless of the dumb-ass things that I do, and the vibe between us is always the same: acceptance and love.
Many of you, if you've read this, know who I am talking about. And I think you would agree. I do worry, though, Paul, that you will be in another 20 years, someone whose only friends are robots that you've created, the only contact you have with the outside world (outside your head, I mean) is through your computer. I just love you.
My ode to you.