I've been having a think recently about the nature of my passions. It started with how I tend to deal with games, bands and authors that I like, but it's led on to how I feel for people as well, as I suppose it would in the end. This is predominantly due to my being bored and therefore introspective.

This is how I develop affections for things like bands, games, authors, TV shows and, in some cases, food:

1) I get a taste of the item in question and decide that I love it.
2) I partake of this item in as great abundance as humanly possible for a few weeks.
3) I get bored with this item / find another item to devote my attention to / decide I am in the mood for an entirely different genre / some combination of the above
4) Item in question gets left on the proverbial shelf for weeks, months or, in some extreme cases, years.
5) Something reminds me of my love for that item and I go back to it, getting hold of whatever has been produced by its makers that I've missed in the interim.
6) Repeat 1-5.

It's not that I have a short attention span, I don't think. It's just that there's so much in the world to see and hear and learn and enjoy, and a limited amount of time in which to do it all, so I find it beneficial to just immerse myself in Passion of the Month and then move on to the next, so I have a wide range of things to go back to when my boredom coincides with a lack of motivation to find something new (because finding new hobbies, activities and general ways to keep an overactive brain busy gets wearing after awhile). For the last 25 years, I've been sort of collecting hobbies and activities like some sort of a demented magpie. Writing's been the one standby, but when I consider the sheer number of bits and pieces I've developed an interest in over the years ... well, it gets a bit mind-boggling.

The thing is, I rarely if ever actually lose interest in any of these things. What happens is that I develop at least a basic knowledge of the thing in question, whether it's collecting a few albums or learning how to put a computer together, so that the knowledge is still there (if a little rusty) when I want to go back to developing it again. That's why I say it's not a short attention span thing. I know full well that someday, I'll get a reminder from out of the blue that I liked that thing, probably when I'm bored out of my skull, and presto! Instant hobby.

Which brings me, in a way, to how I feel about people. I don't 'lose interest' in people, obviously, or just set them aside because I'm bored, because people have actual emotions and you just don't treat them like inanimate objects (and besides, human beings are interesting and varied and changing enough so that they don't get boring). However, much like my interest in my hobbies or entertainment, it takes an awful lot to actually get me to stop liking someone, to the point where I don't even want to be around them anymore. Even in cases where a relationship has ended in a particularly ugly way, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of former friends and lovers upon whom I don't look back with at least some fondness and a memory of the good times. Like with bands who have produced singularly shitty albums in the later parts of their careers, I remember the 'good ol' days' and that sustains my affection for them, even if it is no longer reciprocated.

And thus we come to the last difference between the things I love and the people that I love. I can pick up where I left off listening to Silverchair or making jewellery. The friendships I've lost through distance or shitty situations or whatever? Those can't be picked up where they left off, for the most part. At least with hobbies, bands and authors there's no interpersonal baggage standing in the way.

...Well, okay, except for having the minor problem of reconciling my love of Metallica's music with the fact that the band is made up of at least 75% pure arsehole.

Trying to figure out the best way to talk about Valentine's Day without the entire thing devolving into "Fuck you fuck you fuck you".

Actually, that's not fair. Valentine's Day as a concept I have no real problem with. However, it seems to be serving as a reminder this year of the fact that I don't have anybody and am not going to have anybody. Probably ever. Now, before you go thinking that this is me going into self-pity and delusions of teenagerdom, this is less whinge and more logical evaluation of my current circumstances and my own way of dealing with people.

Yes, I have many fine qualities, if you like that sort of thing. Intelligent, witty, loyal, blah blah blah. I might even be ... well, attractive, at least ... in the right light. However, there are a few things that I'm just not. Romantic, for one. Particularly sensual, for another. And if the touchy-feely thing is a benchmark for the success of a relationship, I'm either going to have to get in touch with my feminine and/or romantic side (but how, without practice?), learn to fake it really well (which negates my entire core of "any relationship of any depth that I pursue must be as emotionally honest as I can make it") or get to grips with the fact that I'm not going to have a One True Love at any point.

Which, okay, kind of sad. Still, it's not something I necessarily miss unless I'm reminded of it in any solid way. Under most circumstances, my friends being soppy at each other don't count -- it means they're happy and if they're happy, so am I. Friend who also happens to be ex-boyfriend griping about how expensive romantic Valentine's meals/bookings are? That counts. (I don't blame him, mind you, but it counts.) Having to shift around my gaming session because of apparently last-minute Valentine's Day plans among my players? That counts too. (I don't blame them either, but it still counts.) Valentine's Day in general? Counts.

So I include in this entry the little Public Service Announcement I wrote on the subject last year, when I looked in danger of becoming an Unreal Tournament widow on the day: How to Lower Your Standards on Valentine's Day.

Whingeing ends. We now return you to your regularly scheduled net-surf.