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There also are the things we exchange with people who are not quite friends, and that often are what blog posts consist of: the pre-wrapped, formulated anecdote or idea, that is to the more difficult, less polished, need-advice-or-just-your-ear kind of stories and daily mush of minutiae what a trailer is to bricks and mortar. It creates a temporary connection -- "I am telling you about me" -- but isn't the same as opening up your mind and heart without already knowing where the funny part is. There's a falseness in that sort of intimacy, like a comedian telling you about his marriage.


I've thought something similar, only my metaphor is junk DNA. You hear that there are important genes that do this-and-that, but there is also much more junk DNA, which doesn't seem to have an identifiable or specific function, but which is indeed terribly important. It's just not clear exactly how. But it's there and it's more than necessary. It holds everything together.

Similarly, there are big events in your life, but it's the quotidian, ordinary, close-to-the-bone stuff that is truly important.


Sherry, i'm curious to know: It seems like a lot of what comprises mortar are things that happen kind of spur-of-the-moment, like, "Would you look at that guy? What a ridiculous hat - I love it!"

Of course, one could always share these little things after-the-fact, but what I'm wondering is, how do you (personally, or even abstractly) share the mortar with people who are physically distanced from you? (As is the case with Mr. NBT right now, and perhaps some of your other friends, too.)

I guess this is really just a, "How do you make friendships, separated by distance, work?" question. :)

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