Tonight I checked my subscribers for no concrete reason. I rarely think of xanga lately and I never pay attention to the few mostly dormant xanga denizens who at one time followed my ramblings, but as I scanned the mostly meaningless list of profile names I stumbled upon a few that I looked at in more detail.

I hadn't checked up on these people's lives in about two or three years so their recent events meant about as much to me as does the recent events of a distant foreign country. It was curious and sad how it felt like these people reminded me less of themselves and more of the places I shared with them and the mindset I'd had when I knew them better, since cast off like dead weight from a vessel ready to capsize from a flood of newer responsibilities and diversions. As I rewound through their intermittent and obscure writings, I felt the enormity of the distance that now separated us, and I didn't feel the need to trace all the way back to where we sometimes slowly, sometimes abruptly parted ways.

Because the fact is that each departure was launched not by a cinematic moment or anything that I dwelled on much at the time, but often by accident or neglect. And it was never decline in affinity that set these events in motion, but inconvenience. I suppose this kind of thing is commonplace, but you can't deny that it seems tragic at times. If only you knew me know.

Not all friends can be golden, though. So I hope to treat the rest of the people I meet with respect to the ones before them, knowing that I've knowingly and unknowingly cast some friends aside, who could have been more treasure than regret.

So to all those who I might have abandoned, whether or not you would use employ such histrionics to describe our sundering, if I hurt you with by either immaturity or cruelty, know that I am trying to be sorry. I can't make it up to you, in fact it doesn't really need to be made up for, but I am wiser than when you knew me for what I was.

Self-conscious note: Does this sound gruesomely pseudo-intellectual? I was unsure about "sundering", but sometimes its better to be mistaken for a thesaurus entry than repeat the word "parting" too many times in one blog.

Just a few quick news flashes for those who care to know:

• I'll be finishing my associate's at Rock Valley this semester. I suppose that's not too far behind schedule, but I feel like I've lived half of my life since I graduated high school and academically/intellectually progressed at a snail's pace. I think genius requires a measure of boredom and solitude, two ingredients I rarely have anymore.

• Amy and I have been together for over a year now, which I never would have predicted. She's a tolerant woman to put up with my ridiculousness for so long, God bless 'er.

• The apartment at Mulford Park is nearing the end of its lease and Zach is moving in with me since Dane is getting married in mid-September. Should make for interesting final act to what was The 383. I am somewhat open to options for where I go after that, but I am hoping to move back home, at least for a little while. I'd still like to go back to Chicago at some point, but for right now, Rockford has more potential for me than I used to give it credit for. Actually, what I'd really like to do is find some way to stay alive in some kind of wandering philosopher existence, without becoming an unshowered Mexican-looking migrant worker or having to give up unlimited texting and Facebook.

• I am growing more weary with Express and retail in general each day. I have worked there for over two years and been a manager for over one, and the place has finally gotten the best of my high tolerance for BS. Quotes from me at Express (I almost relish being full of it there): "If you don't love animal print, you're not American." "While he's changing, you can listen to the latest single from the French dance group Justice, who are big in Europe right now!" "Yes, I understand, but picture it with leggings and kitty heels." WTF?

• On that note, I am glad I found another job that requires use of a computer and muscles. I work part-time as a production assistant for Pablo Korona, a director who produces the best local commercials in Rockford. It's almost unbelievable how much more appealing this job is to me than Express, as in I can't believe how long I just stagnated working clothing retail in a mall.

• I miss my grandma.

That's it. Peace xanga.

When I am older and sickeningly wealthy, I'm going to invent and use a device similar in form and function to the iPod. But what is unique about this gadget is that it will include an audio/video capture and transmission feature that will beam the everyday situations of your life to a team of music critics (the kind of people who pick the soundtrack to Grey's Anatomy and Express), who will pick out the perfect song for whatever situation you are in, and send that back to the device to be played live. It could even include peripherals to monitor brain activity and heart rate so it can even judge what kind of song you'd like to listen to based on your emotions. iPods are the solution to banal lives desperate for melodrama.