27 February 2007


Sometimes I feel like a Furby.

Now that’s an odd statement, one might say. I don’t
mean that I feel plush, electronic or overpriced. I
mean that I feel like one of those toys that is really
popular for a while, and then all of a sudden people
are asking, “What’s a Furby?”

You have great friends, be they old roommates,
neighbors, or childhood playmates. One day, something
happens and you have to go your separate ways. You say
that you’re going to stay in contact and be BFFs, and
promise to call frequently, email frequently and visit
frequently. But, then the strangest thing happens –
life moves on. You meet new people, you make new
friends, your support structure that at one time
seemed decimated by the separation of you and your
friend is all of a sudden rebuilt. It looks a little
different, and operates differently, but you are
comfortable with it.

Then one day you get a Christmas card from that person
who was such an integral part of your life in the
past, and you realize that you haven’t thought about
that person for a year – since the last Christmas card
you received. And it makes you sad. You have such fond
memories of sitting in their apartment talking the
night away about your roommate who that person was
madly in love with, or her roommate who was madly in
love with you, but absolutely off her rocker. You
think about all the tough times you went through and
supported each other in. You think about how she was
the first person you ever felt comfortable talking to
about SSA. You are sad because you realize you have
forgotten about someone who used to be so important to

But then you think about it from her perspective. She
got married to an awesome guy. You could not be any
happier for her. They have a beautiful 1 year old
baby. She is finally living her lifelong ambition of
being a stay-at-home mother – and according to her
last communication with you, loving every minute of
it. You feel less sad and a lot more happy, especially
for the fact that she has done so well with her life.

Then you come back to thinking of all the other good
friends you have had in your life that have
disappeared for one reason or another. A lot of them
you have lost contact with not because you didn’t try
to stay in touch, but because they neglected to
respond to you. And that’s when you feel like a Furby.
You’re just an old toy, sitting on a shelf that people
have forgotten about.

Fortunately, I feel more like a Furby that has been
sent to the D.I. I’m sitting on a shelf of forgotten
toys, but there are a whole bunch of other forgotten
toys around me, and we’re there to support each other.

I don’t know if this post was happy or sad. It was
more of a reflection on reality than anything else.
Some of the friends you have in life you will always
consider very dear to you even if you don’t
communicate much, and others make you feel like a


Mormon Enigma said...

First of all, welcome to the MoHo blogosphere.

I really like your analogy of feeling like a Furby is sitting on a shelf at DI. I feel like that sometimes - even though I'm married, active in church, yada, yada, yada. Although, in my case, I feel more like some obscure toy that never got much attention.

Sometimes I'm jealous of the enrichment nights that the Relief Society holds for the sisters in the ward. There doesn't seem to be anything for the brethren, especially if you're not into basketball or other sports. I wonder why that is? Are straight guys just not into building relationships with other men like us gay guys are?

Loyalist (with defects) said...

My kids have Furbies so they cant be too out of date.

Your granny-date, well that just was one of the most painfully funny events ever. I am glad to hear that you survived.

Welcome to the area.

Loyalist (with defects) said...

Hey, if my kids have Furbies, they cant be too outta date.

Oh, and the granny date was one of the most painfully funny dates stories ever. Hopefully you don't have PTSD from that event. :)

Welcome to the neighbourhood.

Kengo Biddles said...

I feel like that at times...I'm glad we're all here on the shelf together.