flakes, flakes, all flakes
My boss was supposed to call me at 1:30. This other guy is supposed to call me whenever he gets any of the two messages I left with his secretary, or call my boss whenever he gets the two messages my boss left. And I'm sitting here having writer's block and trying to work on this conference paper. Bleah.
Otherwise, all is good, if boring, around here. I'm leaving tomorrow to go to Cleveland for the weekend. It feels like I'm never in town, but I really didn't mean to be away this much. It's just that my parents keep giving me plane tickets... I'm going home specifically for GA, the Unitarian Universalist annual national meeting, which should be a trip. I wonder if any of my old friends will be there... I did hear from one of them who isn't going, but saw my name on the list, but he wasn't a close friend.
I keep seeing Piper in my dreams. I think this is a bad thing -- if she is there, at GA, this weekend, will I even know how to talk to her anymore? I think I will -- I think I'd be able to yell out "Piper, is that really you?" and suddenly the world would stop for a few minutes. But I doubt she'll be there -- I don't even know if she's still in the Midwest.
It does, however, bother me that people who were once my friends
are now mere symbols for parts of my life that have ended. It makes me wonder which of my current friends will have been reduced to memory-cards in five or ten years. Memories are slippery things, and mine have been calmly sneaking out of the cabinets I put them in when I wasn't looking. But it doesn't bother me all that much, since my life has gotten *better*, so more recent memories are mostly more fun anyways. Losing depressing memories isn't as bad as losing happy ones, though I can think of some of those that have gotten clouded, too.
I could do without remembering how *booooooring* it is to sit around here and play minesweeper because my brain is still out to lunch.