Jane, Jane,
Tall as a crane,
The morning light creaks down again;
~Edith Sitwell
What a weird week. Not only was I ignorantly and tipsily talking with a celebrity on Sunday (whom my friends are trying to get me to e-mail), not only do I have a little more money than I supposed, not only did I complete and turn in my Notre Dame application, but today I heard from an old friend with whom I haven't had contact in a couple of years.
I've known this boy since I was fifteen, the summer before my sophomore year, when we met on a vacation my family was taking to Myrtle Beach, when my cousin, not wanting to be the only boy on the trip, brought a friend who used to live down the street from him but had since moved out of state. This friend was the closest thing to a summer fling I ever had, which mellowed into the longest pen pal friendship I ever maintained. We wrote letters back and forth for four or five years, happy and fun, and then lapsed into the silence that such writing friendships usually assume with busy-ness and adulthood and a shift in pace of life.
Today he IM'd me, having obtained my screen name from my cousin, and it was great to chat. We've both changed from the time we were teenagers, but there's nothing like reconnecting with someone you've trusted for a long time.
And on another note, with the sun shining and the snow melting, the love-crazy animals are crawling out from under every bush. Today Discovery a la Sarah notices a squirrel tottering on a branch frantically flicking its tail, then moving on to another branch to continue the tail flicking. Spreading pheremones, perhaps?
Seems to me that Valentine's Day comes at a hormonally strategic time of year.
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