Ange is back in town again. You know what that means? That means a black dog outing is in place. That's right, and it just happened tonight. Even Trish is back. I'll actually like to hang out with them a little bit more, but I know if it gets any later I'll be crashing at Lisa's and I really want to wake up on my own bed, not the floor of a living room. Boy. We did a tequila shot and Leandro wanted to do a tequila night on Sunday. I told him no one would do that on a sunday nite. There's a few things that I always think about when I'm drunk, it's pretty odd. Like the brain is programmed to do so. Anyways, I'm yawning a lot, and I've had enough water/juice/milk after I got home. I should sleep now.
[12:51:05 AM]: I just realized I'm the kind that likes to keep old letters. [12:52:17 AM]: the sentiment of writing a letter, doesn't matter what kind, it takes effort.. [12:53:44 AM]: there is something incredibly moving about someone willing to go through all those trouble to tell you something, trivial or profound, especially when you re-read it years later and realize that the sentiment no longer exist. I was digging through store room boxes looking for some old course notes from undergrad. I accidentally discover some old letters and read through them. When I went on skype I said this. I wasn't sure if felt precious because 1) no body writes real letters anymore, 2)it marked a completely different time point in our lives where the sender find the need and the right to share whatever it was, with me, or 3)the realization that I actually got to hold on to something that I lost. Probably all of the above, depending on who you are. I wonder if anyone out there kept the let...
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