3/4/98 -- One of the few interesting phenomena in my life has been the ability to reunite with old friends and carry on my friendships with them after an extended absence -- say, a year at least.  For example, when I was a kid, Jeff's dad forbid me from seeing him b/c he thought I was a bad influence (hah!).  After a couple of years, Jeff rebelled and we started hanging out again together, becoming better friends than ever.  Of course, now I haven't talked to him for almost a year, but that's beside the point.  Or like, with Nicole, I had lost touch with her for about a year before finding her ass on Berkeley's Psychology web site.   Well, her name, not her ass -- she's not posing for nudie pics or anything.  There's been others, but that's a brief sampling. 
     So now I hear from Sharon, who was an old college friend who went off to study in Hong Kong and is now working there.  I last saw her in December of 96' (so long ago!), and after a few e-mails, really hadn't heard from her for over a year.  She sent me and e-mail, telling me how dope everything is in Hong Kong, and how she wants to know what's up wit' me.   
     OK, there's another factor at work that makes the dynamics of this more complex than previous examples -- I had, err, have a "thing" for Sharon (what a great, all-purpose word -- "thing".  Even more serviceable than "fuck").  There have been a few great "things" in my life, maybe four or five.  Sharon's been the last of em'.  Few people generally know about my "things"; I got the impression that Michelle only discovered it when she picked it up in one of my earlier posts.  And now I'm faced with the prospect of continuing my friendship with Sharon via-long-distance, and keeping my "thing" under wraps again.  Mmm, heh-heh.  <Sigh> 
      I realize that crushes and the inability to communicate one's true feelings is amazingly high school and quite juvenile of me, but then again, what isn't.  Hell, I still read comic books.  But this is different, you know?  The last I saw Sharon, I was three classes away from graduating.  A year later, and I'm still two classes away from graduating.   And unemployed.   And po'.  I've wuz a toker who'd have made Tommy Chong proud.  Basically, I'm a worse person today than I was a year ago.  How does one explain all this?  Ach.  That's an Excedrin headache by itself. 
     So will I continue my charade of not hinting how I feel?  Of course.  Playing a part is always easier than dealing with reality.  I won't refer her to my web site,  I'll ask Michelle to keep quiet about all of this (assuming she knows, of course.   Won't I feel like Corky if I just gave it all away), and continue as best I can.  Maybe I'm being immature, or being mature, it doesn't matter.  In any case, she's a gazillion miles away in Hong Kong, probably surrounded by guys who look like Russell Wong.  So it's a moot point. 
     Speaking of Russell Wong, anyone check out that fashion spread in GQ featuring Asian actors and models?  Those Ahn sisters were fine. 
     Last nite was laundry nite. I did two loads simultaneously -- one white, one colored (segregation is in effect).  After sticking them both in the dryer and going for a run, I came back to discover my colors were all nice and toasty, but my whites were still wet.  I figured that maybe I had so many whites in there that the dryer didn't get a chance to do an effective job.  So I ran down to the Chevron to get change, came back, put another 75 cents in, and went up stairs to do crunches and read my JLA book.  I come down after 45 minutes -- still soaking wet.  So now I realize that the fucking thing is busted, and stuck on fluff mode, or something.  So instead of investing another 75 cents, I decide to try and dry them all with Ban's hair dryer.  Let me tell you, I gotta lot of socks.  After twenty or thirty minutes, the hair dryer shuts down, so then I gotta hang everything out to dry.  Well, not really hang, more like lay.  So I had socks on my trunk, on my stereo, and on my cabinet doors, underwear on the couch, and undershirts hanging from the fridge.  Amazingly, the only thing that was dry was my pillow case, which had been ranker than a bum's butt.   
     Actually, most everything is still laying out, b/c not much of it dried completely over the course of the nite, and I'm going to go to see some screenwriters' lecture with Maya and her roommate Jenny, and then have dinner with them, and then see The Wedding Singer with them.  I'm not gonna get home to around 1:00 AM or so, so my clothes had better be dry after sitting out for an hour or so.
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