I've been spending (and this will come as a huge shock, I'm sure) a lot of time over at Ben's place. We're doing the usual - sitting on chairs, staring at screens, not talking to one another. Sometimes it's nice to do that sort of thing near to the person you aren't talking to. Even when they're in the other room. (There was a funny moment just last night, actually, that had me sitting on a chair in his living room, bringing up an iChat video session with Ben, who was in the other room getting pissed at me for requesting a chat session which would automatically lower the volume of the music that was playing). I find myself usually leaving there at around 11PM, to catch a bus home.

That's always the plan, anyway. What actually ends up happening is that as soon as I walk out of the door to Ben's building, I see the bus I want to catch driving away, about two blocks from where I am. Three night in a row this has happened. Such a disaster. Although I'm reminded of something I saw a few weeks back on the L train. I was waiting for the train to Brooklyn at 1st Ave, and across the track some guy came down the stairs. As he hit the platform, he raised his arms in triumph, pumping them up and down, because he had timed his arrival perfectly. He was so psyched. I totally get that. Good times. The feeling I get with the bus is the exact opposite of that, just shaking my head and sighing. I'm crushed.

So, sometime last week I got this completely random email from someone, who said that they had moved into an apartment in Brooklyn that I used to live in (you'll remember this apartment from such blog entries as The First Entry, and Midget Porn), and that she had some letters and postcards that had been delivered to the place after I had left. HUGE! So I met up with this very nice young lady, and got the postcards (and a small package), all of which had been sent from a friend of mine who was living in Japan at the time. Such a nice surprise.

While talking to the girl, I asked if she still lived in the apartment. Evidentally, she moved out years ago, but still had been holding onto the letters. Which I would normally have thought was pretty weird, except that it came up enormously huge for me. I really wanted to get in touch with the person who sent me the letters (since this is totally the type of story she would dig the most), but unfortunately I've lost her contact information. So please forgive this personal aside - Big Ben: If you have Kimmyb's email, send it to me.

Some more things have been going on (cat peed on the bed, girlfriend came home dressed as a cheerleader and I wasn't even home to appreciate it, etc), but a lot of it has been me hanging out at youtube and looking for videos of puppys. So there we are.

More later. Love to the kids - kennyb