A wonderful time in the Big Core last weekend with
flitterkit,
epinephric, and
maxrobbin, among many other friends--some long-lost, and some newfound. It is disturbing how quickly seven or more years can drift by without seeing a good friend; it is amazing, and wonderful, how easy it can be to pick up exactly where you left off. If there is such a thing as nostalgia without
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Max is doing all right. I have no idea when he last logged in to check his journal, but he hasn't updated in a long, long time. He still checks e-mail, though; if you like, I will forward you his address.
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I miss you. We bought a brownstone in the city, rather suddenly, and if I weren't waiting for a repairman I wouldn't have a moment to check in here even yet. But I wanted you to know you were missed.
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My trip was substantially less cultured than yours, though no less pleasant, I am sure. Good friends, much relaxing, and ridiculously trendy sushi to boot. In spite of myself, I did not manage to get tagged as a terror threat while in town. All the same, I am glad that no one had to rifle through my overnight bag.
I will selfishly hope that you need to call on the repairman much more often.
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