No Matter Where You Go, There You Are.

              "I had thought, fiercely believed, sniffled, shouted and pushed, kissed, groped, slaked, baked, yearned and sacrificed and oh, look! Look   at the couples, some visibly nervous, some smiling, and one particular groom with what must have been a death wish because there, in his beloved mint green polo, was  Kev..."

          So one of those aforementioned ex-friends is getting married this year. Let's call her Goldie.           I knew it was coming, since I've met her fianc é  and he's a fantastic match for her, blah blah, but...still, it's quite the moment when you hear about a major upcoming event in the life of someone you used to care about very much who is now a stranger. You can be struck by a memory or two without any preparation. It makes me wish I wasn't sentimental. By the way, I don't have many ex-pals but to you, dear readers, I've spoken at length about one and mentioned one or two more. Some of them I went to school with for ages, so our history, good and bad, is now ancient but still profound, and Goldie is one of those people.

"...She's a female version of Archie Bunker, a canine Cartman."

Check this out! I picked up Chinese for dinner tonight for myself and my roommate and got some Kung Fu Panda 3 fortune cookies with the meal!

Hint: The lead singer of Every Time I Die writes amusing short essays that answer reader questions, and he once compared those unpleasant moments where you're pressured about marriage to the movie  Gremlins .

I woke up in the wee hours of Saturday, Oct 31 hearing footsteps on pavement and a young voice shouting, "HELP! Please HELP! She's not breathing!" I woke up a bit, listening, heart speeding up. It was awful and it wasn't over. The shouting continued, "Please help, she's not breathing!" and I was up out of bed, trying to ensure that my breathing stayed calm despite my heart rate. My fingers closed around the edge of a curtain while I visually combed the street outside my window. This was so disconcerting...and then...

I enjoy this show in ways that I couldn't do with Revenge , that particular style of soap having too many suds for my taste, like Victoria Grayson's biological son, a stripper being paid to lie to David, a lot of characters with no chemistry claiming to love each other, blah, blah. American Horror Story  hasn't premiered its latest season yet, I didn't want the medical jargon and beeping machines of something like Grey's Anatomy, and as I already implied, Revenge  lost my interest after a while. I came back to it just days ago to skip around episodes on Netflix...and put it aside to try the Ali Larter/Sean Bean show Legends.