Memories

I always do this. I always blog when I have homework to do. What's wrong with me?

Anyway, my weekend was pretty nice. I have discovered that nighttime is not a good time for me to be at home alone with my thoughts, so I made sure that I wasn't at home alone with my thoughts on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday night. On Friday, I went to my old neighborhood to have coffee with High School Friend. She is a sweetheart who's a graduate student at an Ivy League but is too modest to make a big to-do about it. I had a great time talking to her about so many things. On Saturday night, Mother and I went to the state next door (it's only 20 minutes from where we live) to have dinner with Mother's Friend (the one who took me to that concert, for those of you who were around way back when). It was a night of frozen watermelon margaritas, man-bashing, singing AC/DC in the car and listening to the two of them pride themselves on how cool they are, because their mothers never hung out with them the way they hang out with me. Awesome.

Last night I called up Best Friend and returned to my old neighborhood once again to see her. We had such a great discussion while walking by the river. She's one of those people who really, truly gets me. The funniest part of the evening was when I was driving her home. She lives around the corner from where I used to live, which is why we became best friends at the tender age of seven or eight. We had been talking about how strange it is for me to see the old neighborhood and how we feel old sometimes, and as soon as we turned the corner, I saw a familiar face crossing the street. I yelled out, "Oh my God, it's Pedophile!"

Pedophile is a middle-aged man who lives on Best Friend's block. When we were in high school, he used to follow us around the neighborhood. It was creepy. Day or night, we would hear him on his bicycle, slowly keeping pace with us from behind. If we ran, he sped up. Whenever we went anywhere, he would always appear. I doubt he was a real threat, otherwise he would have done something - perhaps he was just lonely and wanted friends - but when we were out alone at night, it was scary to have a middle-aged man follow us around. Anyway, I haven't seen him in years and B.F. hasn't seen him in a long time either, and all of a sudden, here he was. Right while we were talking about change and getting older and old times. We laughed so hard.