What the hell happened last night? I was watching trashy American sitcoms and having a quiet drink of bourbon... yet half the bottle is gone. Things were a little hazy at the end...

I started reading more of the Blueshoe Back Catalogue, about when I was driving back to Brisbane and stopping in all ports along the way... my sitemeter tells me where I went but I can't remember much of it. I must have felt moved by something though because I sent an email to J which I only very vaguely remember doing, telling him that he was there in a dark hour for me and thankyou...

...ah yes, it was when I was in Sydney, at a Whitlams show, still really cut up about the Tyrant and I found myself crying in the front row... I was standing between J and Carraway though and they made me feel loved and they made me fall on the floor with laughter that night... and I remember J catching sight of me crying and squeezing my arm... and it was all I needed.

That was what I wrote about at the end of this entry and I think that was what moved me to write to him and thank him, nearly six years later. I wrote in the email that we should have been better friends than we are (I can't believe that I barely remember writing it) but we always lived in different cities and we're both slack correspondents... yet at that time, I was the one he phoned when he found out his wife was having an affair, and he was the one that I phoned to rant about the Tyrant (who, he tells me, is getting married soon... wonders never cease :).

I'm glad the email out of the blue didn't come across as weird, because it might have, but he seemed to understand, and today I have a lengthy email from him about every little thing in his life, which is such a surprise. I'm glad he understood.

I have another email today, from the Writer, that I keep re-reading. Somewhat amazingly, I am not freaking out... but I'm not ready to write about that yet either.

Before After

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