I saw a good kung-fu movie the other day. I normally do not get to watch movies, but power was out at work and I was sick with I guess a stomach bug, so TV veg was bliss. It was Iron Monkey.

I have another post(s) I am not posting. It involves apologies, groveling, explanations (a lot of soul searching as of late, I don't ever want to repeat loosing a friend, I've done it before, see below), begging, and quite a bit of grief-stricken prose, but for the sake of Shawen's sanity, and therefore mine, I am not posting it or any others. And really, I guess, I have to forget about the fact that my misguided admiration caused me to lose one of the major positive aspects of my life. I really miss that stinky dusty place (my dungeon away from my home dungeon), and I have more than a foreboding that I will never get to walk through the door again.

This is not the first friendship I turned to shit. I did it to Clair. And now, after God only knows how many years, Clair and I have found each other once again. I am overjoyed, yet curiously numb. Will I mess up again? I told myself no this time, and look what happened. I am three miles away and yet unfeasibly distant.

Clair is an amazing soul, and three days later I'm still kind of jarred that I could be so lucky as to be able to be some minute thought in her head.