mysterious strangers from ze past

So I got back last night from a very nice 3-day weekend at my parents' cottage. I ran, swam, played tennis, ate, did a lot of hammock duty -- did everything except sing songs around a campfire.

Yesterday afternoon in Toronto, before catching the train to Montreal, my friend James met me for an ice cream cone outside city hall. You know, the soft serve kind with chocolate dip. mmm. So we sat in the last warm rays of summer and caught up, which was great. James was one of my best friends in high school, and now he's one of my only friends from high school.

James now goes to UCLA, where he started a PoliSci doctorate last fall. You know who else goes to UCLA, for a doctorate in PoliSci? My ex-boyfriend, David. Well, ex-lover really, but who says those things? Our intermittent flings culminated in a backpacking trip across Central America, two weeks into which the relationship spectacularly imploded. Is it too Freudian to say that we travelled as brother and sister for the rest of the trip? He's a great guy, and he's French, but it just wasn't.

So James updated me on what David has been up to, not all that much, but it was actually more than I wanted to know. Which is funny. Because that's when you know you're really over someone - when you care but don't really care about what their current life is like.

Moreover, when James set off for UCLA, I told him about David and told him that under no circumstances could he mention the connection through me. I guess that was then, because yesterday, I realized I really don't care. I hope those two become friends and um, make academic brain children together.

And if they talk lots about me, so what because I feel pretty fucking fabulous these days. [Okay, I just went for a run so I'm on a high. but still...]

okay you lurkers, leave a comment. i'm sure everyone can relate to this.