Thanks Forgiving

I had a good holiday. I would mention the name of the holiday, but I am part of the War on Thanksgiving, so I'm obligated to call it a holiday.

The past always creeps up on holidays no matter how much I try to stay detached... and I never try to stay detached. This year I stumbled across two interesting things. The first was a folder-full of e-mail paper copies from my 4th girlfriend, Cyndi, during the post-relationship-but-can-we-still-be-friends days of the very late 90's. The only page I read by her began with, "Look you fuck!" and only got more distant from there. In case you were wondering, it was the last page of the stack. The second item of interest I found this holiday was the online resume, with e-mail address and phone number, of my first girlfriend, Kathy.

By the resume, she seems to have become very much the success I always knew that she could become. I'm very happy for her. Her name is the same, so it populated my computer simply by a Google search of her name. Yet I am disturbed, as usual.


A part of me is Rob from High Fidelity - wondering what the hell happened to me where women are concerned and who can give me the best objective review. But part of me just wants to know that Kathy is doing well.

In case you were wondering if I were foolish enough to send her an email, I did. It was a holiday greeting, brief and confusing. I don't fully expect her to reply, and I'm not so sure I want her to. There is nothing I want from her. There is nothing I really feel I need to tell her about myself. I think I just wanted her to know that I'm still alive and I hope she feels the same. Being Rob isn't really that much of me anymore.