The fever is broken. For now.

I traveled today to the city I've most called home, to see the girls who gave my high school years all the very best memories. It was exactly what I needed. We were all of us miserable, but together we achieved some catharsis. I am not happy to say that my troubles were mild in comparison, though perspective is a necessary thing.

What to call these friendships? How to describe the inexplicable endurance of this connection between us, these people I now see less than a dozen times a year? It is something intangible, elemental, that I can only be grateful for. I know it will not always be there, that it is perhaps gasping its final breaths even now. I am grateful all the same.

And Smith drama, I must say, has nothing on the pedestrian, lower class theater of Fulton, NY.