Shoeless Shawty,

"Once you can drink legally, you won't want to do it anymore."

Well, that's not true. And if you were thinking of telling me that once I actually can hang out with professors in social contexts that I won't want to do that either, you're once again wrong. Even as a freshman, part of my drive to get through the undergraduate step and press on to graduate school was the hope that someday, the professors would accept me as one of their own and invite me to poker night, and to play pool at dive bars. The former hasn't happened, but the latter has. I don't think it's the kind of thing to make a habit of, but it certainly inspires warmth. As I bought everyone their second round of beers, I felt so warm: my veins were twinkling strands of Christmas lights.

Now, of course, it's different. It's an occasional and welcome treat, rather than a pressing need. I no longer spend hours on the internet, plumbing its depths for clues to the identities of rock-stars-turned-neuroscientists, or IM-harass professors who dine on entrees of infant. Nor, interestingly, do I watch reruns of my favorite television shows over, and over, and over, and over... You think there's a connection between those two dwindling interests?

I do. I think it's partially because I miss you, Shawty. I'm realizing that there is something to this whole human interaction thing...

We cycle, you and I. For months, it's all calls and emails and mutual creativity. And then for months more, most of my updates come courtesy of your cryptic status updates on the Great Allah of Social Networking. When I read them, I wonder: what could you possibly be referring to when you mention forks and prostitution? Surely it's something big. Surely, huge things are happening in your life. I'd like to know what they are, lover.

I envy your fores to India, to tropical isles, to bustling Canadian cities... You've said before that your impulse to travel to such places feels like you're running, but surely you've gained some unique insights into the state of the world through those endeavors, even if they were only incidental to your goal to get out of this place or that one... At this point, I think that if I ever experience such places, it'll only be incidental to my goal of following this person or that one out of this wicked little town.

See you soon.

I hope your holiday is full of twinkling lights and eggnog.

--Old Saint Nomad