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Woah! There's a new short story called "Shade," by my Viable Paradise instructor Steven Gould (pictured) posted on Tor.com for all to read! It's set in the Jumper-verse -- the one of the books, not the meh movie, thankfully, cause I frickin' love those books.

I wish I did not have a deadline right now...

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I'd been looking forward to this for a while, but by the time last night rolled around, I wasn't so sure.

Things were going to kick off around 6:30 at a bar named Vinny's -- which I've actually been to before, for Brett's bachelor party -- but I knew this was bullshit. The time I mean, not the bar. It's a nice bar, actually.

So i hung at home until almost 7pm, watching my nephews play Lego Indiana Jones, and was even later when I tried to go to Vinny's via River Street. The bridge is still out, so I had to go up to Main and then East Ave., to get to the other side of River and the bar. I parked about 7:07, my chest tight. For no good reason, I was a bundle of nerves. It as like a high school dance all over again.

I didn't have to worry. The first classmate I saw was Mike Sterns, a guy who was like a brother to me in high school, and seeing him almost made me cry, cause I didn't think he was going to be there at all. Next I saw Keith -- he and Mike were closer than any two real brothers I knew in school -- who I'd seen just a couple years ago but it still felt like forever. He looks amazing, a completely bald head and no glasses, where as 20 years ago he was all hair and lenses. I'm thankful his wife Jen dragged him. As soon as Mark showed up, it truly felt like the four of us had not been separated by so much time and space.

Of course, the fact that we're not the "Bennett Street Gang" anymore -- a phrase Mark came up with in 7th grade, when he found out that five kids constitutes a "legal gang," though maybe the term should be "illegal gang" -- is my fault. It's no big secret that by the time senior year rolled around, I'd had it. I wanted out. Out of the school, out of the city, out of the life I was living which felt like nothing but pain. College was my ticket out (I didn't realize the hormones would be coming WITH me) and I made no bones about it and was a right big dick about it, too. Mark's mom, a wonderful woman named Mickey who passed away several years ago now, once took me aside and told me as much -- that I was jeopardizing a lot with my attitude. It didn't stick. The stuff that was hurting my chemical-laden brain at the time had nothing to do with my friends, but I was ready to ditch it all for the change I thought I needed. I take full responsibility for not being friends with my friends. I hope, not for the last time, I can change that. (Now watch me slip right back into the basement and forget I made this pledge. I'm a creature of habit. Thank god I have Mark and Lt. Col. Bill that still talk to me.)

So, the drinks flowed, the laughs ever increasing. I only bought myself one drink all night (and I had plenty).

The names and faces came slow with some, quickly with others. There were people I hoped to see, some I dreaded. Among the people I talked with (mostly maiden names, and some probably not spelled right -- i don't have my yearbook with me): Phil Cavaletti, Casey Sirianni, Ken Green, Michelle Loper Flaitz, Kevin Bartell, Myron Secondo, Emily Schutes, Kerry Jeffery Davis, Carl Marino -- who's a god-damn model, and I jokingly said to him, "jesus, you look like a goddamn model, what are you doing." him: "Uh, I'm a model." -- Heather Gross, Arlie Harwood (he broke the knews that my high school girlfriend (who he dated first) would not be making it, to my utter relief), Dawn Reinhart, Van Chevalier, Bill Ormsby, DJ Capaluzzi, and I'm sure I'm forgetting many.

A couple of girls had emailed me a while back to see if I was going, and I spent a lot of time talking to them, cause they rock. Karen Hovorka came in all the way from Nevada. She is a total knockout in all ways. Tonya Swackhammer James came in from Boston area, where we used to be neighbors. It was great to see them both, and I'm looking forward to catching up more tonight.

Carrie Kochek (nee Robertson) had also emailed me (that shitty classmates.com site can occasionally be useful, who knew?). I don't know if she got my "The Picture of Dorian Grey" reference when I saw her, but suffice to say she doesn't look her age. Long time readers of this blog -- all three of you -- will no doubt remember my mentioning TGIWOW^TM. That's her. Of course, now she's been regaled by Mark and others about how just awesome this blog is, so she'll probably read it. Em-BARE-assing. Though it's not like it was a big secret to anyone with eyes and a brain. I was the only one who thought it was a big secret. Still, it's much easier to write about people who aren't reading it.

Mark-- apparently the biggest fan this blog has, proving again his lack of taste in entertainment -- thinks I Twitter too much. He likes the long boring posts. Mark, this one's for you! (And I'm glad you liked the post about your birthday.)

As the night wore on, the banter never ceased, and Carrie pointed out to Mark's girl-friend Megan how the dynamic, at least with Mark and I, had not changed much (I did point out that he's got a bigger vocabulary). Mark has decided that my (so-called) writing career to date is all because of him, pointing out that night of Brett's party, during which he drunkenly chastised me for blowing it when it came to writing. He called himself "my muse." (shudder).

That was 2004, and the turn around for my writing did come soon after, so maybe he's right.

Or it was a coincidence. I say we go with that. He will not be my Calliope. No! I want Olivia Newton-John, minimum.

Mike grew increasingly drunk, fell into a crowd of townies, and not long after that Keith and Jen walked him home. I hugged them both good-bye -- they won't be at the dinner tonight -- and felt like I was losing something again. Mark and I talked about the fact that we're not all that far away, we should get together once a year at least. And I hope we do.

We didn't clear out until after 1:30am. Go, Party-Eric!

So, tonight, the more formal dinner. Just as much drink. And an after-party. Then Sunday -- real life again. I dread that almost as much as I was dreading going into that bar yesterday, which turned out to be one of the best nights I've had in a long time.

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• 09:35 End of era: eBay will no longer do auctions. is.gd/1LGu No shock though, the site hasn't offered an auction bargain in years. #
• 20:19 is it petty to request a 72 cent refund from Amazon after a price drop on a product I already bought? No, I didn't think so either. #

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