During our vacation, we stayed with friends for part of the trip and we had dinner with my old college roommates, their wives, and their kids.
We’re all grown up. We’re thirty-somethings. We talked about our kids and our daily struggles and work. We talked about hopes and dreams and things like that.
We didn’t party. We went to a family pizzeria, which, for that night, happened to have free kid’s meals. We then went home and went to sleep, ready for the next day.
Who would have known that more than 15 years ago, when we were all in college, we’d still be friends today? Though our lives have changed for the better and though we’ve all moved away from UCLA, we can still talk as if we’re still in that tiny one bedroom apartment on Veteran Avenue, where we:
– first learned the difference between a straight-through and a crossover cable
– learned how to not make spaghetti
– learned that vodka and mirrors don’t mix
– almost got killed by a scorpion
– survived a flood, thanks to a 1st floor apartment and El Nino
…well, among other things, we learned about each other and managed not to kill each other in the process. We depended on each other then and we can still depend on each other now.
Anyway, I’ve failed Project52 this year. With work, travel, family matters, and grad school, the half hour I spent writing this is a half hour that takes away from something I need to do rather than want to do. I’ll be lucky if this becomes Project30 this year…