Downtown Millbrae was even more surreal than usual today. I felt like I was in one of those bizarre commercials involving lots of music. There's a recent car commercial that comes to mind, but since I don't remember what car it's for I can't be more specific than that.

People from high school have found my journal! Specifically Jeremy Bales and Kerri Dunn, except now they're the Dunn-Bales, having gotten married at some point last year. Rick (another high school friend) told me about the marriage, but it didn't really hit home for me until I saw their email. Very nice email it was, too, saying all sorts of things which made me remember how much I enjoyed hanging out with them (separately -- Jeremy was someone I saw a lot when I was a frosh, and Kerri when I was a junior -- I've never had the opportunity to see them together), and other general high school nostalgia. For the most part my teenage years were hellish, but occasionally something like this pops up to make me remember the good points. There really were many of them.

I've started to write back what I hope is a coherent letter, trying to say 'I want to stay in contact with both of you' without sounding like an obsessive psycho freak. Which I happily note is something I worry about much less these days; it used to be any time I'd try to connect with someone I'd then spend days/weeks/months afterwards feeling like they must think I'm absolutely insane for wanting that connection. Now? Not so much.

Gaming is tonight instead of tomorrow night, as Mike & Susan are going to Disneyland and will thus be out of town. I'm more or less looking forward to it, although I'm awfully tired.

I've been rereading some Barry Hughart, namely The Story of the Stone and Eight Skilled Gentlemen -- both of which are sadly out of print. These are sequels to Bridge of Birds, which is one of the best fantasy novels I've ever read. When I read the sequels a few years ago I remember thinking that they weren't very good, but it's been long enough that I'm not really sure why.

I said I'd talk about group, didn't I? Telling my story should have been scary, but it wasn't. I was terrified up until I got into the room, and then... it was like being a tape recorder. Click, I start talking, eventually I stop. I only got up to junior high, pretty much, but my throat was raw and I was absolutely drained. Numb, I guess. Now even the thought of trying to talk more about myself makes me feel exhausted. This coming session I plan to do some Q&A about all the stuff I said last time, but I don't want to do another info dump.

I sort of wish I didn't feel so disconnected from it all, but at the same time I'm grateful that I'm protecting myself. Eventually I should feel safe enough to actually relate emotionally to the things I know, but that seems like it's in the unbelievably far future.