learning to breathe

4 April 2005

We saw (name censored to protect the innocent) at a career fair here in Monterey. He was surprised to see us.

“You’re still here?” was written all over his face. He had shaved his head, and at first we didn't recognize him. then he smiled and started to talk.

"Randall (not his real name)," I said out loud, as if savoring each syllable. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway: He's one of the only decents I've met in my PC experience so far. Not that I'm a peach.

Sometimes I'm a sour grape--or two.

We told him that we’d be getting our invitation to the Peace Corps by the end of the week. He said if the wireless worked in the building we were in, he’d find out for us right then.

Karen said, “We’ll drive you to the campus. They’ve got wireless there.”

I thought, "I'll fucking carry you on my back. Hop on!"

But he told us to email him later, which we did.

His email: one word.

After, god, how many years, it comes down to one word.

Ukraine.