Anyhoo (yes "anyway" was already taken).

So having had LD for PC on ST reveal his interest in someone who is frequently at a series of events I do not frequent but of which know the co-founder, VD, and having had weakly attempted to find the required guy by Facebook (right, so it's not VD himself, the other founder doesn't match the description, so it's one of these thousand-odd 'friends', though he must have slimmed down at bit because it is now under a thousand), and failed, my mind lingered on it overnight.

And then I realised. Not only who it might be, but because this guy, VD's childhood friend, went to the same uni (well, one of them) at the same as me, I once, during a slightly mutable first year found myself alone at dinner in halls, so did my normal trick in such circumstances of going up to the nearest isolated person, asking if the obviously free space was free, then joining them and talking to them while eating, and one of them was him.

And what struck me last night, while remembering just how offhand, dismissive, rude, frankly odd many of these people were, just how deservedly alone they were, was that I did that once. I could go up to strangers, thrust myself upon them armed with nothing more than pleasantness and hope.

You know how my brother mentioned that initial placebo euphoric surge me was like me as a teenager, and that I thought there I felt like old me*, proper me, the me that me forgot? Except that surge me didn't even get close to what past mes have done, didn't remember them and that.

Great, that summit which is far above me now is only a false summit, a quirk of erosion, breaking into a slope fractionally less steep.

Thinking back, trying to find evidence of that me, I'm left wondering what the hell happened, that now I get as far as seeing happy photographs of others doing life, and think maybe one day.

That and a word from a film (the MNIIMYKMFPTD one).

And now as it's a Friday night and I'm young and in the centre of the known universe I'm going to discover that the BroSIL's DVD collection is seriously lacking in musicals.

Anyhoo,

PS. LD, if you're reading this, which you won't be, the guy you might be thinking of is the downwind, sheltered side of the verb for spending a season on holiday somewhere.
PPS. A different doctor for a different thing told me to come back in four months. Aren't waiting lists handy?

* This was originally typed as "odd me", which is less obviously true but perhaps no less so.