Next thing you know, I’ll find out that my dad is really Darth Vader.

The summer I turned 21 I was interning at a commercial production company and working 60 hours a week in an Italian restaurant. It was a hectic few months in Boston which ended when I had a total breakdown and moved back to Syracuse, but while I still had my shit together I met this girl, a fellow intern, who was really cool. On my birthday we went out for lunch, got wasted on margaritas, then spent a few hours sharing cigarettes on the roofdeck of our building. I never talked to her again after leaving my job, but I thought of her occasionally, in that anecdotal way you think of people you liked at some point but weren’t close with.

Last week, we passed each other on the stairs of the Eastie YMCA.

Apparently, she also just moved to East Boston and teaches evening yoga classes. I was pretty weirded out, because seriously, I hadn’t seen this girl in like SIX YEARS and she recognized me right off the bat.

Then there was the well-documented meeting of Jenny (HELLO, bad header! How are you today?), which made me believe in fate and also reminded me that I really need to start doing something with my hair in the mornings, since she looked all nice and professional and I looked like a big ball of wax. It was an odd situation, mostly because I occasionally run these scenarios through my head like, I’m out at a bar and, oh, there’s Jenny! Or, oh, hey, I’m in DC, here’s Boozie! (it really happened, it was planned.) But for someone I know from the “online realm” just plum showing up in my office, well, that’s weird.

In the building where I live, we’ve met our landlord, on the top floor. We’ve also met the couple that lives above us on floor #2. We know there’s a girl living in the basement unit, too, and we haven’t met her yet but I almost stole her Netflix the other day. (apparently, we’re on the same video schedule.) So as I was leaving work last night, I got an email from a friend of Sarah, who found my blog through her blog. This is almost too weird to say, but the girl who emailed me is the girl in the basement apartment. THE GIRL IN THE BASEMENT APARTMENT THAT WE’VE NEVER MET IS A FRIEND OF MY BLOG-FRIEND AND FOUND ME THROUGH HER BLOG.

Yesterday I got rear-ended at a stop light on Comm Ave. There was very little damage, but the guy who hit me was really apologetic and a little strange. He gave me his name and number, and then showed me his ID for verification. Apparently, he works at BU. This morning, while buying more baby powder for Katsumi’s sensitive tush, I saw the guy in CVS and ran away in a panic.

Anything else, Universe? Anything else you want to FREAK ME OUT WITH this week? Because seriously, what’s up.



There’s one more thing I forgot about. Until I was three, I lived outside Buffalo in a little town called Williamsville, NY. Then we moved here. Jen lived outside of Boston and now lives in Williamsville. Like, a second from the house I lived in when I lived in Williamsville. Not quite as fucked up as getting an email from the girl below you saying “hey i know you from online”, but also a bizarre coincidence that could stand on its own, were it not dwarfed in magnitude by all the other weird shit that’s been going down lately.

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