Sometimes, I get a little sentimental. I think to myself, "Hey Jofur, if you could, would you go back to those TA days?" "...No," I say. "There's just too much crap I'd have to redo. Tell you what, Jofur, I'd be pretty down for a visit, though." "Yeah, that'd be pretty cool..." "Good talk." "...I guess."

Well, I can't actually visit, but here's how I'd like it to go (won't really bother with realism--this is my visit):

I'm sitting on the brown couch...(Can't really remember the name of the couch--the white one was Paulo (I know, I know: the brown one shoulda been "Paulo," right?). This would all feel a lot less racist if the brown couch were a yellow couch...I think the couch was Steven. Yeah, we'll go with Esteban.) I'm sitting on Esteban, a lukewarm beer going lukebodytemperature in my hand, contrasting the cooling of the day, the sun dropping like a mike, finally walking out on the crowds of clouds who'd been booing (and hooing) most of the day. A guitar (Lueck's) sits in my lap, wagging its tongue, anticipating another treat. "Don't worry, you'll get what's coming to you, you sorry little pup," I whisper creepily. I lean back and close my eyes, remembering better than to expose them to a certain interior design choice. Please, no. Three-quarters of the aesthetics didn't quite work for me, and four-quarters of the concept didn't either. Those quarters weren't turning to dollars any time soon.

Enter GRACE. "I'm home!" Her voice is always friendly at first. "This Grace!" I call out. Think "disgrace" and "this guy..." combined. "This guy!" Grace reflexively responds, clobbering the stairs up to her room, stopping on the first landing to lean over with a quick, "Grace in yo face!" before slamming her door behind her. Another sassquatch sighting?

Enter JILL. "Uuuugh, what a day...I--" I notice how brown Esteban is and look again to the guitar, then to my beer, and back again at the guitar. "Never fear, beer is here...never fear..." Jill is still talking. "...and people never listen, you know? Maaaan...I'll just read Return of the King again. I'll be in my room for...a while." "Yeah Jill, that's cool......hey, remember we're going out for dinner?"

Enter SOMEONE. "Let's go, fools!" Chan's IV! Rivulets of delight course beneath a stark face drier than the ball of Cappy's right foot. I hope. "C'mon, fools!" I call. "There's like, nothing in the fridge," I comment nonchalantly to no one in particular. Someone responds, "Yeah, reminds me of the South." I hide a grin. But someone plays seek. "Nice weather, eh, Roomie?" "Not a cloud in the sky!" "There's been all kinds of cloud today!" The sun was shining...in our hearts! But we'd never let it through--maybe after we were through with college, by email or something.

Done with dinner and each other, we sit down for another episode of Boys Over Flowers. This is a good one. The chick that is kinda Jandi's only love rival shows up and I think I'd pick her over flowers, too. "God, I hate this show," Jill gushes. "Shuddup 'n watch, bitch!" someone says. Grace laughs, says, "I hate it too but we gotta finish it. We just gotta!" I love these guys and wish we could always just have fun together and I'd never have to tell them that I do. But...

"Visit's over, Jofur." "Before this episode of Boys Over Flowers is even over?" "Yeah, it's our fave, but we have to wave goodbye now." "Ddongchim you, Jofur. Frikkin' take one up the--" "I know: you love them too. But it's over for now." "Okay...good talk." "...Guess so, huh?"

I binge on the nostalgia sometimes. Must be a melancholic. The aftertaste is especially bittersweet 'cause I don't know whether anyone will actually ever read this. Maybe someday one of my old housemates will stop by this good ol' site and visit when they're a little mental, too? They are treasures to me. They are in my heart.

I hope
To heaven
We'll be
Eternally.