I forgot how much I hate driving around in Boulder. It stresses me out. In my mind, all I can see is bicyclists flying over the hood of my car, or stoned college students wandering aimlessly into the crosswalk when I can’t see them. I’m seized by fear. (That’s a lie. I’m very rarely seized by fear. The last time was the bungee jump in Africa. That was scary.)
I only know how to get to E’s house. So I make the familiar drive, chatting with Katie on the way up. (I love her. There is nothing more wonderful than just talking to your best friend.) I make record time – which is good, considering I left nearly half an hour later than I intended to.
E’s golden retriever Archie is the most wonderful dog in the world. He’s chewing on a squash when I get there and wants to play fetch with it. “Archie,” I say, “I love you a lot but not that much.” He finds a tennis ball instead. This is good.
E and I haven’t seen each other since our awkward breakup in City Park this summer. We talk pretty regularly, but I’ve been ditching out on plans for the last three months. Both of us were surprised to find that our meeting last night was anything but awkward. (He’s never done the friends with your ex thing before. I find that to be very familiar territory.) We went and grabbed a couple beers and caught up. It was great. We’re a really mismatched pair and it’s hilarious. He towers over me. He’s grown his beard in and now looks like a really skinny Jesus. I look nothing like a bearded Jesus or a mountain man.
We talk about life, religion, beer, love, mountain stuff. He’s impressed (appalled) by the bruises on my knees from the snowboarding. This summer, he cut his hand while trying to carve a stick to catch carp – although his official story is “fishing accident”, so he’s been healing from the surgery that followed that. We talk physics (he talks physics, I drink), crazies, Ohio.
It was good. He wants more non-science friends; I fit that bill. I’m looking forward to a nice friendship. I also still need to take him to the 1Up downtown.