And out of the woodworks..

... people pop up. Just when you need them to.

It's like fate, or something.

So by now, it's no secret that I went to a university with ivied halls. So did my friend Katie (of the famed beachhouse) - but she went to that school up north. (The one whose ranks I will be joining in the fall, yes, that one. 'That', by the way, must always be said with a wrinkled nose. Because my alma mater is obviously so much better.)

It always galled her that I had more friends from her institution than she did. Not my fault she wasn't terribly social, and that whenever I went up there I met people and kept in touch. And it has served me well. More or less. Guys from that school love me. Primary examples: Nick, aka the one who just won't give up and Nicky, aka the Harry to my Sally. Hell, I've gone to more alumni socials for her school than mine.

There's another guy who used to work on a rather well-known comedy rag at that school. While it's been claimed by other people that he's had a massive crush on me.. well, I don't think so. Or I like to feign oblivion. I don't find him attractive at all, that's why. He's actually a massive dork. But he's a great one for bantering. And I like my admiring throng to have brains. (Goshdarnit, I'm such a narcissist that one would think I was a Leo or a Scorpio. But no, I'm a Virgo.) He lived above Katie her freshman year, that's how we met - I'd go upstairs to play Mario Kart with the boys while Katie studied. (I'd also go drinking with her roommates while she studied - and one wonders why I had more friends there.) He invited me to see the super-secret building that houses said comedy rag one Halloween, which is an impressive edifice indeed, full of gothic touches and secret rooms. (Katie was specifically not invited, which annoyed her to no end. Haha! Why are Katie and I still friends? Why, because I am that wonderful of a person. 'That' said without wrinkling your nose this time, please.)

And over the years, we've casually kept in touch. Hm, he needs a name. Let's call him Comedy Man, because that's his schtick. He has written for Dave Letterman and Carson Daly. And every once in awhile he gets in touch with me. Since graduation, he's been bouncing back between New York and Boston, depending on where he can get a job writing. I think it's been at least a good eight months since I've seen him at some house party in New York.

While I was sitting on my lazy ass last night, he popped up on IM.

Him: Madam?
Me: Sir?
Him: Yes indeed.
Him: It's been some time.
[Yes, we talk like this to each other on IM. It's amusing. He's weird, and I like to follow suit.]
Me: That it has.
Me: How are you? Where are you?
Him: Hollywood. And yourself?
Me: You're kidding! I'm home for the summer!
Him: Well, then it's essential that you come to a party I'm having tomorrow night.

We did some cursory catching up, wherein he said something about withdrawing contributions to his alma mater because I'll be going there in the fall. Bleeeh. They obviously need someone like me up there, all those tightasses.

Did I mention that a good half of Hollywood is staffed by grads from that school? (Again, the nose wrinkle please.) Hopefully not all of them will be there - the ones who work for the big agencies are pricks. Nonetheless, it'll be interesting to see who he invites. His parties are always full of weird and random people, but they're fun.

And, of all the lovely irony? He lives - literally - around the corner from fuckwit. So close that I thought Mapquest was going to mock me for mapping it out. Less than a quarter of a mile.

It's a small - really, a teensy - world.