...making it easy...

Iman called me at 8:30 this morning to tell me the good news: her brother is finally awake and it looks like the surgery went quite well, with minimal damage from being unconscious so long. Incredible relief. I had been really worried the past couple of days, and she was a wreck, so this was really good to hear.

Remember we had a plan for lots of sleep? It didn't quite happen. Sir Nick called around one to go get drinks, and I was intrigued at the concept of "getting drinks" in Thornhill. What did it mean? Where would we go? Does Thornhill even have bars? Apparently it does, and (maybe because of its suburbanish location) the one we went to was somewhat fluid on the idea of "last call". Came home whopping headache around 3:30. But such fun!

Summer is a funny thing. It seems as soon as the university year ends, I pick up with the friends I knew in high school. During the course of the year, we speak really only a couple of times, brief catch-ups in the midst of other insanities. But the week exams are over, a summer of deliciously nerdy mayhem and late night antics ensues, and it's as if time didn't pass at all: we are where we were, and exactly how we were. Monday bingo with Dee and Rachel; greasy-diner escapades with Inna and Laura (ladies: we are overdue. We need to get on this), and various bad decisions with Sir Nick, who I hearted all through high school and secretly still do. Time is an odd thing that way. Sometimes it seems to have no effect at all. After all these years, we can go weeks and months without speaking to each other, then reconnect seamlessly. I am grateful for that - these forever friends who are always there for me, and for whom I am always here.

Before the nostalgia got in the way, the point of this story was "oh god, my head hurts". Damn you Nicholas.