So not bad, as far as parties go. Not bad at all.
I spent the night with a few friends from high school, and a few of their friends, and a few of their friends' friends. About a dozen of us, none over the age of 35, yet three of us were cancer survivors: one had testicular cancer, one had lymphoma, and lastly little old me. It seems like that shouldn't be the case. Too many of us are getting sick far too young these days. Or maybe we were always sick, and only now, with this generation, do we have the capacity to notice. Anyway, onward to happier things.
I have some great stories from that night but sadly they are not mine to tell. At least, not just yet. One was equal parts embarrassing and romantic, and ended with a woman from my past quite eager to see me again soon. She was actually my first kiss - if you'd like to call it that - just a peck on my cheek on a dare from her friends, back in the first grade. Thankfully little more than that at the time, as "elementary school sweetheart" sounds profoundly creepy. Maybe we can build something a little more significant this time around.
The party did me a world of good. I felt like my old self; sharp and quick, able to elicit laughter in one moment and contemplation in the next. Yet I'd set aside that cautious, neurotic part of me that had always held me back.
Not a bad way to start a new year.