Thursday, October 14, 2004

Star of the Sea

Earlier this week I thought about whether famous people die in clusters. They do, I guess, especially if their limos crash into each other. But maybe all human activity comes in spurts. Since about July, Friendster has been basically dead for me. No one used Friendster to contact me and no new people found me on Friendster and had me add them as their friend.

Then, randomly, in about one week, there’s this flurry of activity.
  • The one I call Canada Sue, a fellow intern at Traveler, looks me up and writes me
  • Some random girl named Suzzie writes and congratulates me for my fixation on the strange death of Maddy Ferguson.
  • This guy Preston, whom Jill knows and whom I’m guessing go to me through Friendster, IMs me randomly to say he likes my journal.
And then this:
servus drew! dont get confused......

we met in a train from barcelona to cebere or something like that. cant remember the name of the station. it was last summer, im not sure anymore but i think you were on the way to paris with a friend. there was this very very strange American family with the woman who asked me if its common to eat your boogers in europe. im sure you remember them...

what a big coincidence.

by the way i was the girl with the lynch book, you wrote your mail address inside, today i was reading it again and found your address. so i decided to look if i find you here. i hope your eye is better, i still remember that you looked a little bit like thom yorke.... sorry fot that...

I haven't got a clue what "servus" means, but I was actually thinking about this girl not too long ago. I’m so glad she remembered me — and that David Lynch had something to do with us communicating again. That David Lynch — always opening doors. I’m feeling very interconnected lately.

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