One says she's a friend of mine.

Well, January has come and gone (almost), and my resolution to blahhhhg more has been, well, Not Followed.

I am not completely to blame. I had jury duty last week, and planned to catch up a little bit. Alas, for some reason, the Wi-Fi in the jury assembly room blocked access to Blogger. I guess that The Man didn't want me to reveal any jury secrets. Of course, I had no secrets, other than the fact that I sat in said room for two days without ever even being called out to be screened as a potential juror. Whatever.

Anyway, on to substance. After taking the time for a hundred visions and revisions, I dared to disturb the universe, and sent an email to The Punk Rock Girl. She responded, apparently Not Creeped Out by my message from out of the blue. We emailed back and forth a couple of times, catching each other up a little bit over what happened in the last [mumble-mumble] years. We even exchanged photos at her suggestion (since I am not on myspace or whatever).

All good. And it looks like we will maybe get together to catch up in person. But, as you all know, I am a man who is always puzzled by the mysteries of interpersonal dynamics and the whole boy girl back and forth. And something struck me about the back and forth, and I just had all of these questions about text, subtext, etc. In short, I needed advice and translation, and naturally reached out to one of my Imaginary Friends, who is an expert, in my opinion, on the ways in which XX and XY talk. And, naturally, she came through with some pearls of wisdom.

Quick aside -- I have, as I may have mentioned before, a whole host of Imaginary Friends. Most of them are women. They range in age from more than a few years younger than me to slightly older than me, and are in located in places far and wide. I really ought to explore this phenomenon at some point -- the fact that there is this network of intelligent, amusing, and insightful women with whom I maintain a series of almost entirely electronic and mostly platonic relationships.

Anyway, my "things that make you go 'hmmm' " thought about the PRG's email and photograph exchange was reinforced by the Imaginary Friend. Which on the one hand is a good thing because, hey, it's always nice to be told that your impression was Not Stupid. But on the other hand, when one's insight is confirmed, it doesn't really answer the question of what to do, no?

Stay tuned.