Just got off the phone with Buckaroo Bonsai, who I haven't spoken to in over three years. (You go searching through my archives. It's more energy than I'm willing to expend on the guy at this point.)
Yes, he called. (You don't think I would, do you?)
Here's the really hysterical part -- he said he was thinking of me because a really historic thing was happening tonight -- OBAMA is going to be on Letterman for the whole show!
Clearly he never listened to a damned thing I ever said, and he never reads this blog, or he'd know how little I cared about that.
Fortunately, I'm out of the house, and not in a place where I can or would hold a telephone conversation. The language wouldn't be pretty.
He's calling me on Saturday, and I'm going to firmly shut that door and put the deadbolt on. I left for good reasons, and I'm not going down that road again.
Oh, sure -- I want to know what in the world he's thinking... and then again, I don't. You don't pack up all your stuff and move out in less than 24 hours, start and settle into a new life, make new friends and move on, just to rip the scar off that old wound again.
Healed. Got smarter. Moved on.