Zombies. I am not sure why I am so fascinated with them. In addition to my annual zombie-themed book club (which I hosted today) and the Journey to the End of the Night, zombies is my safe way of thinking of what…apocalypse would turn like. It’s an embodiment of all our fears—losing control, taking away loved ones permanently, the constant feeling of danger.

My latest? My love for the new show on AMC in the Mad Men time slot: The Walking Dead.

What I wanted to describe is the character Glenn who surprised me because…he was just like Chris! In these ways:

There was a time in my life where I would be at my computer talking to friends—ones that I never met, ones that I had met through community boards. I would do this all evening…all day on the weekend.

Slowly in the past 6 years, habits changed. I started doing “real stuff” during evenings and weekends. Then there comes a rare day where suddenly the day is open. I reminiscence about the long conversations I would have. The impulsive conference phone call. Granted, back then, many of us were in college—almost handcuffed to our rooms due to lack of money and “studying”.

And now I sit through my evenings—it is silent. I haven’t received an email for more than 10 hours. I spoke out to the empty audience—not once, not twice, more than thrice…out of habit through twitter, facebook and then here. There isn’t anybody responding, but I am ok with that. But I miss the many facets of personalities that I would encounter.

It’s not that I can’t im the many people I have on my list. There’s more than 10 online right now. But it will be short conversations—how are you? It may last 5 minutes, 10 minutes…lucky if it’s more. And then we would naturally retreat back to our former behavior. It’s because we have gotten older. But I miss you—that you—of the you of those times that we can’t return to easily.

This is a picture of all of us before the fall.

Before the group splintered. Before we discovered that some had become chasers. Some were survivors. Before we discovered ourselves.

This was also 5 hours before I dove into a manicured bush on Fulton and Masonic unnecessarily, gently scratching my skin on my right forearm and ruining landscaping for at least 4 months.

Hi little hot dog! I think I am going to see you very soon in less than 12 hours!

Although probably not this one…

But the point is…I am going to be attending the wedding of someone very special. Someone who perhaps caused me to start this blog and countless other pursuits!

He also recognized me too but didn’t express the flash of recognition.

As we walked passed each other on Valencia Street, I immediately recognized him. As he and two others in his group walked by, I stared and let my head turn as they walked by. Someone in the group said hi to me, probably to acknowledge my strange actions. But no reaction from the target.

The target that is…was a high school classmate. Not a friend by any means. Or enemy. It was someone who had made fun of me, but at the time, I took it for attention because unlike everyone else, I was “recognized”. I don’t remember exactly—but I think that he made a name for me or wrote something taunting/annoying/interesting in my yearbook. And perhaps that’s why I remembered him and the others that “recognized me”. At some point, I remember finding him on facebook, noting that he was on the other side of the country.

Then I thought nothing of him for years.

In high school, I could recite the entire class by name. Everyone to me was known by their first name and last name.

Yesterday as we passed each other…it was a strange moment. Why did I say anything? Did I have anything to say? Was there any reason to waste time? And I fretted about it for the following hour while at dinner.

On the way back, carrying my leftovers, I passed him again. Oddly enough, I was carrying leftovers and he was carrying leftovers. This time, I did not hesitate and said his name, “Tyler?” And he responded with my name. We made small chat for less than a minute. And then I was satisfied.