Keeping in touch

I will con­fess some­thing that is surely not a shock to any­one who knows me. I am ter­ri­ble at keep­ing in touch. I don’t do it. I had dear friends in col­lege, and had dear friends (well, one or two) in NYC when I was there. And yet, do I e-mail? No. Do I call? No. Do I respond, even, in any­thing resem­bling a timely man­ner? No. And does that make me a bad per­son? It sure as hell does.

So I promise to do bet­ter, I promise to write, I respond to a year’s worth of e-mail, or a year’s worth of wait­ing for an e-mail email with a long, tasty notye… because by then it had bet­ter be long and tasty. And I feel crappy doing it, and it never comes out right, and I’d rather just chat with these peo­ple each day, not throug…

I’d rather chat. Each day.

And so I do, with my friends from Iowa. I chat via instant mes­sen­ger. Not every day, but often enough that I still feel like I’m part of their lives, at least a lit­tle bit. It is funny, because we cer­tainly don’t tell each other that “today we went to the gro­cery store and there was this huge peach with a growth on it that, I swear, looked like my sec­ond grade teacher!” But we keep that con­nec­tion, that bond.

Hell, it is some­thing, right? And with voice chat com­ing to a phone near you, and video chat a real­ity now, well, it can only get better.

So. Kim. Yev. Nancy (if you still think I exist). Get on chat, and drop me a line. I have one of every­thing (AIM, Yahoo, yes, even an MSN account).

I’d love to chat.