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September 16, 2010
I find you at the main bar, sipping on watered down whisky or maybe coke Ė I am not sure can tell the difference either. You turn to me as I come up behind you, glassy eyed and slouched. Your drink almost slips off the edge of the bar but manages to teeter precariously until I reach out and push it back.

Iím lost. Who are you? You and he are blending, faces mingling, and Iím thrown back two years. But youíre so smart and so put together and so wonderful. How can this be?

Baby, donít scare me like this.