I went to a party this past weekend.
It was a clash of connections, it was where convergence lived.
As I have said for at least a dozen years, everyone I know knows everyone I know. So, of course, it was a co-worker’s birthday party that featured a large contingent of my friends from Chimborazo. There apparently was a point when several disparate people at that party were in my living room in Church Hill.
The party was among things I see as a resurgence of my social life in Richmond. When we first got here, I was commuting from Charlottesville, so I didn’t really do anything. On top of that, a lot of people I hung out with became married and boring or with child(ren) and isolated or moved away. Some of those who were left assumed I was either married and boring.
I guess not really doing anything during my Charlottesville commute did little to dissuade anyone from thinking.
The friendships and weird connections I made during my first stint in RVA made this city my favorite city. Yes, I do love a night home or a night out as a couple, but you all made living here rich and fulfilling. You still do.
Otherwise, I can’t pivot from speaking to an editor to an editor’s friend who knows my friends to another person I had no idea knew everyone else.
Keep my Dickensian life alive.
Minus all the orphans and bleak living conditions.