This is a post about people. And slightly about bathrooms, but mostly about people.

Over the weekend (when John and Jojo were hogging my bathroom... and incidentally, guys, one of you left your shower gel. I'm tempted to blame Jono, because it's pretty purple and so is he, but I think it's probably John's. I'm holding it ransom, in any case. You get three guesses at what I want in return)...

Where was I?

Oh yes, over the weekend I got one of those random out-of-the-blue emails that kinda change your outlook, or at least your day. Because this one was from one of the old-skool. As in, the school that is so old, it's actually high school. Yes, you can flee through three states and change your name (though the change from "Diana" to "Dee" is, I suppose, rather minimal) but there's nowhere to hide from the power of Google.

Melodrama aside, it was actually quite delightful to hear from Phil again (this not being Phil-in-Canberra, who I swear I will email back one of these days, I promise). He helped bring the random to the dreary latter days of formal education, and the power of random is never diminished, not by time or distance. Even if he did go on to study science. What is with you people? And why do I have so many BS friends?

(I'm leaving that sentence just like that. Yep.)

Just another bathroom note to round it all out: I'm never letting a tall person use my shower ever again. Shower head adjustment is the sort of thing a girl should only have to do once in her life. I had it perfect, dammit.