Occasionally I find things and I have no idea when I got them, what they mean, or why I kept them. Let's take, for example, bits of paper with people's names and phone numbers on them. Obviously I wanted to keep in tough with the person whose name is on the paper, but if I can;t remember the person, then obviously I did not successfully keep in touch with them.

For years there was a bit of paper knocking around whatever room I was living in with the name "Jennifer Gill" and a phone number. I have no memory of who that person was. I have tried calling the number, searching on the internet, but no luck. The number no longer belonged to her and there are far, far too many Jennifer Gills out there. I even once saw an off-off-B'way performance that had a Jennifer Gill in the cast, but it wasn't her.

Tonight I was cleaning out some boxes and I found two more curious bits of paper. The two names were Cheryl Korn and Branwynne Burns. The annoying thing is that these names do not sound completely unfamiliar to me. I suspect they were from a period of my life between my first and second attempts at college, when I was very active in the SCA, and the social circle I ran with in the SCA crossed over into the Downtown NYC scene in the pre-gentrification Lower East Side.

I did a little quick searching and found a few Cheryl Korns, but none that seemed to be anyone I should have known, and there seems to be a Branwynne Burns in the real estate field, but no pictures of her anywhere.

So there we go, another part of my past, detached and gone. I threw away the bits of paper, wrote this blog post, and moved on.