I'm more than a little baffled today, and by more than one thing. But, until I figure out what to make of those things, I'll move on to something else.

Quiz night was good. Francis and I make a good team; we each know different things. And, as usual, I was in charge of the answer sheet until the audio round, when I handed the pen and paper to him. Sometimes, musicwise, he just seems to kow everything. We came in tenth, which I know sounds miserable, but is actual a pretty good place for a two person team. We tied with a team that had about a thousand people, which I assume must mean that Francis and I are each worth about five hundred people. That's pretty impressive, isn't it?

So, as I said, it was good. Or, rather, it started awkwardly, became good, and ended abruptly. Francis suddenly jumped up and ran away just as the quiz ended, which I guess I can't really hold against him, because I probably would have done the same thing, had I seen the opportunity first. We may be awful, but at least we're evenly matched. I think we'll go again next week, but maybe with a few other people that we can use as a buffer zone of sorts.

I left soon after he did, and had gotten about half a block away when I heard a familiar sounding voice call out, "Hello!" So I stopped and turned to look across the street at a smiling face that was not the least bit familiar. I said hello to him and he crossed the street toward me, asking if I had just been at quiz night. I said yes, and when he got to my side of the street we both continued walking in the direction I had been going in before. He said that he had seen me inside and had wanted to talk to me, but thought that I might have been on a date. I just said, "oh." I have a tendency to be somewhat resistant to strange boys, but I do have a weakness for the sort of boys who go to quiz night, and I had a couple of scotch and sodas in me. And there was something about his voice... And then, somehow, and I'm really not sure how, we were suddenly having a really natural and very nice conversation. We walked to the subway together, and it turned out that we were taking the same train in the same direction, so we got on together, and sat down, and kept talking, and it was all so easy. His stop came before mine, and when he got off he said, "I'll see you next week, I hope," and I smiled and said goodnight, and it was really such a nice thing. I don't know that I want to see him again, but it was nice seeing him last night, whoever he is. For all of that talking, we never exchanged names. I may be developing a habit.

And then I got home and realized why his voice seemed familiar, and who he sounded like, and that was a little sad. Because, to be honest, I sort of wish he had been that person instead. I really ought to learn how to wish for feasible things. Or maybe wishes should be for what seems impossible.