RIP

Too much death today. Something about being called to be told of three deaths within five minutes... (Okay, one I'd heard of...)

I'm only going to write about one of them, songhawk, here. (One really isn't my story to tell, and another, who few of you know, anyway, wrote more gracefully of his own coming death than anyone could hope to.)

Jeanette and I were friends and classmates back in the Early Entrance Program at the UW when she was fourteen and I was thirteen. We were bound together by similar tastes in fiction, interest, and aesthetics, but eventually pushed apart to some degree in part through second hand interpersonal politics, and in part because of religion. (Back in the day, she once tried to get someone to exorcise me. Heh.) I've been following her journal for the last half year or so. It's a bad thing to remember someone overmuch by the teenager you once knew, and our contacts in the last decade have been brief. But I wish I'd had a chance to know the adult she'd become. I've been hesitating on the edge of contacting her through much of that period, not sure if such contact would be welcome. Well, this is what happens when one hesitates thussly, I guess. She was one of many people who I have known and retained some fondness for, but have not stayed in contact with. I think I need to think about that a bit.

Tonight I'll probably be meeting up in class with C, my other dear friend who was the third of our little group at EEP. I don't know if she'll have heard the news.

(Ironically, all three of us have had fairly severe problems related to lung infections over the years. I used to be hospitalized on average about once a year due to bronchitis or pneumonia crossing very badly with my asthma, and C has more scar tissue in her lungs than I. Makes me wonder if there was something going on with Gurthrie Annex 2... Or if it's just that bright bookish kids tend to asthmatic, and certainly in past times we didn't always take the best care...)

Rest in Peace, all of you.

(no subject)

Despite the great suckage that was today, I managed to make another big pot of beans with squash, tomatillos and peppers (not exactly a food item on it's own, but which can be quickly made into a number of food items). Cleaned the kitchen, mostly. Made contact with a number of friends.

And then made it to wushu (though apparently I did slightly strain my left hamstring -- not a big deal, but no splits for me until it heals) met up with the cutest almost five year old in the world and his dad, got Tracey signed up for wushu and got him a uniform (Sean won't be taking this quarter, but Lauren will). Then stopped by PCC for our meat order for the cat food, then by Parkplace Cinemas for tickets for RotK, except they didn't have them 'cause they aren't doing a midnight showing... and ended up buying a Laurie King book and heading out to the Woodinville 12. Which had tickets. So escapism will have its day, damn it.

I'm wondering if I should have taken it as a bad omen when the cat managed to knock my shrine to Tailltiu off the wall, and the shelf off the top part of the cabinet.

I'll get to bed way too late, but tomorrow is another day.