Thursday, September 09, 2004

talk amongst yourselves

Things that happened while I was gone:

Lindsey 'Lynn' Gleins, friend to Julie and her family, died in New York last week. Julie was hit pretty hard by this, as were her husband and kids... how the hell do you explain something like that to a child? Given my attitude towards death I am notoriously bad at condolences, but I can understand things like 'Julie is hurting' even though I am almost as powerless to change this as she is to change the fact of Lynn's death. The only thing I can say is that Julie is in my thoughts... I wish I could say 'the pain will go away' or 'this too shall pass', but it won't, not if she keeps her heart open (and I can't imagine her any other way). It will, however, become easier to bear. I still don't know whether or not this is a good thing.

Tina made a valiant effort to relinquish her Burning Man Virgin status, but real life interceded. (I think she might have gotten to second base.) As a result, I didn't see her there, though as a sort of consolation prize I did get to enjoy a lovely salad made from the fresh greens she left at my old camp. The fallout from Tina's adventures is documented here, but the gist of it is that her travel partner went bugfuck and needed to vacate the premises shortly after they arrived. I saw a documentary a few years back about a guy who was training inner-city kids in NY to box... when they asked him what he thought of the new guys who were all bluster and bravado and full of talk about how they were going to rule the ring, he said "everyone has a theory until they get hit". Unfortunately Tina's friend had some theories that had not yet intersected reality, and when the hit came Tina got tumbled as well.

Apparently I have an Evil Twin. (Hi evil twin.) He's an Oregonian (check) computer nerd (check) named Michael (check) married to Anne-Marie (check) who is a nurse (check). He's got a chronic illness (check) and if I'm reading this post correctly he lives in a geodesic dome (I'm a Bucky Fuller freak, models of domes lying around the house and I just picked up a proof-sheet of the new Bucky Fuller commemorative stamps today) and has goats (don't even get me started on Anne-Marie and the fucking goats). This just goes to further reinforce my belief that there are only like twelve people and they are just all over the place, slight variations on a theme like good jazz.