Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Aug. 3rd, 2005 10:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
centerspireI've done nothing but cry for the last hour.
I had this big post about all the cool stuff that's happened over the last three weeks and how awesome things are.
I just got an email letting me know that my friend Dave died last night. Now, I can't say this was unexpected because he had a brain tumor and his health had been steadily declining in the last few weeks. But, I can say, that a lot of who I am now is because of Dave. He was my Technical Director for most of my college years. He taught me about 95% of what I know about theater. He's the reason I love Barenaked Ladies. He's the one who let me know it was okay to be myself (who else but Dave would wear a skirt on a mostly Republican, redneck campus? Answer, no one. And it didn't matter to him).
I drove to Cincinnati for his wedding. It's one of the only real road trips I've ever taken.
I believe I've only seen pure joy once. It was on the day Dave told me that Melissa was pregnant. "I gonna be a daddy," he whispered.
I tried to find a picture to share with y'all, but they're packed in my trunk and I'm trying to sort through them, but I can't right now.
He moved back to Ohio before Caroline was born to be close to his family. Which turned out to be good because he was diagnosed with the cancer just after she was born.
I really don't know why he moved to Texas, but I could not have been blessed more by that decision.
He visited here with his parents and Melissa and Caroline. It was awkward for me because I was in a job I hated that had nothing to do with theater and I was embarrassed. I wish I had just spent the time catching up and feeling like I was with a friend, instead of feeling defensive like I was being judged. It was the last time I saw him in person.
I wish I had written him more, laughed with him more, told him I loved him just once more.
Last month was his 40th birthday. I sent him a card.
If you've hung on with me this far, I'm impressed. Can you please just say something that will make me laugh? You can make fun of my unusually large calves and small ankles or tell me how you kicked someone in the balls last night (sorry, it's on the brain right now, I read something I was going to share with you, but.) Sorry, I just typed. I had to get it out.
I need a hug. And maybe my mom.
I had this big post about all the cool stuff that's happened over the last three weeks and how awesome things are.
I just got an email letting me know that my friend Dave died last night. Now, I can't say this was unexpected because he had a brain tumor and his health had been steadily declining in the last few weeks. But, I can say, that a lot of who I am now is because of Dave. He was my Technical Director for most of my college years. He taught me about 95% of what I know about theater. He's the reason I love Barenaked Ladies. He's the one who let me know it was okay to be myself (who else but Dave would wear a skirt on a mostly Republican, redneck campus? Answer, no one. And it didn't matter to him).
I drove to Cincinnati for his wedding. It's one of the only real road trips I've ever taken.
I believe I've only seen pure joy once. It was on the day Dave told me that Melissa was pregnant. "I gonna be a daddy," he whispered.
I tried to find a picture to share with y'all, but they're packed in my trunk and I'm trying to sort through them, but I can't right now.
He moved back to Ohio before Caroline was born to be close to his family. Which turned out to be good because he was diagnosed with the cancer just after she was born.
I really don't know why he moved to Texas, but I could not have been blessed more by that decision.
He visited here with his parents and Melissa and Caroline. It was awkward for me because I was in a job I hated that had nothing to do with theater and I was embarrassed. I wish I had just spent the time catching up and feeling like I was with a friend, instead of feeling defensive like I was being judged. It was the last time I saw him in person.
I wish I had written him more, laughed with him more, told him I loved him just once more.
Last month was his 40th birthday. I sent him a card.
If you've hung on with me this far, I'm impressed. Can you please just say something that will make me laugh? You can make fun of my unusually large calves and small ankles or tell me how you kicked someone in the balls last night (sorry, it's on the brain right now, I read something I was going to share with you, but.) Sorry, I just typed. I had to get it out.
I need a hug. And maybe my mom.
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-04 12:35 am (UTC)I'm so sad for you.
And now, the distraction:
I just walked over to the 7/11 to get a Big Gulp (I wouldn't, but I'm obsessed with the fact that you can now FLAVOR YOUR DIET COKE, omg, it's fantastic!) and there was a cop cruiser parked outside. I'm standing in line to pay behind these two toughass, shaven-headed LAPD cops and everyone in the entire store is doing that thing you do when cops are around and you're like "Shit, did I do anything illegal?"
And a very Hollywood, very fabulous hipster guy wearing a "vintage" NYPD t-shirt walks in, chatting on his cell, and the LAPD cops kind of look him up and down, and one barks in derisive laughter, and the hipster goes pale and says "Um, I've gotta go" and runs off to hide near the dairy products.
Er. It made *me* laugh. (Although not until later, when I wasn't standing next to the cops anymore.)
I hope you feel better. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2005-08-04 05:26 am (UTC)What is that with cops? It's like all of a sudden this cop's gonna know that you took a lipstick from Wal-Mart when you were 14?