My, but there has been a fair bit of it lately.

As a matter of fact, someone I actually knew has recently died. I was originaly going to say that this was a first, but then I remembered that my grandfather, along with a two or three others of my father's relatives have also died within the past decade, all of whom I'd met on previous visits to New York. Of course, this most recent death would hold the record for sheer exposure, as she was a family friend whom I'd seen many times over the years and my parents many more. They had, in fact, planned to visit them just before Halloween, but cancelled due to my mother coming down with something.

I'd heard my mother approach the room, crying terribly before she opened the door. My first thought was that something dreadful had happened to the cat. (What that says about myself or my mother, you're welcome to guess at.) When she told me, all I could do was to ask how. She told me she'd had a surgery and there were complications. My only response, of course, was "Fuck." She then departed.

It's times like these that I prefer to be alone. Other people's sadness is distinctly unpleasant to be around and even if there's some reason for me to be inclined towards comforting a person, I'm bad at it. There is nothing to say, after all. People die. Someone you talked to today will die. Someone you know very well. Relatives, friends, lovers, enemies. It happens.

I'll say for the record that if someone I actually care about were to die and you happen to become aware of it, none of you are under any obligation to offer condolensces of any sort. I don't believe I actually understand what they do for those who grieve and, even if I did, I don't need it. I know who the people are who care for me; it doesn't need to be repeated. If you must do something, send liquor.

I am sure that her son is not handling it nearly as well as I would. I believe he is of drinking age, but alas, I am low on funds.

All this and Strom Thurmond is a hundred goddamned years old. How annoying is that shit?