I figured I'd give everyone a break on the "look what I published today" bullshit and talk about something a little happier and upbeat. And by that I mean depressing emails.

So I got this yesterday:

Hey everyone,
I am sending this email to you in hopes you will send it to other Georgetown people you know so we can make this happen. My brother is sending this to classmates from 1997 who knew Charley and I'm going to be donating since I knew Charley too. ... This is really the perfect tribute to Charley since he was so involved in the theater and such a well-known person in those circles. Thanks for taking the time to pass this on to others.

[And this is the email she's forwarding, from her brother.]

Hey folks,

Katherine alerted me to a mailing that Georgetown sent out about the new performing arts center on campus. They are offering the opportunity to name a seat in the new theater, and she suggested that a seat in memory of Charley would be a good idea.

I totally agree. So. I am writing to you guys to see if you'd be interested in donating. To name a seat costs $2,500. I think if we get a good number of contributors, it won't be too hard to reach. The thing is, it all has to happen before the end of June. Ideally, I'd like to send everything in by mid-May, just to be on the safe side.

I knew Charley because, as my friend M points in her message, we both traveled the same social circles via Georgetown's Nomadic Theater troupe.

We weren't close friends - more like associates. He was a funny, interesting, intelligent, stand-up guy. But I think the fact that we weren't tight is what makes his passing so weird and hard to comprehend for me, even today. See, because I forget that he's dead - and then emails like this show up and remind me, and it's like I go through the same shock each time.

I'm like Guy Pearce in Memento.

I feel like had we been better friends, the shock and the memory of the shock would have sunk in by now. Instead, it's like an endless circle.

Compounded by the fact that I just got back in town. A lot's changed since graduation. And a couple of people I know from school are already gone, even though college feels like yesterday.

Seize the day, bitches. Seize the day.

Anyways, I sent a small check, courtesy of your federal tax dollars, really. Charley's death still resonates and hits me, and I fear (hope?) it will continue to do so indefinitely...even though we weren't that close.

************************

To end on a brighter note, Smashtar and I were just listening to the Senate take a vote just to friggin' recess on C-SPAN. They've got this Ben Stein impersonator tallying each vote with a droning "Aye" or "Nay."

Which led to this exchange:

Smash: "Do you think they have to take a vote to go to the bathroom?"

DC: "What about when they go home? 'Motion to have sex with wife...Aye.' "

Smash: " 'Nay.' "

DC: " 'Aye.' "

Smash: " 'Nay...' "

DC: " 'Motion for an ammendment to continue debate on the Floor...Aye.' "

Smash: " 'Nay.' "

OK, maybe you had to be there. And be a total C-SPAN dork, like we're all becoming here. But trust me, it was high comedy.

Alright Frosty, I'm getting back to work.