Tuesday, October 11, 2005


I've gotten to the point where I'm periodically realizing things that were ruined in the flood. It's not cool.

The other day, Dre called me to ask for help with sentence diagraming, which I'd taken a couple years ago in college. My first thought was that if I didn't know the answer, I could always go look in my textbook. Wrong. That was on my bookshelf. That realization made me remember all my old Journalism notes in a box, which I'd always keep for reference. Gone. Which made me remember about my "box of ideas," where I'd put notes for short stories or other pieces I always meant to go back to. Gone.

The weather in N.O. got a bit cooler the other day, cool enough for a light jacket at night. I wanted to grab my Dickies jacket, the one with all the cool pins on it that I got for free from our Miller High Life rep when I was doing the Leighties night at TwiRoPa. Nope. Gone. Which made me remember about the heavy jacket my mother bought for me years ago, which made me remember about the long leather trench coat given to me by a family friend. Gone, and gone.

I'd come to terms with losing all my comics and that kind of stuff. It's moments like this, though, that make things rough sometimes.
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