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Love is the Plan, the Plan is Tess
Nov. 5th, 2005 09:32 amToday, my sister is moving out of the house. On the one hand, I'll now be able to sing at the top of my lungs in the middle of the night, and, conversely, will never again need to trek over and ask her to turn her music down when I'm trying to sleep; on the other... Well, we also won't be able to have conversations about music anymore. Tess and I move in the same space without a great deal of interaction, but I've spent perhaps more time in her presence than in that of any other person - certainly she's the only person I've consistantly lived with for the past two decades - and her absence will probably be strange for me in ways that I can't even yet see.
Tess' vacancy will give us somewhere to put J. when he comes up next Friday. (Well, really more 'over' than 'up'.) He will attend my birthday party, and hang around Vancouver for a week (I have no idea if I can take him to class), and then he and I and Andrew (assuming the latter can ever find his passport) will take the train down to see Rachel, because Rachel is getting married. My closest friend is the first of my intimate correspondents, or indeed my general acquaintances, or anyone but two of my least familiar cousins*, that this has happened to while I've known them, so it's even stranger than it might be; I'm happy that she is so happy, and that she has such cause to be, but I also miss her, and her attention. Change is frightening.
(* Not to one another.)
(P.S. My birthday party is probably going to be awesome.)
Another of my friends has just been hit by a car. She's not very hurt, considering that she was hit by a car (though neither is she totally undamaged), but I'm not sure, especially given the nature of that particular relationship, how to express or to satisfy the muted sad horror that I feel anyway. Maybe, taking a page from some of my other friends back when I was punched in the face, I'll take her over some dessert.
Meanwhile, I should help with the moving effort, and then go get my hair trimmed, and work on the game I'm to DM tomorrow, and start writing an essay.
Tess' vacancy will give us somewhere to put J. when he comes up next Friday. (Well, really more 'over' than 'up'.) He will attend my birthday party, and hang around Vancouver for a week (I have no idea if I can take him to class), and then he and I and Andrew (assuming the latter can ever find his passport) will take the train down to see Rachel, because Rachel is getting married. My closest friend is the first of my intimate correspondents, or indeed my general acquaintances, or anyone but two of my least familiar cousins*, that this has happened to while I've known them, so it's even stranger than it might be; I'm happy that she is so happy, and that she has such cause to be, but I also miss her, and her attention. Change is frightening.
(* Not to one another.)
(P.S. My birthday party is probably going to be awesome.)
Another of my friends has just been hit by a car. She's not very hurt, considering that she was hit by a car (though neither is she totally undamaged), but I'm not sure, especially given the nature of that particular relationship, how to express or to satisfy the muted sad horror that I feel anyway. Maybe, taking a page from some of my other friends back when I was punched in the face, I'll take her over some dessert.
Meanwhile, I should help with the moving effort, and then go get my hair trimmed, and work on the game I'm to DM tomorrow, and start writing an essay.
