I'm just really sad he's gone. I can't believe he's gone. And that I'll never ever see him again. Karol came over to stay. I don't really feel like being alone which is strange for me because when I'm sad, I usually want to be alone. It felt spooky sleeping last night. Like there was a presence in the room. I can almost feel him here stroking my hair, saying it's ok.
I prefer to think of it as an accident, like his step-mom described it. That the disorder caused his misjudgement and hence the accident. It's hard to imagine he pre-meditated any of this- that he was so sad with life he wanted to end it. I guess I feel absolved that it was an accident, because if he was really that sad, I was a horrible friend for not realizing it- for not helping. Maybe I'm just in denial. I was too self-absorbed to notice that my good friend was in trouble.
He was so excited about China, I didn't voice my reservations. I should have said something- that I didn't think he should travel with a bunch of strangers. Should have could have. I can't believe he's gone.
I thought about two things last night- the funny way he wrinkles his nose, squints and nods his head as he laughs. That made me happy.
And I couldn't stop thinking and replaying in my head this body falling from a building- what he must have thought of, when he realized he was falling- was it fear? relief? a sense of awakening? They said he died instantly. They didn't say if it hurt or not. If he was afraid or needed a hand, or if God was there.
I just want to hold him and tell him I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I didn't tell him how much I love him and how much he means to me.

Dearest Tim,
I just found out this morning dear friend. I just found out. Will you forgive me? For not knowing? Terry called this morning and told me. I just couldn’t believe it.

I was so angry at you, walking to work. And then I was angry at myself for not being a better friend, for being angry at you. I couldn’t fathom why, or how you could. You had so many plans for yourself. I was going to join you for the GMAT. Did I tell you that I might apply to Rand for 2005? We could have studied together. I was sick to my stomach. I was mad at you because my first thoughts were that you went off your meds or you deliberately went to Shanghai to do this.

I was in a frantic state before I called Debbie. She told me the news. She told me how you tried to contact your doctor three days before it happened. How you could not sleep in the midst of all this craziness. How you tried to contact your prof at Qinghua and he didn’t quite understand, or how the Chinese hospital simply sent you home with a glass of water when you tried to tell them about your manic state. I know you tried sweetie, and will you forgive me for not being there at all? For being too tired to send you off at the airport?

You nursed me the last time I saw you. When I threw up all over Haight Street remember? And you took me home and put me to bed. Thank you. I should have been taking care of you, not the other way around. Everyone asked that night, if we had something going, if we were a couple, because I held on to you so tightly, and you wouldn’t leave my side while I was trash talking and in my drunken stupor.

I remember that whole conversation we had in that Chinese restaurant near my house- when you asked if I’d ever thought about kissing you, about us becoming a couple. I couldn’t risk it, I told you. And I don’t know if you understood it then. I couldn’t risk us not being as close as we are. Sex warps everything- especially friendships. I wanted to say, I couldn’t risk us being angry at each other, risk our beautiful friendship, risk our loving relationship.

I forgot to tell you I love you. We were wonderful together- we understood each other. We comprehended each other’s pain, each other’s joy. I could tell you everything I couldn’t tell others. I always had so much to tell you and you always listened. You were always there.

My heart aches. I wish I’d been there. I wish I could reverse it all. I wish all this didn’t happen. I wish I didn’t forget to tell you that I love you, and how much of an honor it’s been to have been your friend, to be considered good enough for your love.

Love and kisses,
Teresa

wedding blues

it costs at least 20Gs to get married these days- and that's the minimum to have a decent party for about 150 people to party, get drunk, say i do and catch the f'in bouquet. i just don't get it. 20Gs is half the down payment for an apartment here for goodness sake.
if the 20Gs will buy you peace of mind, i'd say, by all means, spend that money... hell, spend 50Gs... peace of mind is priceless. But as most brides will tell ya, planning a wedding is far from peace of mind. it's months and months of headache, drama and worrying.
i'm gonna be the maid of honor at my friend's wedding- and am reluctantly stepping into the job. it sucks, but she's a good friend and i love her. so i'm gonna do it anyway. little did i know however, that she decided to also ask my ex-boyfriend, J, to be one of the groomsmen as well. Now, J and I are civil, but not on good terms. the last time we hung out, i wanted to wring his neck, and i'm sure he wanted to do the same to me. i remembered the exact same feelings of annoyance, irritance, and fingernails dragging across the chalkboard type sensation during our last weeks together as a couple. that breakup was a relief. and now, in a month, we're gonna be "partners" at this wedding. I'm just about ready to kill someone. I suppose I'll just have to take a whole lot of anxiety medication to get through this whole ordeal.
last nite, J gloated and said to me, even your friends are more comfortable with me than you are. I snorted, and he replied, it's the truth- i only speak the truth.
ok honey, you and jesus. i'm sure that makes you f'in happy about yourself.
so, i'm making the mental calculations right now. 20Gs and above to make you and your friends unhappy, or 20Gs and elope and get a fab honeymoon. not a very difficult choice issit? if you're reading this, and you're a bride to be... please consider elopement.

refrigerator sale- beers: 50cents

if there's one thing i don't buy or eat regularly, it's junk food. i just don't seem to have that urge and the only time i ever do it, is when i'm at a party or when i'm hosting a party.

had a small get together on sunday to watch England vs France. the English play like they always do. great start but lousy finish. too cocky to hustle, to proud to realize that 1-0 is nothing especially when you're playing against France. serves them right that zidane scored in the 90th minute and in injury time. i could see the draw coming, but the last goal was pure mistake on the part of the english goalkeeper, cute as he is.

anyway, the point is, my damn refrigerator is now filled with so much junk food, and not to mention, about 40 bottles of beer, it makes me sick just looking at it. i'm wondering if i could hold like a refrigerator garage sale. 10cents for all the cookies, chips and salsa. and maybe 50cents per bottle of beer to wash it down.

if the eurocup games weren't during the day, i'd totally have y'all at my place and you can finish up all that beer for free.

I'm restless already. Having graduated no more than two weeks, I'm already dreaming of a doctoral dissertation- one that I can easily do here at USF, which would serve absolutely no career purpose other than to keep me from being restless and to put my brain to some use (other than trying to guess who the murderer is on Law and Order). Previously, my dissertation ideas were, well you could say, less than a good fit for the School of Education. But I think this new one pulls directly from it. I'm even pulling out the old textbooks from previous courses in the PhD because I think they're relevant. Gracious!
There's a part of me though that feels as though I should get a useful degree- or at least put the economics degree to use. I am applying for that world bank job and we shall see what comes out of it. I am still doing quantitative research for my department. Or get a professional degree like law or clinical psych. Except I find myself returning to academe. I like thinking about frivolous topics like equality, rational choice, subjectivity, phenomenology. There's just so much to learn you know?

am most unhappy about the raise this year. very very unhappy. including only 1% market inflation is downright uncompetitive and unrealistic. and the measly performance raise? i'm sorry, but i think my productivity more than doubles the performance raise.

i'm getting the resume together for that world bank job

forget this.

the coffeemaker

Last night, with no help at all, I managed to program my coffeemaker to grind beans and make coffee at 6:30am this morning. It turned out fabulous. My alarm goes of at 6:15am, I laze in bed and in 15 minutes the grinder comes on. That makes it rather hard to sleep or snooze listening to the machine go "whhhrrrrrr". Got out of bed and into workout clothes, brushed my teeth, washed my face, selected my work clothes for the day and then off to the kitchen to grab my ready made coffee. Fabulous. I am truly living yuppie- which I have decided recently, isn't entirely uncool anymore. Those yuppie gadgets, like a Krups coffeemaker, certainly make the lifestyle most enticing.