In memory of

The incredible, in the truest sense of the word, knowledge that in the year 2000 I would be THIRTY-TWO--so old. 

TWGH throwing pebbles at my bedroom window when I was about 16 or 17 so that I could sneak outside to sit on the porch swing with him.

Imagining what it would be like to drive around town with kids in the backseat of the car.

Pre-nursing boobs.

The summer of 1985 when I thought I was immortal...and acted accordingly...yikes.

The only time I ever cheated on a quiz in my whole entire life and the teacher totally knew and made sure I knew she knew even though she couldn't prove it.

Really not wanting to climb up a very tall tree, walk across a double wire, and hurtle down a very, very long zip line but knowing that I was in the midst of a defining moment and sucking it up and doing it anyway.  I hated it.

The absolutely most breath stealing heart stopping freezing cold water in a pool at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. 

Dexter.  Dog of my life.

Three days holed up in my brother's apartment in Philadelphia in the late 90's eating macaroni and cheese, drinking beer, and watching So I Married An Axe Murderer while we tried to figure out what the hell to do next.

Driving through a thunderstorm in South Dakota that made the radio sizzle and the hair on my arms stand up.

Driving to Florida for Spring break when I was in elementary school, lying in the way back of the Datsun wagon with my brother, laughing our heads off at upside reflections of the world outside.

Pulling off I-90 in Missoula, Montana, at the Orange Street exit in 1995 and realizing that I could only ever imagine myself married to TWGH.  And then writing him a letter telling him.  And then him writing me back for the first time ever in his life to remind me that I have the world's shittiest timing.   And he's only rubbed my face in it two or three times since then.

Thanksgiving on Cape Cod. 

Swimming in the murky brown Chesapeake Bay at Camp Tockwogh.  And not being grossed out by it.  And currently being irritated that the spoiled brats who go there now have a swimming pool. 

Telling my parents I was going to look at Emory with a friend's family and going, instead, to Maryland to see the Dead with two other friends and three older boys.  And running into my uncle at one of the shows.  And making a deal not to tell my dad that we'd seen each other.  Heh heh.

Seeing the Beach Boys on the 4th of July at the Mann and the Police at JFK.   

Thinking life was so hard and complicated...and then realizing later that I hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of hard and complicated...and then realizing later that there isn't really anything too hard or complicated about it.