Look Mummy, there's an airplane up in the sky

It is one of those days. I am a bit depressed and listening to Pink Floyd's The Wall is only exacerbating the issue. My twenty year high school reunion is next year so tons of my former classmates are online reminiscing about the glory days of high school and the friends we have lost over the years.

Glory days for some. For me it was a fragmented series of relationships and some level of alienation. Since it was a Department of Defense school, friendships would end because of moves and lengthy summers away from one another. New cliques would form leaving others in their wake. There were the folks that you might not be best friends with but you liked because they were there the entire time - you survived together and they were always in at least one of your classes.It was all very fluid. The last clique that I was a part of is the one I remember best. I remember an autumn party at my friend's Shane's house. Her mom was out of country on travel. We watched The Wall and hung out and drank beer and whatever cocktail was hip at the time. People were gathered around a fire outside. It felt like high school should feel - like it was a scene from a John Hughes movie and for once I was not Molly Ringwald. They were fun, good friends. Unfortunately I have lost track of too many of them and a couple of them have died over the years.

Death is one of those funny things. Usually not funny ha ha but funny odd. My dog Cixous (who is herself dying of the bone cancer) stops by the home of the no longer living dog Lucky hoping that Lucky will come out to play. Lucky was a spastic little poof ball that liked to run into traffic. Hence his name was not lived up to. Lucky would usually be out running around in the mornings when Cixous and I walked the block. Lucky had gotten brave enough to come up to Cixous (my rottie) and give her kisses. Cixous adored being adored. Now she sits and waits in his yard, not understanding why Lucky is not coming outside.

Today I learned that Jonathan "Slappy" Record overdosed on my watch. I feel like shit because I did not know. I've suspected, but we lost touch back in '95/96. I was finishing up my last semester at LSU and had just fallen head over heels for the man who is my husband. Since '92, Jon and I would talk every month or so. He was hanging out a lot, trying to figure out what his plans would be. He had started learning to fly so I was hopeful that something good would come of that.He would call late at night, usually high and want to chat. I remember when I stopped being there to take those calls. I was so wrapped up in my own life and happiness that talking to someone who couldn't get his shit together just became less fun. He stopped calling. I know why now.

I feel like Cixous. I'd been waiting to have him catch up with me again since I am way easy to find and he (now more obviously) isn't. Part of me suspected of course that he was not long for this world. Somehow having it confirmed, having it real and permanent just hurts. Death sucks.