expiration date

Such an odd little landmine, two days later: after requesting a new Thawte email certificate, I import it into my keychain to find Gregory’s certificate, the only other one I have, marked “expired”.

Yeah, you think?

I think we’ve hit the second stage of grief. An improvement, since I know what to do with my anger.

Distractions abound. I wrote some more on my new story, found another sidewalk stencil, bought Pilot G2 Minis in eight different colors, and am reading the “Lost” tie-in novel Bad Twin. Tomorrow night is the SFlickr gathering, and those always cheer me up. Everyone is being so gentle. The MSG listens patiently. Inkbot brought me flowers and scones. Family and friends and coworkers express concern. Even Zen is cuddlier.

I don’t want to write about this anymore, and I don’t want to write about anything else. It seems most fitting to move on, to honor his life by living mine to the fullest, but I don’t want to dodge my emotions now only to have them resurface later, uglier and brawnier, ready to bully. Did that four years ago, and see where it got me.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.