funeral for a friend

marsha's memorial service is tomorrow. she died on monday, my mom told me last night, and didn't make it to jill's wedding afterall. her wishes were to be cremated and have her ashes spread in hawaii. you know she was a travel agent - my mom said - and here she is arranging one last trip for people. marsha's the 4th close friend or relative my mom's lost to colon cancer.

F went a funeral yesterday, for a schoolmate. 25 years old; cocaine overdose. when i talked with him last night he was at sea. - everyone was so blase. people were laughing and joking, and nobody was really crying. her dad is a triathlete and when i was making small talk with him i asked him how his training was going and he said "well, i haven't gotten out much THIS week" like this was a real inconvenience to him. i haven't been to very many american funerals, but when my cousins and uncle were killed everyone cried. everyone was sad, and the services went on for a long, long time. my aunt is still wearing black.

well fuck.

this is a fine start to a weekend.

i'm slated to race on sunday, a local triathlon that i've won the past couple years. so, no pressure or anything. the hamstring is still tweaky, though getting better, but i haven't done speedwork in almost a month. also, i don't know how it is possible to get fat and out-of-shape in 2 weeks, but i seem to have done so. moan moan moan. it's just a fucking hamstring. it's just a fucking friendship. it's just a fucking marriage. everything changes.