Hey, look everybody! I'm finally updating this thing again!

There has been a lot of Stuff going on at Chez Hobbit; so much so that I hardly know where to begin. I'm just going to pick a spot and go.

My Dear Grad Student, D., made the drive down for Spring Break with Maggie-dog, and it was good. A little awkward, in some ways; he was staying with his parents, which meant that I was as well. (I have a very small place and a housemate, plus two elderly cats and the ferret; adding another human and a large dog with knee problems who isn't used to two flights of stairs would have been utter insanity.) In fact, when he asked them if they would mind having me over for a night or two, they had already anticipated the possibility, so it turned into them seeing my bleary smiling face every morning all week. At some point, they were going to learn that I am not a Morning Person, so it was probably good to get it out of the way.

I'm not sure that D's parents were quite prepared for just how solid our relationship is, but again -- they were going to see it at some point, and if they have any reservations about my presence in his life, they had plenty of opportunity to bring it up. All in all, I don't have any worries on that front.

While D was here, he got word from CU. They want him. They really want him. Needless to say, the acceptance letter for their offer has been sent, along with the properly regretful "thank you for your interest in me" letters to the other schools. D is coming Home in August, and while the situation with Minnesota remains bittersweet, I think that things are going to be okay in that respect as well. D has been homesick beyond the telling of it. Although that isn't the best reason for choice of a PhD program, they did make him a good enough offer to tip the scales, and he was really impressed with the way that the program has come together in the past couple of years. Next up: house-hunting.

Saying good-bye gets harder and harder every time we have to do it, and this time was no exception. The only bonus is that we now know that there is a finite number of times that it's going to happen again. May, for D's graduation, and probably a mid-summer trip.

Speaking of May, both D and the Housemate are trying to convince me to fly instead of drive; I'm still torn on the idea. It isn't just graduation; I'm also going to Florida on that same trip for my chosen sister's museum exhibit opening, and I'll want to spend some time with my mom and birth-sister as well. I haven't been convinced that flights, extra suitcase charges, and a rental car will be any less expensive than gas and motels; plus having my own car gives me an escape route if Mom and I should have a major disagreement over some of the things I'm going to discuss with her while I'm there. On the other hand, airport shuttles do make residential pick-ups, and flight reservations can be changed, if you're willing to pony up the cash. It just takes more time to do so than packing a car. Decisions, decisions.

This week in particular has been hard; I found out a week ago today that a friend went in for what was supposed to be a routine surgery and didn't come out. Gabriel's heart stopped while he was under, and the doctors couldn't resuscitate him.

People are still reeling from the news. A bunch of us spontaneously converged on the local hangout the night that word got out. Everyone, including me, kept looking at the front door of the Cafe, waiting for Gabriel to walk in ...even though we all knew that it wasn't going to happen.

I had more beer than food, and I wasn't the only one in that state, either. Maybe I was betraying my Irish roots by sticking to Newcastle, but the Cafe doesn't have Harp or Smithwick's on tap, and doesn't carry Beamish at all. I don't drink all that much, despite having the alcohol tolerance of Bacchus, and I lost count of the pints I was downing. I have this vision of the brewery staff at Newcastle solemnly hanging my photograph in the lobby.

I had to break the news to the Grad Student that same day. Before I started abusing my liver. I didn't want him to just stumble over it like a trip wire, and the news was all over our friends' assorted blogs. I still feel bad about adding to his already crappy day, but he was glad to hear it from me instead of someone -- or somewhere -- else. Gabriel was his friend as well, and I know that it hit D hard. He said "Gabe and Vanessa should have been sitting in the corner at our housewarming party, making snarky comments." And I feel doubly bad that I wasn't physically there with D, doing what I could to make things easier.

It still doesn't seem real.

I told a friend at the first gathering that, were I Jewish or particularly religious, I would say that the world is short by one of the tzadikim; being neither, I was still saying it. She replied that she is Jewish, and she agrees with me entirely.

Gabe's memorial was Friday at the Cafe; it was entirely appropriate, as he spent more time there than in his apartment. The organizers wanted it to be a celebration of his life rather than focusing on his loss, and I think that we managed for the most part. People got up to tell stories and reminisce. I didn't know if I was going to speak or not, but in the end, I did. I got the final word, so to speak, when Rachel handed me the microphone. I kept it short, commenting that Gabriel Wisdom was the most aptly named person that any of us are ever likely to meet, and summed it up with two lines from my favorite Dylan Thomas poem:

Just to bring the suckage full circle, tomorrow (okay, today, March 28th) is the 1 year anniversary of my Granddad's death. I can already tell that I'm either going to be wildly productive, or a complete basket case; it depends on how well I can manage to keep myself distracted. Granddad will never get to meet Daniel, nor see how happy I am with him. Daniel will never get to shake Granddad's hand, or tell him how much he loves me. It hurts almost as much as it did a year ago, knowing these things. While the part of me that still has faith that this world is not the end tells me that Granddad already knows and approves, we still won't get to see it, and that makes a difference.

I wish that I could end this on a cheerier note, but I'm just not in that state of mind right now. I'm really looking forward to D's call this evening.