2002-05-27 ~ 7:10 a.m.

Rhiannon

The internet sucks sometimes.....

I already wrote this passage.

And here I am to write it again. It better fucking save this time.

I'm emotional. A lot of tears came out tonight. Mostly when I was writing this entry the first time. So this time, it probably won't seem as heartfelt, but it's important enough to me that I need to write it again.

To sum up, I'm drunk. Drunkeness cause emotions to come forth. During this particular drunkeness when I was actually feeling pretty good, the song "Rhiannon" came on.

This brought me into a bit of crumbly mess.

My second best friend in the 5th grade was named Rhiannon. (My first best friend lived across the street from me, but she went to private school.)I remember everyone staring at Rhi the first day of school because she didn't have much hair. She was a cancer patient. The cancer had gone. The baldness was residual from the chemo.

Rhiannon and I were close that year of school. We did everything together. Our fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Wright, used to award her class with "Scholar Dollars" if they got good grades or did something good, crap like that. At the time, I was a straight "A" student, so I always had a buttload of scholar dollars. So did Rhi.

At the end of every quarter, Mrs. Wright would have an auction of stuff that we could buy with our bad-ass bucks. One of the things was always to spend a night at her (Mrs. Wright's) house. It was too cool. Scary movies, free food, going out to buy us books or something academic like that. (To keep it real on the principal's terms.) So, the other person that was able to buy the night at Mrs. Wright's house always changed.... but it was definitely always Rhi and me. (ok, Rhi and *I*....but "Rhi and me" rhymes better.)

I moved here when I was 10.....or 11...... hell, I don't remember...and I lost touch. It was of the long, long ago in the before time of internet, and I was never good at writing letters. More precisely, I was good at writing letters, I just wasn't very good at SENDING them.

I visited again when I was 15. I don't remember if I was able to get in touch with her. My guess is I wasn't. And even if I did, my family (excluding my mom who wasn't there) is full of psychotic folk, and wouldn't let me visit any of my friends unless their parents were willing to drive an hour to nowhere to visit me for a few minutes.

So, internet days come, and I think "OH!! I know, highschoolalumni.com!! I can leave a message for Rhi there. She would most likely have gone to the school that I would have gone to had I gone to high school out there."

Great idea. So, I left a note asking for her or anyone that knew where she was.

I guess, fortunately, I didn't have to wait that long for a response.

A friend of Rhi's e-mailed me telling me, if I remember correctly, that the cancer came back during senior year and she passed away shortly after graduation.

That's a huge dose of reality.

I've had many close family members die. So death isn't what bothers me. In fact, I'm a firm believer of death being a celebration of life.

What fucking bothers me is that I lost touch with her. That is so fucking rude. She was one of my BEST friends. And she had to go and fucking die with the last memory of me being a short call while I was in town.

That fucking sucks.

I'm fucking crying.....again.

And how many fucking times do you hear "Rhiannon" on the radio?

Fuck, I've said "fuck" enough in this entry.

Leaving now..fuckin A.

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