Classmate

I saw my wormies today. They seem to be doing well, and I bought more so as to keep up with my slightly rising organic output.

There seems to be a consensus that worms are gross which I agree with. Why are they gross, exactly? I guess it's the slimy, segmented bodies.


I wonder how fast objects scale back according to depth perception and eyesight capability?

In an ironic story, Amazon pulled copies of 1984 and Animal Farm off the Kindle, sadly proving again the superiority of regular books. While I love my books, I love forests more. Do something people!

Today my Uncle's brother's daughter came to visit along with my parents after moving across the country away from every single support network she knows. We had fun, as I took them to Downtown La Jolla and Torrey Pines. I kind of wish I could have gotten more work done, but we had fun. I like her.
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When I was in high school one of my classmates a year ahead of me was named Sam Loeb. All I remember was that he had a shaved head, an infectious smile, and knew a lot about comics. He was really charismatic, everyone liked him, and he made people like me feel stupid for complaining all the time, though I'm sure that he never meant to do. I barely knew him, and most of what I knew consisted of knowing that this was a wonderful person to know. Everyone knew he had cancer, but it was never what defined him.

I remember the day that he died. I don't remember how I found out, but I do remember nutrition and lunch passing by as the HGMers wandered around like ghosts. We were all in shock. I remember those close to him throwing their arms around each other and breaking down into tears. It didn't matter that I barely knew him. I wish I had, because someone else would be around to keep more of his memory alive. His life was so short, but he should not be forgotten.

I recall all of this because of something as simple as a status one of my friends posted. He joked towards the end, trying to make light of it all. He wrote a comic in one of Joss Whedon's books.

Whoever reads this can also remember Sam Loeb. Perhaps it's a hollow fantasy, but if you read this you know as much as I do about Sam. Please carry around his memory with care, because that's all any of us have left. I may not have known him, but I miss him.