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12 January 2002 @ 01:18 am
Tonight was chrysoula and Kevin's goodbye party. I don't know if they decided to leave at midnight so as to make it possible or if it was just a clever idea by silkblade, but it was really nice to be able to see them before they went. It's been sad over the last year, watching the tide turn. Kit, Ted, and Shaun back to Alaska, ysabel, amaltheae, fenton back to Colorado, Susannah to the Netherlands, agrimony back to Connecticut, and there are more hanging on the verge.

The bay area was always a major gravity well for net friends, but was competing with Pittsburgh, Boston, Portland, Austin, and especially DC. The bay had the Netcom Underground Railroad, DC had Digex. But at the end of the century the job mass here got so ludicrous it sucked even those centers nearly dry. And then, as we all knew would happen -- you'll find no 'the business cycle is dead' fools among my friends -- it went boom. Or crunch, more precisely.

Anyway, people hung out and chatted and made a little memorial expedition to the gazebo where Kevin liked to run games, and then helped them carry the last of their stuff out to the amazingly overpacked SUV. Floor to roof packed; one only hopes they drive carefully enough that they don't need their rear view mirror! Confetti was thrown, hugs were exchanged, and they drove off. I hope it's a good adventure.
Current Mood: nostalgicnostalgic
12 January 2002 @ 05:32 am
Once again, The Grey Havens reduces me to tears. Not nice photogenic tears trickling down the cheek, but snotty gasping full out tears. I've probably read the chapter a dozen times in my life, and I still cry. And then I try to go to sleep, having stayed up way too late finishing the book, and I keep thinking about it, and occasionally falling into tears again. So instead of sleeping I'm journalling.

It's not just the parting that pains me, and it's not just the passing of the last of the magic of Middle Earth. It's the thought that Bilbo was not long for any world, and after he died, Frodo must have been terribly lonely. No matter how blessed the land was, how fair the elves, how changed Frodo was, he was still a hobbit, and he must have longed at times to hear hobbit voices, and hobbit stories, and sit with a pipe and discuss things less high and remote. And it was a long, long time before Sam came. Because he did see Sam again, dammit, he did. I won't have it any other way. {shakes her fist at the heavens}

Prembone used to argue on usenet that going to the Grey Havens was a mistake, that real healing was to be found in friends and family, in the Shire, and that the real sin was that his friends let him withdraw almost entirely from the Shire. I'm not sure I entirely agree, there was a supernatural element to his wounding that may indeed have only found healing in Valinor, but the loneliness haunts me.

Wargh. I'm such a sop, I just burst into tears again.