Adrienne

I found out last night that one of my exes died back in February. She was one of the rare exes that didn't completely hate me after the break up: Her main issue with me was that I wasn't black nor was I a white guy pretending to be black. Anyway, she was horribly misunderstood, had an attitude but heart at the same time. Beneath her Asian white trash paradox of a persona was an individual who was never afraid to speak her mind and stand up for what she believed.

I'd say I'd miss her, but I'd be lying. We hadn't talked much in the last year. I don't really feel anything other than knowing that she had the potential to do good, and given more time she may have succeeded. If there is an afterworld, she's probably sitting with Estelle Getty and Bea Arthur watching her favorite episodes of Golden Girls.

Note: Don't mistake the last paragraph for whimsy. I've been out of stock on that for years and the shipment of it sank in the ice roads north of Manitoba.

I'm not going to ask any of you to say a prayer for her, because you didn't know her and that would make me a hypocrite. I won't even end this with anything schmaltzy like "stay in touch with those you care about" or any other such bullshit that you could easily find on the inside of a Hallmark card.

Nobody say "Sorry" to me, because I don't really feel anything. I think maybe typing all of this was an effort to see if I would. I guess now I know.

Fin.