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August 08, 2006



Hey Hugo,

Thank ye kindly for the link, however do note, it's Southern Discomfort.

While I am, as a matter of bizarre fact, named after the granddaughter of the founder of the Southern Comfort whiskey empire (she and my parents were friends back in their days at William and Mary), the dis in Discomfort here is pertinent: insofar as I have a specific ambivalence about being in the South; and, of course, insofar as "whiskey" itself was rather ruined for me, on account of a certain homicidal ex-girlfriend (as in: had an actual record for attempted murder).

Plus, there's the wonderful book titled Southern Discomfort by Virginia's own Rita Mae Brown. It was the first novel of hers I ever read. (A major eye-opener for the child of 14 I then was.)

Hope that clears things up :-)

Take care - V.


Whoops. My drinking days come back to haunt me again.


My goodness, but you are quick!



Thank you for sharing about your grieving. I wish I could say there's a time you stop thinking, "Oh I should share that with . . . " but I don't know if there is. I was very close to my grandmother who died December, 2005. For weeks after her death, I'd find myself driving out of my way to go visit her in the nursing home. I'd slow down at the coffee shop to get her a cup. I don't think we ever stop missing our loved ones after they die - I think we learn to live with the empty place in our lives.

Maybe I'm being maudlin - it's not unprecedented.


Hugo, I'm such an idiot, I haven't told you yet how sorry I am about your father!! My greatest fear in the whole world is losing my parents. My parents are young still, dad is turning 50 next year... I read your dad's obituary, and it's beautiful. If you learned how to be a teacher from him, then I as one of your students feel I should be grateful to him.


Great album! Thanks for sharing that.


I lost my father as well some years ago. Even now, I sometimes reach the phone to call him before I realize what I'm doing. And every once in a while, when a stranger calls, it actually sounds like him, if only for a brief moment. That's when I catch my breath. Then I realize immediately it's someone else.

My heart goes out to you. Hang in there, Hugo.


Hugo, I've also been remiss in not offering condolences about losing your father, not to mention your chincilla! Yeah, after a close friend died three years ago I had a lot of those, "I should talk to him about..." moments. I did find they diminished over time though, and I don't remember when the last one was.

With pets, I found that they kept visiting me in dreams. After a while it got so common to dream about my cat that his appearance actually caused me to realize I was dreaming, even while I was still asleep. Even so, I kind of enjoyed it, as it was so vivid -- I could feel his fur and everything. May Mathilda visit your dreams!

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