I went to a farewell dinner for my PhD advisor [finishing is seriously imperative at this point]. One of my colleagues hosted, and god I love these New Orleans summer nights and gorgeous gardens - everything grows here. If you accidentally kill something, you just throw something else in and it thrives. I rented a car for the weekend so I could show up as an adult instead of sweaty and on my bike, like I usually do. Someone's husband touched my hair and asked if people always touch my hair. He was a bit drunk, maybe we all were.

We were about 20, but by the end just a group of about eight, and it was the me I want to be, at 5, 15, 20 years from now. These interesting people, content with their lives. I loved it and I felt grief about BT not being there to see my rich life, and also I felt grief about leaving, as i always do. Probably this was the last of these evenings with these dear colleagues. Everyone disperses in the summer. But then I got home and saw that on facebook, a dear friend posted memories about us singing together way way back in the day, and another friend from 15 years ago wrote me a message saying she dreamed of me, and it was important because i needed to remember that we all just keep moving and it's all going to be fine.

12:00 a.m. - 2016-05-23