(no subject)
Jun. 15th, 2005 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
molly_oI saw Mr. & Mrs. Smith last night, and as I told RoboMark, it's the perfect mix of sappiness and shooting. And the hotness, holy cow! [fans self] Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are both just ridiculously pretty.
But, on a more somber note, I just learned last night that my friend J has died. I wasn't close to her in a conventional way -- I've never been to her house or met her husband (though I always liked the way she talked about him) -- but I've seen her with some regularity, through one book group or the other, for the last five or six years, and I really *liked* her.
A month or so ago I wrote about my mother that she has "an admirable disregard for public opinion"; J had that, too. When it was important to her, she would do what was required to fit in (I'm thinking of her story about the time she spent a weekend with her husband at some kind of military professional education, and she drove down the weekend before to scope out what the wives wore, and then went out and bought those clothes), but most of the time, it just wasn't that important to her.
She read widely (and deeply), and combined with her unconventional approach, it meant you could rely on her to come up with a new perspective on whatever it was you were discussing with her. More than once I've been hit with a solution to a problem after J showed it to me from a different angle.
Every time I saw her, the discussion was full-tilt. I remember when J and another friend stayed after a book group meeting at my house, talking up a storm, until four in the morning. But it wasn't heat without light: She made people think about what they said, and (in a very nurturing way) she expected them to be able to defend their opinions.
Our book group met this past Saturday, but I skipped the meeting so I could attend my reunion. I intended to e-mail J before book group and let her know, but I never got around to it, so I asked a mutual friend to pass on the message. And then yesterday I was thinking I should e-mail her and apologize for not letting her know myself, but again I never got around to it. And now it's too late.
But, on a more somber note, I just learned last night that my friend J has died. I wasn't close to her in a conventional way -- I've never been to her house or met her husband (though I always liked the way she talked about him) -- but I've seen her with some regularity, through one book group or the other, for the last five or six years, and I really *liked* her.
A month or so ago I wrote about my mother that she has "an admirable disregard for public opinion"; J had that, too. When it was important to her, she would do what was required to fit in (I'm thinking of her story about the time she spent a weekend with her husband at some kind of military professional education, and she drove down the weekend before to scope out what the wives wore, and then went out and bought those clothes), but most of the time, it just wasn't that important to her.
She read widely (and deeply), and combined with her unconventional approach, it meant you could rely on her to come up with a new perspective on whatever it was you were discussing with her. More than once I've been hit with a solution to a problem after J showed it to me from a different angle.
Every time I saw her, the discussion was full-tilt. I remember when J and another friend stayed after a book group meeting at my house, talking up a storm, until four in the morning. But it wasn't heat without light: She made people think about what they said, and (in a very nurturing way) she expected them to be able to defend their opinions.
Our book group met this past Saturday, but I skipped the meeting so I could attend my reunion. I intended to e-mail J before book group and let her know, but I never got around to it, so I asked a mutual friend to pass on the message. And then yesterday I was thinking I should e-mail her and apologize for not letting her know myself, but again I never got around to it. And now it's too late.