It was another one of 'those' days yesterday, a day of sadness and reflection, some regret, and ultimately, acceptance that it is what it is. I actually hate that. 'It is what it is' means giving in, something I don't do well. And this news came on the whipping tail of another tragedy, another friend lost, this one at his own hand. Last Tuesday a man I knew some 30 years ago took his life after years of addiction. I guess one might say it was inevitable, considering the track he'd found himself on. But that's not fair, really. He was brilliant in a non academic way. His Bull-Shit-O-Meter was set high -- or low, depending upon where the low tolerance level is on a Bull-Shit-O-Meter -- and he had a way of seeing clear through the lies one tells themselves into the soul of the problem and then stating them with a sink or swim attitude. Too bad he didn't see it in himself soon enough to do something about it -- or maybe he did and just didn't care anymore. The other tragic loss, the one from yesterday, was my friend (and I call her that because we had a connection, though we rarely spoke or saw one another) Sara Barillas (Phillips) of Kitchen Sink Collective aka Lobeliarama fame. Brilliant doesn't even begin to describe her intellect. And yet another with a Bull-Shit-O-Meter set at the lowest tolerance level. She was quick-minded and saw the world with such clarity. I envy people who don't let expectations cloud their judgements, and Sara was definitely one of those people. Plus, she was ethereal. I mean, it was difficult to believe, once you met her, that this diminutive, sweet-faced fairy doll of a woman could possess such a whip cord wit and intellect. The last time I met with her, we had lunch with our friends at a Pakistani buffet (which, as weird as it sounds, was actually pretty damned good), and even with the meds and the ever present exhaustion she experienced, I could still feel her curiosity-filled eyes taking it all in -- even caught her staring for a moment, figuring something out about me in my profile, I suppose, and then she smiled and looked away. There was a lot of love in that last meeting, and I felt, as I walked away from her house, that it would be the last time I'd see her, and I hated that feeling. I will miss her. So much.