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I don't stop by her house. I go straight home. I tap on my ham-
ster's cage. Iwater my cactuses. Ikick off my shoes and go to bed with
my clothes on.

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My father could be dead, at least in theory. There's no way of
telling for certain without going on some sort of exhaustive search of the
Baltimore area, but even then Imight not be all that motivated to find
out what has happened to him. As far as Ican guess, he is overweight
and balding. Perhaps he is still far-sighted. Idoubt he has stopped being
colorblind.

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When people die, you don't have to worry so much about if
they'll remember to call, or if you'll piss them off. People only say you
shouldn't speak ill of the dead because God knows what you'll say when
they're gone. Or maybe it just stirs up bad memories for the living.
Iguess it just annoys me that people have to pretend someone
was only ever Those Three Things once they die-
Father, Brother, Husband. Wife, Daughter, Friend. Writer,
Artist, Philosopher.

Or just one thing-A Great Loss.
Because sometimes, you need to lose something to know what it means.

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Idon't want my father to kill himself,

Or at least Idon't think Ido.
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The only "infinite jest" is that we all keep looking to other people for
some sense of where we fit, knowing that someday, they're going to leave
us.

116 I contrast