illegitimi non carborundum

Cristi would have been 30 years old today. I often wonder what she would be doing, where she would be living. Back in Boston? Married? In school?

I never know what to do with myself on this day (or the day she died). I feel indecisive and moody, and most attempts at celebration or ritual are never quite right. Though I suppose the one thing I do know is that I need to eat some kind of crazy dessert, preferably cake. (One year Cristi and a college buddy of hers ate an entire chocolate cake. An impressive feat for sure.) Maybe I'll also watch a movie, since we often did that on her birthday too.

I miss her every day, but her loss is particularly potent on these certain days.