I forget if this coming Friday would have been Ritu's 35th or 36th birthday. Oh, she died when she was 34, so it would be her 36th.

Something of her might still be lurking around. I was in a movie theater this afternoon, and I randomly thought of her, how troubled she was, how compassion completely vacated me, what I should have done, and when I imagine her, what a beautiful face she had.

After the movie, I was wondering where to ride next to eventually end up at Amoeba, and Turk St. was right there, so I decided to head up Turk. It didn't occur to me until I crossed Divisidero that it looked like the street Ritu's apartment was on, and, lo, a couple blocks later, there it was, no question about it.

Maybe it was my unconscious, knowing that her birthday is coming up, but maybe she still hasn't fully moved on after more than a year and was "influencing" me.

She may be a ghost. She was such a tortured soul. She was passionate about social injustice, and I regularly saw her give dollar bills to the homeless, but then I also heard how she treated her boyfriend, and I saw how she treated the other assistants on her team. She even went off on me once. She knew I was pissed after that, I wonder how she felt. And then there is the lingering question of how it happened . . .

For the rest of this week, I will concentrate on her, send good vibes or whatever, imagine trying to have helped her instead of abandoning her. I can't justify myself by the context, I was defensive and callous, and if I don't have any friends now, character faults like that probably have a huge part of it.