Everybody Wang-Chung tonight...

[Note: This entry isn't particularly coherent, nor does it have a real point. I just wanted to remember one of the best guys I've ever known: David Chung]



I don't think you ever really get over a friend dying, at least not a super close friend. However,
its not the anniversary of their death that gets you or their birthday; its the random days when you reminisce over your childhood or you want to plan some exciting event and realize they were the first ones you would call. Well...that's what it seems like to me.

Every year, I try to remember your birthday, to memorialize it somehow. Every year, a week or so before the birthday, I plan out something to write, a picture to post up, and memories to bring up, and yet when the day comes (November 23rd), I forget. To be honest, Chung, it's hard even now for me to remember you're dead. When Koller and I are talking about the various happenings at Whitnall, I always expect you to be able to fill me in on all the dirty details of the extraordinary shenanigans that occur in small-town Wisconsin. Whenever I think of San Antonio, I remember the long drive (not too long buddy, don't worry) to the base, where I'd go pick you up, always worried they wouldn't let me in for whatever reason. I remember eating sushi in Austin at some cheap 5 dollar place. There was the foam party that was disgusting for oh so many reasons...and the random drunk calls you placed afterwards. Of course, there was the whole tattoo thing, which mind you, looked so painful that I still would never get one. To be honest, Chung, I'm amazingly grateful that you were stationed in San Antonio, that we were able to hang out so much. I'll never forget ya, buddy.