Megan Perry

It seems somewhat crass write a blog entry about this, but, frankly, I don't really know what else to do at this point. Megan Perry, a friend from college, died on Saturday. Most of you (my imaginary audience) who read this blog probably didn't know her. If you're curious about what happened, go here. For those of you who did know her and are finding out from this blog about her passing, I apologize that this is the mode in which the information is being delivered.

I will remember Megan Perry as one of the most upbeat, tireless, creative people I've ever met. Her curiosty knew no bounds. She was a kid at heart and her childlike enthusiasm and sense of wonder was balanced with a incredibly wide knowledge base of practical information--which she put to good use--and her penchant for using the word "fuck" a lot. While we drifted apart since her graduation, Megan (I may be the only person she was friends with who didn't call her Meg) had a pretty big affect on my college life. She was one of the first people I met at Vassar. During the drama BSC at freshman orientation, she stood out among the BPs as one of most friendly and quirky. We spent countless hours (literally, countless--it all became kind of a blur after that first week of 50... or 60?) in the Shiva together building and painting, skills I improved upon under her tuteladge. She's one of the major reasons I was so involved with theater at Vassar, making it interesting and fun. For me, it was never the same after she graudated. Together we dismantled door alarms and endangered our lives with the genie; we built a bar, a house, and put a prison together; we had late-night movie sessions--Tank Girl being the most memorable--with the rest of the theater crew; I watched and laughed hysterically as she, Erin, and Maria cringed in pain while snorting various possible cocaine-substitutes at late-night rehearsals for Hurlyburly; we unintentionally traded catchphrases--"with the woo" and "full of dumb"; we climbed the fire escape on Rocky; ate at the Acrop; hung out outside Cushing in the freezing cold during wee hours of the morning talking shit about student theater while she and Gabe chainsmoked; we ran at each other full tilt for big hugs. We had too many adventures and mishaps to recount or remember and that was all in a relatively short period.

While I remain stoic in the face of the ridiculousness (because that's what it is--ridiculous--and unjust) that is her death, I do miss her. To any of her family or other friends who might stumble upon this rambling, I realize what I've written is completely insufficient in summerizing the importance of Megan in this world--not just to us, but to her community, and to all of the other communities to which she's given her time and effort. I suppose it's some clue, though, that she affected me so greatly, and I wasn't nearly her closest friend; I can't even imagine the affect she's had on so many others. While many of our experiences and interactions with her may have been different, if there's one thing we probably all realize it's this--a great hug is gone.

Meg pictures:
http://ourmegphotos.blogspot.com/