A friend of mine, Andrew Calvert, died yesterday. I’m actually not sure of his exact age, though I think he was 27 (edit- He was only 25). I’m not sure because I’ve never actually met him. I’ve only ever known him online.

As I understand it, he came from a family where the men usually ended up being cops, and Drew wanted to become so as well. In the meantime, though, he had joined the Coast Guard. He started off serving in the Bering Sea aboard the USS Morgenthau for a while, before being moved back to San Diego, and then on to Key West. He hated Key West, as much as some people would find it hard to believe. So we were all glad when he had finally made arrangements for a transfer to Seattle this coming October, because he definitely seemed happy about it.

And then this happened. It was more than a small shock.

This is the third death amongst my friends and acquaintances this year. Evan, the first, was a friend of Erin’s whom I’d met once or twice a decade ago. He was a nice guy in a bad situation but in truth I didn’t know him that well. Jenni, my friend from high school, I’d known rather well, but had barely talked to since graduating, though we did reconnect shortly before her death in April.

Drew, though, I talked to at least every week, if not daily. Which in retrospect seems odd, given that we never met. Nevertheless, this is a huge blow. In our sort of ad-hoc e-funeral for him among our mutual circle of friends, we found that everyone had already been having a bad day before the worst news came along, and have decided to declare August 23rd as Fuck This Day.

2011 sucks. And yet I’m starting to think I need to get used to this.