I met Allison in 1993. She hired me to work at a sex magazine. She was tiny, with bright red hair. She spent all her time either applying lipstick or blotting it. She had a scooter. She was one of the darkest, funniest, most sardonic individuals I'd ever met. She loved Liz Phair and Tim Roth.

We stayed friends after we both moved to NY. She sent cards to the girls even though she hardly ever saw them, because in the last few years the depression that she fought her whole life was winning the war.

She took her life on Wednesday.

I hate that her own brain chemistry betrayed her. I hate that she didn't get to accomplish all the things she was so capable of. I hope she found the release from the pain. And I miss her.