magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

dreamt that sam was at risd. for some reason he was majoring in illustration, but was having a hard time with it. he was working on some sort of drawing assignment that kept getting mangled (torn, coffee spills, etc) and he kept fixing. i saw him later and he had switched to typography, which was apparently the fine arts equivalent of graphic design.

in my own course-work, i was in an architecture studio with both mike and nick again. our critic gave us each a copy of a big, photocopied book, modified from one she used two years earlier, that outlined the things we were going to tackle over the course of the semester.

after studio nick and i were walking back towards the building that we were both living in across campus, which had a very ivy league sort of feel. we walked through a student center sort of building, and there were a number of kids reading the new mixed media. nick told them that he was the editor, which of course he wasn't. i picked up a copy to see if they published both of my new lighthouse strips.

when we got to the building we lived in we walked up a few flights of stairs and then were crossing a hall and i noticed that the elevator was on that floor. i stepped in but couldn't remember if i lived on the third or fourth floor. as the door was closing i asked nick if he wanted to take the elevator up, but he said that he had some other stuff he needed to get done first.

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got an email from molly today. she opened up a bit, which was nice. i never really had any idea what was going on in her head, and i kind of wish that i had made more of an effort to find out. i guess i still have the chance to do so, but it's not exactly the same, since she isn't here.

and of course i want to write back right away, but i've also been feeling really anti-social the last few days. i've sort of been hiding it from garth and chris, and i do tend to lighten up a bit when they're around, but not entirely. that's sort of what started me thinking about molly last night. i knew that there wasn't going to be anyone in studio that i really wanted to see. and yet i wished there was.

and yet, and i didn't really want to see or have to talk to anyone anyway. one of those ever present contradictions. like right at this very moment: chris.k came home and all of a sudden i find it hard to really be as sullen which is good, but also i sort of wish that he wasn't walking around in the other room or eating or talking to me or talking to himself or whatever it is he's doing.