magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

[i'm not going to talk about terrorism today. i've watched part of the tv coverage. if anything it's already been talked about too much. so back to my own self-indulgent story.]

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woke up slightly hung over. walking to the beb, i was replaying my preferences for the degree project seminar class that i heading for. there really wasn't any one of the four choices that i wanted any more than any of the others. my first choice was probably stef's last, and i think i picked it in part because of that. my second choice was certainly stef's first, which was, again, the reason i picked it. (notice that whole duality thing again?)

i arrived at the beb moments before stef and amy. long enough to survey the class postings. to see that i got my second choice. to see that i was in class with stef. but not long enough to run and hide. amy asked what section i was in. 'he's in anne's, with me,' stef said in a tone that seemed to imply it was obvious, had always been obvious.

'it was my second choice.' and unsaid, i'm trying to put some distance between us. of course part of me also secretly hopes that we end up in all our classes together. tomorrow i'll know about studio. friday i'll know about ibs.

and being in class with her, especially a seminar class, with only twelve or thirteen people, was hard. i wanted to be sitting next to her. i kept feeling that that's where i'm supposed to be. none of my small handful of architecture friends are in the class. she sat with keith, went for a coffee with him during the break. at least he's gay and i don't have to watch her flirt with him, but all the same there's still a feeling of 'that should be me'.

and again in concrete and masonry, although she sat a number of rows behind me, and i didn't see her at all until the end of class when everyone was leaving.

i got lunch. came home. felt empty and alone.

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the wind kept building over the course of the day, until at dusk i figured i had to go out for a walk in it. down by the bay, looking out over the water. i wonder how you can just turn off loving someone. sure, you can realize rationally that someone drives you crazy, will probably always drive you crazy, and maybe it would just be simpler to let them go from your life (not that i necessarily agree). but how can you just stop loving?

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went to see reign of fire at the patriot with chris and cybèle. i didn't like the movie much, but $1.75 is not bad for two hours of distraction. afterward cybèle wanted to stop by the one up for a drink. 'some of us have class tomorrow,' i said. 'some of us are still in school. and i really don't like the one up anyway. i guess i wouldn't mind going somewhere for one drink though.'

'have you ever been to the decatur?'

'i was there with you the other day.'

'oh yeah. did you like it?'

'yeah, it was nice.'

'or how about the red fez?' we were about two blocks from the red fez at this point. 'or the safari lounge?'

'the safari lounge doesn't rate much above the one up in my opinion, but the red fez is okay.' so we had a drink. whiskey sour for me, they both went for cheap beer. there's something about the ironic 'coolness' factor of drinking cheap beer that turns me off. that and the taste. i know there's the price factor, but you could drink a mid-rate beer at home for the price of a cheap beer in a bar. and if you're only having one anyway, why not spend the couple of bucks on something more palatable? or maybe it's just me living above my means again.