magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

it's stef's birthday.

i wrote her another long-hand letter with no real intention of sending it. i want to. i want to tell her my stories. but i want for her to want to know what's going on in my life. she's got to ask. to make the first move.

but of course i've been ignoring that somewhat. with the call to rubin. and by asking sam to send her our christmas ornament as a birthday gift. the valentine's day package that i'm not sure she ever got.

at work i was sent out in the snow (yes, it snowed today) to take measurements of the windows on the front of pier 94, 'the unconvention center'. the snow wasn't bad when i left, it hadn't really been snowing heavily at all, but when i popped up out of the subway at 50th street it seemed more like a blizzard. 'great,' i thought, 'but, if there is an appropriate day to contract pneumonia, it would be stef's birthday.'

but really, it felt as if i was out on a real architectural project, making a survey of the site. it felt comfortable. and on the way back to the office i stopped for a soy milk cappuccino. how i've missed you, my little coffee drink.

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and home and tv and chris calls about the mattress that his roommate left behind. 'how late are you planning on staying up?'

'i don't know. i'll probably get to bed sometime between one and two, as i have been doing.'

'are you willing to maybe stay up a little later to get that mattress? my new roommate is moving in this week and i need to get the room cleaned out.'

'yeah, i guess. give me a call when you're leaving work.' and then at his house a few hours later, 'do you mind if i smoke a cigarette before we do this?'

'sure. hard day at work?'

'it's stef's birthday.'

'so that's why there's a sad bean drawn on the calendar for today.'

we carried the mattress from his place to mine. went up to the roof and smoked another cigarette. sad bean indeed.