magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Drifting off to sleep last night, Stef called. Her name and picture (at Jo's in Austin) popped up, and I rolled over and ignored the ringing. I didn't listen to the message until this morning.

'Hey it's Stef, ... obviously. You ... probably have a thing that pops us and says 'Stef'. ... Avoiding me. ... (I know.) ... Um, I'm calling because, you know, I'm living in Easthampton and I did bring all of your stuff with me like a nice friend. ... I want to talk to you about what you want to do with it and ... see how you are. So give me a call. ... Okay? Bye.'

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At brunch with Chris I told him my 'sad, sad story'. And about Stef's message. He told me about how he's not really sure if Becky dumped him, or is just putting him up on a shelf for a while.

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I think this house is definitely making me sick. Or maybe it's just the couch. Or most likely, it's all just psychosomatic.

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I hung at Er!n's for a few hours this evening. And it was really nice to see her, although towards the end of our conversation I started wondering exactly where the last ten years of my life have gone. I mean, I've got two college degrees, I've been in a multi-year relationship, lived in at least ten different places, including Rome, but basically I'm in the same place I was ten years ago. What do I have to show for all of that? Except for maybe a little bit more cynicism when it comes to things like believing in magic.