magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

bean is not actually from antarctica. his heart is covered in paisleys.

he makes tiny little pictures and sometimes writes about his life.

Jump into a crisis. Fix. Repeat.

29 November 2004

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By the time I finally managed to drag myself out of bed ('It's easier when you absolutely have to be there.') the coffee shop was full and they were playing Spiderman II on the projection screen. A scene at the Hayden Planetarium. Five minutes later, on the subway, I open McSweeney's 12 to the place where I had left off on the train back into the city yesterday afternoon. A story called 'After the Disaster' which opens at the Natural History Museum.


At PDG, I did what I do best. Jump into a crisis, entirely outside of my own making, and fix it. Worked through lunch though.

And Inwood again. Ostensibly to see the two apartments in the Park Terrace area. One was still being painted, and the super of the other building couldn't be reached. I did look at a few other places, one just at the edge of Park Terrace, in a huge palazzo style apartment building. But, over the last handful of days, telling people about the apartment in the 'cute little house', I realized just how much I liked it. And that I wasn't going to find anywhere as unique.

So I put a deposit down. Assuming that everything goes okay with my credit check and all of that, I have a new place to live.

On the train back to midtown I wondered if maybe I should feel more excited about all of this. I mean, that's the 'correct' response isn't it? Of course it's not as if I've been excitable about anything recently. And skipping lunch certainly didn't help.

Back in the office, another crisis. Another fix. And next thing I know it's 830.

Take-out from VP2, and on the train on the way home to eat it my head is pounding in a vaguely dehydrated, low blood sugar sort of way. A girl in the Sixth Ave L station was playing guitar and singing depressing folk-rock songs. But home, the food improved my spirits. And rationally, I know that this is a kick-ass apartment, and as soon as the sun starts coming back to us and I get over this seasonal affective junk I'm going to love it there.