magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Stopped by Digital Society after work to say hi to Dan (and see what his dinner plans were). He was headed to an end of the semester party for his Tagalog class, which I didn't want to crash, so I headed up to the Strand Bookstore to pick out something else to add to my reading pile. I've been motoring through Dave Eggers's You Shall Know Our Velocity. Read David Markson's Vanishing Point in a day and a half (although it deserves a second read through). Am about to jump back into Robert Musil's The Man Without Qualities. And am nearly done with Car Camping by Mark Sundeen, which Ellen lent me when I talked about driving cross-country when I was 20 with Sam who was only 10. Chose A.S. Byatt's Babel Tower and started it on the train ride home.

And all this reading makes me want to write. Of course there's nothing stopping me from doing so but my own inertia.

Marisa called back this evening. From the lab, which came up as 'Unknown' on my phone, but I've started answering those calls, as the bill collectors seem to have gotten what they want and/or given up, and so most of those calls are either from the office or from my mom. And this time, answering it worked out just fine, and we had a nice conversation.