magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Despite a generally functional as well as pretty design aesthetic, certain features of Sony Ericsson mobile phones don't quite live up. One of those feature is the connector for the charger cable. After a year or so it begins to wear out and will occasionally do nothing towards actually charging the phone's battery, even if plugged in all night. Sometimes I think that there must be a similar malfunction in my own overnight charging capabilities.

Last night, neither my phone nor I got a full charge. It took me two hours from the time my alarm was set (7.21) until I got up (9.24). And still I felt warn down.

As it happens, I should have just stayed in bed. The project that I was supposed to begin work on last Thursday or Friday, and then first thing today, has still not made it through the approval process to the point where it's ready for me to being the actually design work.

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Of course I was okay with cutting out of work early today because Garth is still in town, and he and Julia were meeting in Union Square to get a late lunch / early dinner. I met up with them, and we headed over Life Cafe, and through detouring by Julia's bank, we ran into Edie (whose move to NYC, if you recall, was Garth's reason for driving out and being here at all).

The four of us were seated at Life and then ignored for twenty minutes. 'I've sat in this exact booth before, with Chris, Cyéle, and Sarah. I sat in this exact seat.'

'You've sat everywhere,' Julia replied. 'All the waiters already know what you want. No green peppers.'

Our waitress, when she finally found her way to us, didn't know what I wanted. Probably even after taking our order. 'I know what you ordered the vegan soup,' to Edie, 'and something else. But I can't read my handwriting and don't know what it was.'

'A biscuit,' Edie said and made the shape of a biscuit with her hands.

Eventually our ketchup disappeared. But that was really of no concern to me. Good riddance to the pulp of that evil fruit, I say.

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After eating, Julia left for kick-boxing, and Edie to make strawberry shortcake. Garth and I wandered around the Village in search of a coffee shop that wasn't Starbucks. We found one, wandered and talked for a while longer, and as he headed out to Brooklyn to get his van and load it up with the furniture of someone who he is transporting back out to Illinois tomorrow, I got a message from Bret saying he was in town, that he should have called earlier, but his plans changed, and what was I up to?

The battery in phone was dying, for one. I called him back but got his voicemail, so I want back to office to play pool and wait to hear from him. I called Chris, who said that Garth wanted to go out for a couple of drinks after loading up the furniture, since tonight's his last night in the city.

When Bret did call it was from the George Washington Bridge. 'I made a wrong turn, I think I'm headed to New Jersey.'

'Well, if you're on the bridge, you're actually pretty close to my house. SO maybe I should take the train home. You can find parking up there, I can charge my phone, and then we can come back downtown on the subway.' I got home just as he found a parking space. 'So you're about four blocks from my house.'

'I know, I passed it once or twice as I was driving around looking for a space.'

We hung out and had a beer, waiting to hear from the boys. Chris calls to say that Garth's not going to want to leave Brooklyn, so if I want to hang out I'm going to have to make my way all the way out to Williamsburg. 'About how long will it take you to get to Union Pool?'

'If the trains are bing cooperative, about an hour.'

As it happens, the trains were not being cooperative. 'Late nights' the C stops running and the A runs local to make up for it. Late night generally starts around 11.30 or midnight, but it seems to be a sliding designation. Tonight it was apparently already late night by 9.45.

When we got to Union Pool, Chris was standing outside. Evy and two friends were at a table inside, but Chris didn't realize they were there. Garth was in his van, lost somewhere between lower Manhattan and Northside Williamsburg, but eventually found his way.

I had had a beer with dinner, another at home, and five at Union Pool. I kicked Garth in the shin, he thought it was Chris. I wasn't as delirious as the girl Sarah, an interior architecture student at Pratt who hadn't slept in 40 hours and was downing vodka tonics (I do know what that's like), but I was definitely a little punchy and impulsive. As we were leaving, Evy said something like, 'You don't have to be mad.' Which didn't make a whole lot of sense.

Bret and I got off the L at Union Square, called Amanda who had an overnight block of time in the NYU film studios, and got another drink at Reservoir. Then home.