magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Brunch with Chris as per usual. 'Do you just want to go to Kate's? Or try Counter, since it's your birthday week and all?'

'I'm kind of hung over again. I'd hate to waste a fancy brunch on a hangover.'

And after visiting a few guitar stores in the Village, 'I had an epoxy mishap with my tuners,' Chris explained, we met up with Sonali and sat in Washington Square Park.

While sitting there, she got a phone call bearing the terrible news that a friend of hers in Nebraska, in his thirties, had died from an unexpected heart defect. And was at a loss as how to react. What to do. How to feel. And I didn't think that anything I could do was of any help. I have never really, in any meaningful way, dealt the reality of the death of friends. But, as pop-psychology cliche as it sounds, there really is no correct response to death. No correct way to mourn.

We ended up in a bar, not drinking enough to get drunk, but enough to distract those neurons in the brain a little bit. Then dinner. And a bad movie.

Chris went home to Brooklyn, Sonali spent the night at my place so as not to have to be alone. Sometimes just being there can be helpful.