magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

I dreamt about Stef again last night. Very realistically. None of that surreal dream stuff. It was now. Or the very near future. I'm not sure if she had moved to New York, or if I had found myself wherever it is that she is, but we were in an unavoidable proximity to one another. She wanted to be friendly. Maybe to be forgiven. I told her that I couldn't. That even after all this time it was still all too sharp and painful. That for whatever reason I had found her in my thoughts again recently. It was all too much.

I'm sure it comes from the reintegration of shared belongings back into my life. In the process of setting up my home office I really began in earnest to unpack the boxes I reclaimed last summer. In putting my portfolio together I revisited work that I had done when she and I were together. When she and I met. Fell in love. Fought. Broke up. Saw other people. Reconciled. She has been in my thoughts again recently. A little like a ghost, attached to these other things, an unavoidable presence felt.

---

No brunch today. Chris was cleaning his apartment and didn't want to leave until he had made real progress. I took the opportunity to take a stab at cleaning my own space, something I had been planning on doing this weekend anyway. But didn't get too terribly far.

Later on, called Chis again and suggested getting a drink in Brooklyn. We met up at Life 983. 'So when's the last time you were in Brooklyn?' Chris asked.

'New Year's I think.' Which, thinking back now, is not true. There was a party at Paolo, Reid, Ryan, and Steve's in January. But I don't get out to Brooklyn very often these days, and I'm not sure I'd been in the old 'hood since last summer.

And I hadn't been at Chris's house since I left the neighborhood. I got to see the sculptures that he finished to submit to the RISD NYC Biennial. One of which is incredibly beautiful, but he said he'd have to sell for about $2600. Probably still less than it's worth, but certainly out of my price range.

Then he got a call from Ben.F, one of two people I know who's working at a pizza place in (or near) Burlington, who's in town, and was drinking at a bar on Houston. So we headed in Manhattan as the temperatures continued to plummet, and hung out in an incredibly noisy bar for a few hours.