2002-11-12 3:10 p.m.
out in R field

The microcosm and I are back on the bus, playwriting-wise. It took some doing, as I was seriously derailed by women and my own inertia. Call it chocolate-chip-cookie burnout, call it riding myself too hard for something with no real deadline, call it...finding time to relax.

Brunch at Old Devil Moon, kicking leaves around in one of the community gardens, and laughs with fresh faces recharged my batteries a bit, but it really took talking with R. She and I hadn't talked in a long while, not since I was last in Miami (and certainly not since D and her broke up), and I forgot how good it felt to have her in my life. She's a warm, wonderful person, and it sounds like she and D will be able to make living together as roommates work again, even after all they've been through.

I miss her. I didn't realize it until last night.

We talked about cooking, the holidays, my apartment and life since the house in Park Slope...and it all led to a little confession, which I'm sure D has heard before, and S knows in her own way, but I doubt R had heard: I really miss the house. It was a huge shock to be suddenly unplugged from the microcosm, the support system, having friendly voices around whenever you came home, shoulders to cry on, fellow jerkies to talk shit with, people to cook for. My love for living with D came and went based on our moods, but I never got sick of R, her fresh-faced enthusiasm for so much, her hilarious goofball moments after drinks, and the same thing that drew me to S: a good heart.

I was worried that her problems with D would make it awkward for me to still be friends with her. I'm glad I had nothing to worry about.