last nite eric explained dungeons and dragons to me, the rules as well as the appeal, during my second teaparty in a row. my teaparties hug midnight with both arms and usually involve digestive biscuits, or will anyway until i run out. yesterday's featured sliced green apple as well though granny smith, you can tell, prefers to be on her home soil.
i hadn't expected either teaparty, particularly not last nite's. earlier i went out to meet heather, cindy, will, and will's visiting ex-something; with the added company of two more we finished off the Finishing Touches and dropped in on student house, a cheapass crowded colorful bar near the round tower. bad music, yet again: fat t-shirted men with long hair screaming with electric guitars. really, two things on the Danes Cannot Seem to Do list, make music and take care of their garbage (more cigarette butts than i've seen in any one place, except possibly vassar.) recycling redeems them.

the dynamics of our little group, in contrast, were subtle and interesting, but with that echo of a 1986 garage band pounding behind us we couldn't stay. the others were bent on Rust, a killer club i had neither the pants nor the energy for; i bussed it home, showing a guy the way ("i don't care what anyone thinks of me; that's my talent") to/because a huge party had taken over the main hall. after bowing him in, i lingered for a bit and happened to see eric. nearly a week had gone by since we'd last hung out. this was perfect timing.
our favorite haunt closed, we ended up around my makeshift (there's that word again) kitchen table with reliable yogitea playing second string and talked and talked, our discourse punctuated by sapna's comings and goings, first with two people, then one, finally alone, at which point exhaustion hit all of us. i'd spent the afternoon wandering 'round the Louisiana with heather cindy and andrea in an intellectual crowd of closely-sheared bespectacled folk. a storm hit while we were safely inside and from the windows, awed, we watched gray mingle with gray as the sky met the sea. just as abrupty, before we left, it did.

despite all the snow when i ventured out this morning to buy bread for mel's host family, hosting me tonite for dinner, i heard birds singing encouragingly. a reminder that it's unlikely to stay winter forever.