In my dreams I am in love.
In my dreams -- when i am asleep, usually in the early hours of the morning -- i find myself with someone else who loves me and i love tragically. It's a phenominal feeling, that exhilaration, that breathless wonder when you approach someone who you adore with every fiber of your body and soul. It's the love that never lasts. It's the love that comes with the beginning and goes with the dirty laundry, the snoring and bills, yet comes again in a car, driving home after a busy day at work. It's the love that is like snow: never repeated twice and easy to lose. It's the love that is "like" or lust.
I'm in no way unhappy. I'm not settling for anything that is less than I deserve -- hell, I'm not settling at all. But it's fun to remember more completely that which only comes now in smaller doses, and is less emotionally exhausting.

Clarification:
For the time being i am still at wolfe street. Any changes in that will be explained and informed upon deecision. Wish me luck for an interesting call with my landlady later today.

more posting as soon as i have a free moment. but now: the shower!

Moved. Again.
So, his family (read: the family that i have been shamelessly leeching off of for a couple of months now) has moved to this supremely adorable ancient limestone house with wooden floors and creaky doors...and wallpaper that came from Paris in the early 1900's. I'm not so much a fan of the wallpaper, as it is falling off, but the terms of the lease are that nobody is to TOUCH THE FREAKING WALLPAPER on PAIN OF DEATH. It would be understandable had the owners any intention of moving in here ever again, but they don't, as there is a suburb in the vincinity (but not TOO close), and they hate people. So. Here is a house with spider-filled teacups and window seats in every room. It's like a cob-webby dream house for me.

It's hella hot in here right now, as we are sans airconditioning, and the breeze has died down. arrg.

The moving experience was a generally shitty one. Most moving days are, as it's full of sadness and emptiness and some sense of loss. I always hate being in an empty home: I feel like it's been abandoned in the few days that it will stand empty -- that it was good to its family and now its family has callously left it. Jake sees promise in an empty house. I see abandoned memories.
The last night in the old house, we all sat around a table getting tipsy off of red wine and talking about the days that had made the house home. It's amazing.
But. At the same time, afterwards jake and i were sitting -- he was holding me and i thought about how everything would change but he would (God willing) always be sitting right there, with me.
Today I got a fabulously apropriate birthday gift from kora, with an equally apropriate letter. And i, for one, am thankful for the people in my life who count for something. So. In the hectic days of moving, thanks for being my balance. You know who you are.