one of the housemates moved to nyc yesterday. i gave her a big hug, put my sunglasses on real quick so she wouldn't see my tears, and now I'm avoiding the empty front room. I'm ambivalent about this summer, given that it's likely to entail a lot of work and no partners-in-crime. My housemate is irreplaceable as a friend. But there are always new partners-in-crime to be found, as there is always wine to be drunk, porch stoops to sit on, bicycles to be ridden through warm evenings.

*

BT was here for the weekend, a short visit, but also long and intense and exhausting, in the way that visits are when you're determined to make every moment count. Last night we went to a friend's place for dinner. We took the ferry across the Mi*sissippi at sunset... holy, it is high and fast. On the other side, there is already flooding. The park, with its carefully painted fences and theatre spots, is gone. I'm unaccountably unable to watch the news for updates on whether or not I should be packing. I assume the loss of 25 000 homes in non-economic centres will save us; the alternative is unthinkable at this point, as i'm sure it was to all the people who now have drowned homes along the spillway.

Dinner was poignant. My friend bought a foreclosed house that changed hands at least 4 times since K*trina. I'm sure the house was solidly middle-class at some point... a pool with a slide (now filled with sludge), a little backyard cabana, garish rose wall borders in the kitchen. By the time my friend got it, there had been squatters. The place is totally wrecked. I hope the family that had it before K*trina is happily ensconced in Texas or wherever, and never ever comes back to see what happened to their home.

My friend is living out there at his new place. "Camping out" would be more accurate. We sat on makeshift stools amidst the dust and fibreglass and ate guacamole and chips and the quinoa salad i'd had the foresight to make and bring (we've been friends a long time and he is a sweet, sweet man, but absent-minded... never bodes well for dinner). But he has a fridge now, although no stove. Baby steps. The beer was cold.

But of course we didn't talk about the baby steps. Big dreams about bio-gas and ripping down walls, and turning the attic into a loft space, and adding solar power, and skylights. I thought, 'Gah, get the water running first!' which tells you almost everything you need to know about me. Amidst all the chaos he stopped to till and plant a huge garden, which i think gives you almost everything that you need to know about him. And summarizes everything that i love about him. Oh, and did I mention he is doing this while finishing his first year of medical school?

Still, i felt that he was overwhelmed by the enormity of the undertaking. He is very alone in his tasks. I promised him my labour this summer. But first, of course: I am off to Ethiopia for 3 weeks and then Canada for another 3. I am sure I'd be a great friend, given the chance.

8:01 a.m. - 2011-05-18