1.3.08

as of december 19th, this journal has been around for 9 years.

a few days before that anniversary i drove down to portsmouth to meet eric for coffee and christmas browsing. i got there early, finding the parking garage on the first try and walking out to what seemed like the edge of the downtown district. i found a bead shop filled with middle-aged women finishing up a sunday-afternoon beading class.

eric looked reassuringly like eric, crossing the street to meet me in the main square. work jacket and layers and things that look warm. shorter hair, same person. woodcuts, dark beer, salt piles, and comfortable times. it was a good piece of early winter.

days later, emily, alexandra, and i descended from the hill early on a saturday morning to scour the rogue's gallery sample sale where i found, among other things, a shirt for jcn. it was the first bitterly cold day of the season. the sidewalks were matte grey with ice and dried salt. after standing in the well-remembered checkout line and emerging onto the hard street with triumphant piles of shirts, we went to the diner on oak street that i always associate with cassidy. harley davidson people working two feet in front of us, making pancakes and hash behind the counter.

shortly thereafter i got the flu and sat in various chairs for three weeks. now, i'm battling the cough of doom and trying not to get panicked when i can't sleep at night.

reorganizing the jewelry on top of my dresser has helped immensely.