last night i actually changed the clocks at 2 a.m., and so got to live that government-mandated hour of time travel they made that pete & pete episode about. midnight-morning darkness of early november, because the year's end is the start of something, 'the holidays.' they're already setting up christmas displays and snow is discussed. aside from the chill of the house at night, darkness inside is unseasonal, unaffiliated. tell me what time of year it is if i refuse to contextualise each moment. it was two and then it was one, because we can do that.

emmie and kate stayed over halloween night after their 'carousing' downtown. when i stepped out on the street to find them after emmie called and said they were on their way, i stood on a forlorn, empty street with the dry leaves and the wind. this meant something to me, whatever it was, but i doubt i got it across to anyone else that night. maybe it would have made sense if i could have. i look through the address book on my cell phone and see almost no one to whom i could make a welcome call. that comes on slowly, doesn't it?

i had what sarah vowell would call a 'conversational mount st. helens' evening because i haven't been with a group in so long. it's indulgent, and i needed it. it's nice to think that it's possible to overcome distances and maintain friendships, which is the thought i have every time i see kelly and that i'll have now about kate, who will hopefully come back to see emmie and continue to care enough to invite me to explain myself when i bring up something in passing that she hasn't heard of before.

kelly herself pulled a deus ex machina this evening and drove up from bridgewater. she came here with emmie and made today okay.