10.21.01 - 7:49 p.m.

"I'm like a bunch of guys, a bunch of college guys got together and said, 'Let's make a dude, let's make a crazy dude, what are we gonna make?' And they made me."
--Chris Kirkpatrick, the 30-year-old member of *NSync

Not really in the mood to write, but I'm here with an hour and a half to kill before Alias, so here goes. It was a good weekend, not a perfect one, but good nonetheless. Kerry and I did some roommate bonding (ha! as if we needed any more) yesterday by shopping at Tar-zhay and getting impromptu eyebrow waxes, then making kickass soy tacos for din. Her coworker and current crush Roosevelt was having a birthday party at some SoHo club so I accompanied her there, but it was more club than bar and completely packed with beautiful people, loud with (admittedly not too bad) music blaring and I didn't feel like myself. I missed my baby and wanted to run home and call him, I didn't want to deal with the attitude in the place. I'm going soft in my old age - give me a nice Irish pub or neighborhood bar where I can kick back and talk with friends. If I want to have a dance party, I'll let you know.

But this morning I woke up around noon and we set up the coffee maker for the new yummy Starbucks coffee and Kerry oh so generously made crepes. Ah, bliss to have a roommate with crepe-making skillz. Then we went to our little part of Liberty State Park across the street, where I read last week's New York Times Magazine and the special Sept. 11 edition of Vanity Fair as I gazed across the river to Lower Manhattan a heartbeat away. Ground Zero is obvious and people kept walking up to the water's edge to point and stare. All the buildings with names I never knew and facades I didn't recognize until a month ago - World Financial Center, One Liberty Plaza - are covered with red material for protection and practically on my doorstep. The Statue of Liberty seems close enough to touch some days. What kind of fate is this that I end up living here, so close, so soon?

We lay there until the late afternoon, when the cool breeze overpowered the warm sun and it became imperative that we go back inside for more tacos. And now I'm here, still missing my boy but feeling better about my life than I have for weeks. It's more of a settled ambivalence than an outright depression, which is good, and maybe it's what I need, the right mindset to actually put a paycheck in my hands.