Abundance

Wide awake in the city that never sleeps ... this was one of those days that captured the magic of New York. After working (from home) I went to writer's group, during which, among other things, we critiqued Cheech's piece ... in it he describes eloquently and accurately the love we feel for our hometown, the addictiveness that keeps us coming back for more. I've lived and loved elsewhere but this is home. It was a day of creative pursuits -- after group we went to the screening of a very well-made pilot, "Project Ghostlight", which is right up my creepy alley ... a reality show about haunted theaters. When that was over we rushed across town to a play by one of my new favorite theater companies, The Debate Society. Fifty minutes of madcap hilarity. From there we ambled westward again in search of dinner with no destination in mind -- wound up on a whim at Dos Caminos on Houston. By the time we got there I was low-blood-sugar-cranky and starving and looking forward to a margarita. I can be cranky around Cheech -- he's one of my bests and "gets" me more than many do. We're waiting for our table when in walks someone I've known since freshman year in college but hadn't seen for fifteen years. My photographic memory for faces and bizarre ability to recall decades-old snippets of conversation prevailed -- we had a lovely reunion and my moodiness dissipated. Old College Friend's wife said that he, too, had been hungry and cranky before walking in -- so a moment of Manhattan-style serendipity served us both well. Cheech and I walked home (he was kind enough to take the subway from my street) through the West Village, my old neighborhood (four different apartments there before I moved to this one). At the corner of Greenwich and Charles he said "Cheech's old block" (I'm Cheech too) ... which I misheard as "Cheech is full of guac" ... also somewhat true. My final outing of the evening was a walk with Lou, whom I'm simply in love with these days, fine fuzzy fellow that he is.

And now, hours later, I'm unable to sleep. Insomnia does not stress me out as it once did ... it's not my favorite way to spend the wee small hours, nor is it as traumatizing as it might sound. Neil paid me a huge compliment today: "You're so productive these days!" Music to my tone-deaf ears. Maybe "tone-deaf" is too strong ... sometimes I can flawlessly carry a tune, other times not in the slightest. For some reason I find the song "Happy Birthday" especially difficult to sing, and so I've grown accustomed to energetically mouthing it at group events. Birthday parties, that is, when others are singing.

So much so much so much more to write but my synapses aren't firing correctly at this late-early hour. Later today we drive to Pennsylvania, where Neil plays a festival and we swim in a lake. Not at the same time. That wouldn't work.

I take this opportunity to say thank you thank you thank you for stopping by every now and then and reading my words (and looking at my photos) ... it takes me by surprise, now, when people mention something I've written. And it means the world to me. Because you are some of my very favorite people in this world, who have come into my life from a variety of places -- childhood friends (and their lovely wives -- hi Sandy!), former coworkers (and excellent bosses, LL), friends from neighborhood taverns -- the shy ones and all-- old classmates, my mom and my sister -- two incredible women, my west coast friends, and of course, my BB, who will return from Hong Kong for the summer and whom I can not WAIT to see. I am blessed with abundance and have you all to thank.

And now I await Morpheus as daylight ascends.