Break on through to the other side...

Two anti-symptoms:

1. I called Meera. On the phone.

2. I picked up the phone when she called me back. Without screening. I swear to God.

Remember when I said that I knew all the gray anxiety would be over soon? I knew that the pervasive quiet and dullness of my life would have to swing away from me sooner or later. It has happened now.

That is not to say I'm cured. I'm not, I'm a mess. I'm a much busier mess, surrounded by people, noise and expectations. Hanging out with Sierra is definitely a good thing, however, because I find myself giggling through the hours, if not belly-laughing outright. I've met a lot of kids I've liked over the last few years. Sierra's made the top ten, even if her family is a tad suspect (not to mention the 20 yr old roommate, the roommate's friend who assured me she may be watching Sierra on Thursdays, the boyfriend, the boyfriend's daughter).

And I have a feeling my time with Lil Pea will be happy, too. She is one sweet baby. I spent this morning talking with the Baby Mama over scalding darjeeling flavored with honey. She clearly wants to be more comfortable with me, so we chatted about our holidays, traveling, what "Upstate NY" means, whether I can really work for a Yankees-supporting household... Har har, joke joke. Then she showed me what it means to keep the kitchen kosher. This is somewhat new territory for me, so I took copious notes. The threatening words, "we really can't have anything made in a non-kosher kitchen," hovered over me for a while as I wondered how I'll afford to eat stuff if I can't make it at home.

And then Baby Mama went into the office after handing over Lil Pea, newly be-striped in an outfit I picked out (what can I say, I love stripes!), and I spent about twenty minutes playing with her on the floor. She's three months old, remember, and so she's only now growing out of her newborn clothes and making purposeful eye contact. Nevertheless, she charmed her audience with cooing, gurgling, and wide-eyed cuteness. Yes, we got on famously.

Putting on my not-really-a-coat, I told Mama I would call her later in the week, and she handed me...

CASH!

Beeeyoootiful cash. Sigh. I haven't seen any of that precious stuff since the day after I got back from El Victoir! $22, man! I can do my laundry now!

Or tomorrow morning, rather.

Another thing that makes me happy today: Brigid, back in the states after doing hard time in a Chilean prison (she says she was teaching english to children - lame-ass lie, if you ask me), is coming to visit tomorrow! WHOOHOO! We're gonna eat us some Indian food, yes we are. And we'll laugh at ourselves and others. Should be good times. Just like the vermin-infested days on 56 Queensberry St, but without the bums pissing on our "garden-level" windows.

Holy hyphen abuse! Sorry bout that.